Yule with the Wild God

Prologue

People said sketchy things happened in the forest at night, and they were right. But I was about as determined as a stripper needing to make rent.

Twigs snapped underneath my feet as I slowly padded my way over the roots of an old oak tree. The moon hung low in the sky, perfectly round like a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It was bright enough that I didn’t need to blow my cover with a dorky headlamp. Nonetheless, it was still a bit eerie to be trudging around in the woods all alone.

The early December air was icy in my lungs as I sucked in a deep breath to find some courage. I clutched the glass vial in my hand so tightly, the cork lid crumbled slightly against my thumb. The bottle was filled with herbs, three drops of my menstrual blood, and a strand of my light hair. It was a self-love and healing spell more than anything, but I wasn’t too proud to admit that it was a desperate plea to the universe.

I was profoundly lonely.

I just wanted someone to love me for once, to not hurt me. I knew in order for that to happen, I needed to pour into myself more.

Still, the level of betrayal I’d experienced in the past two months was unparalleled. In the aftermath, I walked around like a raw nerve—delicate, vulnerable. And I despised it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the vivid memories of scrambling to find my clothes while pure chaos had broken out all around me that horrid night.

“Focus. Gather your energy,” I whispered to the night.

I knew the dark stillness of winter was the perfect time to embark on some self-reflection and inner healing. And what better time to start than on a full moon?

The river wasn’t quite frozen over yet, its low burble making its presence known. I knelt before it, appreciatively turning my head to the moon, observing in complete awe how her light sparkled on the surface of the water. Cupping my free hand in the stream, I swept the icy liquid over myself, letting it cleanse me. In the far-off distance, the low hoot of an owl was my cue.

I pulled out a pinecone from my coat pocket. It was stocky and the same height as my palm. Along with it, I grabbed a red candle, a lighter, and three strips of paper that had my intentions written on each one. I folded them up and shoved them in between the scales of the pinecone, where they nestled perfectly. Pulling in more of my energy, I lit the red candle, staring at the flame long enough to enter a slight trance. Suspended in my magic, I drizzled the wax over the pinecone then lit it on fire, watching it turn to ash on a smooth river stone.

Raising the vial up enough to ensure moonbeams cast through it, I recited the spell.

Be it common or be it well,

Yank me from these depths of hell,

Maiden found and mother bound,

See to it my love is found.

As I will it, so mote it be.

I delighted in the knowing shiver coursing up my spine as I uncorked the bottle and sprinkled it into the river, letting the steady waters take my offering.

I knelt on the riverside as long as I could bear to have the chilly mud of the bank digging into my knees. Once my nose started to sniffle with cold, I bowed to the moon before surveying what stars were visible before ducking back into the forest and exiting on the other side, where my apartment was located near campus.

“That’ll have to do. Sometimes you just have to pour into your own cup,” I mumbled, reaching down to pluck the wet fabric off my knees.

As I made my way through the parking lot, my cell buzzed. I could tell by the beginning digits, it was a number that belonged to my university. I was expecting a call from Dr. Mary Whittam, the dean, so I swiped to answer.

“This is Shea.”

“You traitorous little whore!” my professor roared.

I froze for a second, stopping dead in my tracks underneath a light post that had a garland wrapped around it with red velvet bows.

He went on, “I can’t believe you went and told—”

“Jared, you did something wrong. I’m not in charge of you. You’re a very smart man who made a very dumb decision. Live with it.”

“You seduced me!”

I gritted my teeth as I gathered a breath. “I confided in you regarding a serious problem with another student and you took advantage of my vulnerability.”

“You went on and on about how you want to build a home with someone. What makes you think you deserve one after you wrecked mine?”

My chest tightened at his words. “I didn’t. You did that all yourself.”

“You kept coming to my office—"

I hung up then let myself into my dark apartment. My roommate was sequestered to her room, thank goodness, so I didn’t have to fake small talk. I took a long bath, but not even the steam could clear my mind. I replayed all the events on a loop in my head, wishing I would’ve done things differently.

Maybe he was right? Maybe I was to blame for all of this?

I should’ve asked more questions.

I could’ve been less needy.

Wanting to recenter myself after such a stressful phone call, I listened to a guided meditation. When I crawled into bed, the dreams started. Endless, faceless, nonsensical dreams of men covered in leaves, the taste of spiced cider on my lips, and a distinct crackle of a fireplace.