Chapter Four
Shea. Her name was Shea. How perfect.
She was enthralling.
All was going according to plan. While hanging around her cottage, I’d noticed Shea was a mumbler. She was constantly talking to herself. If she wasn’t doing that, she was singing. I’d regrettably noticed she was tone deaf, but that was fine. I wanted her all the same.
As she’d mumbled away, I’d caught on to the fact that she wanted holiday décor. So at first light, I’d gifted her with holly that had grown from my seed. Within hours, she had foraged it and placed it above her hearth. It was nothing short of an open invite into her home. Now, all I needed was an open invite into her body.
If things felt right and she willingly accepted my courtship, our relationship could be symbiotic. She’d get the best sex of her life, and I’d sustain my life force energy. That was what fed me—sex, worship, and remembrance.
As a forgotten god with diminished power, I couldn’t leave my forest. I was tethered to my forever tree, which was my last remaining source of power here on Earth.
As for the Otherworld, I could only visit when the portal opened on the equinoxes and solstices. Those days held immense power. But I couldn’t stay there. The only way I could ever leave this place was if I had a mate myself, someone who could sustain the sexual energy for me. I simply wasn’t created to hold my power alone.
I’d just have to make do with my circumstances—staying here, Earthside, tending to my forest.
Luckily, it had been easy to track her SUV while she’d carefully driven into town. Then I’d waited on the edge of the parking lot amongst the trees, only to look casual once she’d been bending over in her vehicle. Her soft ass up in the air, tempting me as she’d let out little straining noises.
I wanted her bent over with little straining noises coming out of her for different reasons.
I was sure she was overanalyzing every second of our exchange, but she shouldn’t. It had gone exactly how I’d wanted it. I’d gotten her name, seen she’d acquired mead, and had noticed her moontime had ended. The bite of blood now morphed into sweet-sweet, honeyed cunt.
I’d rifled through all the things humans had called me over the thousands of years I had existed and settled on one obscure enough, but easy for her mouth, when I’d introduced myself.
Dianus. The sound of her beautiful voice saying it ran circles in my mind.
Our first encounter had been quick so she wouldn’t get spooked. That meant the second one needed to be effective. Fascinated, I kept up with her as she meandered home, stopping at a shack humans called a “little library.” Apparently, it was where they exchanged books with one another. After that, she stopped at a farmstand, where she picked up a carton of eggs and a jar of jam. Her cheeks were pink with happiness as she examined each item, walking back to her car. I tracked her the whole way home and continued to watch her the rest of the night.
The light in her sleeping quarters went out, and minutes later, I heard soft moans and slippery noises. She was touching herself, which threw some energy my way. It was strong and pure. I fought the urge to press my ear against her cabin to hopefully hear what explicit things she was whimpering, but decided I wanted to experience those in person, with her underneath me. So I stayed at the edge of the forest, exhibiting immense self-control, if I did say so myself. If the length of time was any factor, it seemed the maiden had quite the stamina. I was pleased to know she was being thorough, hopefully playing with her tits, slowly caressing every curve and slick part of herself.
When her pleasure ceased, I walked backwards into the trees, needing to run off my attachment to her. I couldn’t become a fool just because there was a woman alone in my woods.
But it had been so, so long.
The next day, I went into planning mode on how to run into her again. I could make anything appear if I focused long enough. It was easier to mimic others, so I would watch men who worked in the forest, knowing they usually wore simple clothing and plastic hats that protected their fragile heads. Those in charge often carried clipboards. I was too vain to wear a hat, but I committed to the latter.
She was out foraging for pinecones before the snow hit, placing each one in a basket as she mumbled on and on about horny, selfish shitheads named Jared and Lance. After that, she meandered down the dirt road that led back to her cabin. I easily tracked her but realized I would be ambushing her from behind again. Committed to keeping her calm, I slipped into the forest and appeared farther ahead of her on the path, walking out of the woods with my clipboard.
She wore a dark green skirt with brown leather boots, a red coat covering her top half. Shea’s body shimmying along with the skirt with each step was my new favorite thing. As she approached, I fought ogling by scribbling on the clipboard with a pen, committed to playing the part.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing here?” she barked.
I turned, flashing her my best smile. “Shea! Good to see you again.”
It was high noon, the cloudy day dimming her features that were stunning just the same. Today, her blonde hair was wavy and half up. She donned earrings consisting of moss agate stones.
She looked up at me from where I towered over her. She was likely the average height of a female, if I had to guess.
“It was Dianus, right?” she said, testing out my name.
“Yes, that is correct.”
She pointed at me. “Are you stalking me?”
“Oh, no, I am here doing my job. I protect the forest. It is my calling.”
She adjusted the basket into the crook of her arm. “What do you mean?”
“I check on the trees and look out for the animals, big or small.” I joggled the clipboard before holding it down to my side.
“Like a game warden?”
Warden. I knew the term; it was an old word I didn’t hear often. “Yes, a warden.”
She tilted her head. “Oh, that’s really cool. Hey, come to think of it, I saw this super unique looking deer the last two mornings.”
“Really?” I faked intrigue, knowing it was me she’d seen. I could shapeshift into a deer, a man, or a man with antlers, which was my favorite. It was a nice in-between and made me feel wild but able.
“Yeah, listen, I’m sure this is absurd, but I could’ve sworn it was like a 20-pointer. Or more! It was massive. Mutant, no, that’s not the right word. It seemed virile, like the strongest and most majestic thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t want a hunter shooting it.” She took a gulp. “And if I’m being honest, I’m a little scared of it. If you could maybe just confirm it’s a regular deer and not a threat, I’d feel a lot better.”
This was it. My in, my reason to be around her. I had to seize the opportunity. Just standing near her already invigorated me. It was some cosmic joke that I helped create life but also needed life force energy myself.
“I would love to help you feel safer. May I ask where you spotted it?”
Her eyes searched my face. “Um, near my cabin.”
I hoped the brown clothes I’d picked today made me look like a warden. I needed to be convincing. I relaxed my body language, hoping to look detached. “I will have to take your word for it. I do not want to be in your space. You are a lady. I get that—”
“You’re not a serial killer, are you?”
It worked.
“Of course not. I do not mean to scare you.”
Something in my fervent promise put her at ease. Her eyes softened before flicking around my belt and pockets, I assumed checking for a gun. The only thing Americans loved more than a god that had forgotten them was a metal death stick they called a gun . Oh, and if it’s summer, add ice cream to that list.
Seeing I was unarmed, she threw some hair over her shoulder. “If you’d like to follow me back, I could maybe show you where I saw it?” She shifted her shoulders. “If it will help you with your job, that is.”
I chucked the clipboard into the trees as I nodded in agreement.
She pointed. “Don’t you . . . need that?”
“No, I will find it once more.” I cleared my throat. “The whole forest is my office, you see.”
She gave me a strange look before giggling. And oh my, it was such a dazzling laugh. I wanted to hear it again.
“May I ask what brings you here?” I asked as we walked farther down the path.
“I’m staying in my aunt and uncle’s cabin. I’m just here for winter break.”
“A break?”
“Yes, from school.”
Discomfort clawed through me. Was she a child and I just hadn’t realized? I was only interested in people who had lived through over twenty turns of winter. Full-fledged adults.
“You are a student?” I asked, unable to hide the tinge of confusion in my tone.
She looked up, beaming. “A university student.”
“Ah, what is your field of study?”
She giggled again. “You talk so formally. My degree will be in library science. I’d love to be a children’s librarian at an elementary school.”
“Children are precious, and books are very important.” Books had shaped history—even I knew that. Hell, humans cut down my forest for their paper. “So is that what you are doing in this cabin? Reading?”
She swung her basket side to side. “Yeah, I know it’s probably strange to mold an entire vacation around reading, but—”
“It is not,” I interjected. “If reading keeps you happy, that is all that matters. Are vacations not for happiness?”
“Well, when you put it like that, yeah.”
“What is your favorite book?” I asked.
“I couldn’t pick. I think people assume Austen or the Bront? sisters since I’m bookish, but honestly, I don’t think I’ve found my favorite book yet.”
“That is a very good answer, Shea.” I patted her shoulder.
“Really?”
“Yes, leave it open. Let the world meet you at your expectations. I like that.”
She bloomed at my praise, walking slightly closer to me, her steps now matching mine. “What about you? What’s your favorite book?”
“I think I might steal your answer and say I have not found it yet.”
She squeezed my bicep. “Great answer.”
Once we approached the spot, I faked interest while I heard her recount seeing the horned beast, which had been me, in the forest. Of course, she left out the juicy tidbits about me presenting my phallus. Nonetheless, it was fascinating watching her face scrunch and move as she recalled all the details, relaying them as best she could. She worried she’d imagined seeing a deer, but I assured her she hadn’t.
“I would be happy to track the animal, you know, confirm it is in the area. It will require me being close to your cabin often though . . .”
I left my request open-ended.
She positioned herself in front of me once more, no longer side-by-side staring at the glen. With her new stance, she jutted out her hip. I could see the slight curve of it beneath her coat. All I wanted was to place a hand on it, to hold her greedily.
“Feel free to come by to track the deer. That’s no problem.” There was a hollowness to her tone, disappointment blanching her words.
I lowered my chin and voice. “Would I be welcomed to come by for other reasons?”
She swept some hair off her shoulder. “Yes,” she said demurely, flicking a glance to the pinecones in her basket. “I was going to decorate the cabin for Yule. I don’t have a ladder, and you’re quite tall. Might I get some help hanging things?”
“Yule?”
“Yes.”
“Not Christmas?”
She shook her head, her wavy blonde hair swishing behind her shoulders. “My aunt raised me to celebrate Yule and the winter solstice, instead of Christmas. I like to celebrate the cycles of the seasons. It feels better to me.”
So, she did walk the old path.
“That is fascinating. I would be happy to help.”
Shea nervously yammered on while leading me to her home. She hastily unlocked the door and went inside, turning to watch me warily. At the threshold of the dwelling, there was a long line of black powder. I stepped over it, careful not to ruin it. I knew it was part of her wards, but since I meant her no harm, it wasn’t an obstacle for me. Her eyes latched to the side of my arm as I ducked down and walked in. Looking back, I noticed a rusty nail sticking out of the doorframe. Another one of her defenses.
Turning back to her, I disarmed her more with a neutral look. “Smells good in here.”
She let out a nervous laugh. “I was baking.”
The inside of the cabin smelled divine and just as I’d imagined—feminine sweetness and earthy herbal concoctions mixed with bread. Humans loved bread. That hadn’t changed. As a god, I didn’t require food, but I could eat. It was just kind of pointless, like rain on a river. The only thing that really fed me was devotion and sexual energy, the potent buzz of procreation.
We tied the pinecones on garlands with some citrus slices she already had prepared. I roped them around the beams of the cabin, across her mantle right next to my holly, and even tacked some up in the window over the kitchen sink for her.
I caught her staring at my body, which felt nice. Even silent admiration fed me. And I couldn’t get over how attractive she was. Her mind was just as interesting.
The whole time, Shea told me all about a cozy mystery book she’d finished reading yesterday and growing up with an older brother. He was into sports. Her, not so much. When she’d ask me questions about my upbringing, I tried to keep it as accurate as possible. I told her I’d spent my youth in Europe. When she asked what had brought me here, I told her it was the people in my village who’d inspired me to come to America.
That part wasn’t completely wrong. The villagers were the ones who’d snuck saplings of my forever tree on the ship. It was the villagers who’d wanted to worship me on the new land they’d call home. I had provided bounty before, so bringing me with them had been insurance. It had also been the villagers who’d planted me deep in the forest, where I wouldn’t be disturbed, only to die off or move on.
I’d been bound, forevermore shackled to this land as long as the tree stood. I couldn’t alter fate or possess people, but I could shift my appearance, control and heal animals, and nurture plants to grow. My presence could ensure a mating frenzy, making me an honored guest at any orgy. I could make a limp man rod hard, and women could pour milk on my roots to ensure pregnancy. Creation, germination, fornication—those were my specialties. Beyond that, my reach was limited. Something I was keenly aware of and that made life that much lonelier.
If people didn’t care about the forest or fucking, they didn’t care about me.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Twenty-nine.” That was the age I’d decided to present with this guise. “And you?”
“Twenty-four. So as a warden, do you live up here all the time? Do you have a family of your own?”
“I live in the woods full-time. I do not have a spouse or lover, if that is what you are asking.”
She fiddled with the red oven mitts resting on the counter, unable to look up.
“And I do not have any children or previous spouses, if that is also what you are asking.” I would consider my devotees children, but I hadn’t had any for centuries, so this was truth. “What about you, Shea?”
“Uncommitted.” Her eyes lifted to mine. “In every way.” She lightly tossed the oven mitts on the counter.
I stared at her, unsure what she was thinking.
The silence was long and steady. She finally rounded the counter, getting closer to me. “So you just work out here all alone? Doesn’t that get lonely?”
“Yes, very.”
“Why do you do it?”
“I have no other choice. It is my calling. I cannot leave.”
She bobbed her head. “I get it. My dad really wanted me to be a dentist, like him, but I hate teeth. They creep me out.”
“I would have to agree with you on that.” I took a chance and swept some hair off her shoulder, loving how soft her neck was against my fingertips.
Her eyes unfocused for a second upon contact. Which further fueled my boldness to step even closer to her.
She gathered herself and went on. “He was pissed when I decided to go to school to be a librarian. I get it, you need a master’s degree to make a less than stellar salary, but it’s not about the money for me. I just love being around children. I’m worried though. Libraries are slowly dying off, even in schools.”
“And you need to work in a library to bring books to children? That is your calling?”
“Exactly. I thought about being a teacher, but I hate public speaking, even if it’s in front of kids. Hence the desire to be around mostly books. They don’t talk back.” One side of her mouth lifted. “As a librarian, I would get to work with the kids on a one-on-one basis. It’s way more intimate and meaningful. Plus, when I was in elementary school, none of the kids would play with me because I was chubby.” She looked down at the counter to straighten a basket of fruit. “I remember I had this super nice librarian, and her name was Miss Liberty. She let me eat lunch in the library as long as I washed my sticky hands before I touched any of the books.” She let out a bashful laugh and looked back up at me with a melancholy tinge to her mahogany eyes.
The idea of Shea eating alone as a child was a sad thought for me. I’d be the first to admit I often didn’t fully grasp all of the human intricacies, but for little children to hold prejudice against another showed deep flaws in society.
I tucked some hair behind one of her small ears. “I am glad you had a kind adult to look after you.”
She gave me a quick, timid smile. “Me too. And I want to provide that refuge for another kid. I just know someone like me is out there, needing a safe space.”
Unable to help myself any longer, I grabbed another tendril of hair that was resting high up on her chest, letting it stream through my fingers. “But you are here now.”
“Yes, for now.”
“And I am here with you.”
I continued to touch her hair. She licked her lips while searching my face. “Listen, I really did come here to be mostly alone, but maybe we could spend the holidays together?”
“I would like that.”
I could tell she enjoyed my testing, little touches. I could feel her skin heat, her heart race. I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I had to leave her wanting more.
Dropping her silky strand, I took a step back. “I should get back to work.”
“Oh, right.” She winced. “I’m sorry. I probably hogged your lunch break or something.”
“It was time well spent.”
“If you want a warm meal after your shift, you’re welcome to join me for dinner.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder, referencing the huge pot on the stove. “It’s just stew, but I’ll be eating it for days. I made so much. You’d honestly be helping me out.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes.”
“I would like that.” I picked up her hand and kissed the back of it as she held her breath. “I will see you later.”
“Later.”
As I walked to the cabin door, I could see her in the reflection of the windowpane. Her eyes were set on my retreating back with her hand still outstretched from where I’d kissed it.
My hunt was on.