Page 13 of In Love With the Leshy

“I’m sorry I frightened you.” I watch unblinking as he shrinks back to size and extends a hand to me. “It wasn’t my intention.”

Ignoring his offer of help, I push myself to my feet and dust the dirt off. I look around for some way to escape. I don’t see an opening for me to run. It’s too dark, but I need to get away from him, along with all the other things in this terrifying place.

“Why are you surprised? You knew of my existence, didn’t you?”

“You’re supposed to be some sort of lumberjack taking care of the trees, not a monster that can read minds and change his shape and size.”

“I can do a lot more than that, and if I were a monster, you would be dead. I’m a protector of the forest and everything in it. Lumberjacks cut down trees and take away the homes of the animals that live in and around them. They are criminals that destroy forests.”

“This is insane!” I hug my arms around my chest. “I just want to get the hell out of here!”

“Perhaps you prefer me as a bear?” There’s a soft, conciliatory tone to his voice. “You didn’t seem to mind, and if it’s more familiar to you, I can shift—”

“No!” I shout, extending my arms so he understands I don’t want him to take a step closer. “Don’t . . . Don’t turn into a bear. Don’t turn into anything.” Am I really saying this? “Just stay away from me!”

He looks sad and defeated. His eyes dull. The shimmer is completely gone, and his shoulders sag. For something so large and intimidating, there’s nothing scary about him at the moment.

“Please, stay until morning. You shouldn’t walk on that ankle. I’ll look after and protect you while you heal. When you’re ready to leave, I’ll see you to the edge of the forest. And then I’ll be gone from your life. Forever.”

Forever. That last word stings. It’s what I want. What I should want. I don’t answer. My mouth is too dry to speak.

I glance into the never-ending inkiness of night. It’s at least ten degrees colder than it was at midday, and I’m not dressed appropriately to wander at night. Among the chirps and cries carrying on the breeze, a distant howl breaks through the cacophony of sound. I don’t know what it is, and have no doubt the way this day is going, if I ask, he’ll tell me it’s a werewolf. I bite my lip and reconsider his offer to stay here till morning.

He hasn’t hurt me. He didn’t need to carry me off to kill or maim me. He could’ve done that where he first found me. And if there’s even a hint of truth that this man can turn himself into a bear, my best chance against him is appeasement.

“I’ll stay. As long as you keep your distance.”

“Once I get you settled, I’ll come out here and keep watch through the night.”

“Okay.”

He takes a few steps, then turns to check on me. I hobble the short distance to him, wishing he hadn’t told me all this before we got to our destination. Moving was much easier when he carried me, but now that I know what he really is, I don’t want to be in his arms ever again.

I stop when I reach him, waiting for direction. I want him to speak or move. Fear clouds my judgment and urges me to latch on to his arm for support and protection. But I don’t allow myself to.

“I thought you were taking me home.”

“This is home.”

It’s so dark with the trees blocking out the moon and most of the stars, I don’t realize until he points it out—we’re standing in front of the entrance to a cave. I tremble. My teeth chatter. I don’t want to go in there. It makes the blackness of the forest look like a sunlit day.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

Neither of us moves for what feels like hours. Finally, he grunts and walks through the cavernous opening. I hesitate, holding my ground and rethinking this arrangement. I close my eyes, saying a silent prayer, before looking inside once again. The glow of a dim light seeps out from the interior to the entrance of the tunnel.

My feet move on their own volition, and my mouth opens at the sight of the warm, cozy room. Tea lights are strung around the perimeter of the open space. Warm rugs lie on the hard dirt floor. Drawings with colorful luminescent ink are etched into the walls. A large rock with a long flat slab on top serves as a table, a boulder takes the place of a chair. They sit in one corner of the room while in the space opposite lies a mattress made of green leaves and feathers wrapped and held together with vines. I limp around, taking it all in.

This doesn’t look like a cave at all, dark and dingy with moss everywhere. No, this interior makes me feel like we’re inside a tiny cottage. It’s comfortable and inviting.

“Are you hungry? I have fresh jam and bread.” My stomach growls with the mention of food. I don’t remember the last time I ate. I rushed out of my apartment so fast this morning, there was no time.

I nod. “That would be great, thank you.”

He smirks. “You’re not afraid I’m going to poison you?” I think he’s joking. I hope he’s joking. Instead of answering, I shoot him a dirty look. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Seriously, come sit. You need to get off that ankle,” he says, standing next to the table.

He doesn’t move until I hobble over safely and take a seat.

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