Page 80 of Song of the Dark Wood

Rowan couldn’t stand the way he pulled her close and then tossed her away with such ease. He had kissed her, knowing the risk he was taking. It was all a game to him—one where he knew the rules, and she was left blind to them.

“I’ll go back now. Why wait until morning?” she said tightly.

“Rowan—” Conor reached for her, but she ducked his arm, using the evasion technique he’d taught her the day before. Hespun, looking both impressed and frustrated. “At least wait until first light.”

Rowan laughed cruelly as she turned and left the room. “Isn’t it a little late to pretend you care if I’m in the dark?” She lobbed the words like a flaming arrow, and she knew they struck true when he flinched.

Charlie was already waiting for her in the foyer with her red cloak in his hand.

“I heard you’re leaving,” he said. It was disconcerting how the reaper always had a sense of precisely what was going on, but it seemed his magic was connected to Conor’s.

Rowan pulled on her boots. She sighed, trying to push away the angry tears that threatened. “Yes, well, I just finished with the gardening, and I should get back before anyone gets worried,” she said tightly as she grabbed her cloak and began to fasten it.

“Yes, it looks like you were doing quite a bit of gardening,” Charlie teased.

She followed his gaze to the glittering pollen handprints on her pale blue dress, including several perfectly preserved handprints over her breasts. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“He got a little close, and now he’s trying to shove you away,” Charlie sighed, rolling his eyes. “Whether he wants to admit it or not, he needs you.”

“He’s just like everyone else. He only needs me for what I can do for him. He only likes me because I smell like dessert,” she huffed.

“I don’t think that’s the only reason.” Charlie cocked an eyebrow, and Rowan flushed and looked away. “Especially now that you’ve given him a taste. I think you’re good for him, lass.”

Rowan choked on a startled laugh. “He wants to eat my soul.”

“Actually, him sending you away is a distinct sign that’s exactly what hedoesn’twant to do. This would all be much easier if he did,” Charlie pointed out.

Rowan could not think clearly about any of it. She needed space to clear her head.

“I’ll see you next week,” she said, pushing out the heavy front door of the keep.

She was almost down the stairs that led to the forest trail when Conor’s voice rang out behind her.

“Rowan, wait!”

She paused and turned as he closed the distance between them. A deep, desperate part of her hoped he wanted to apologize, but it was clear from the cold look in his eyes that he didn’t.

“I just wanted to remind you that I’ll expect to still see you in white next week,” Conor said.

Rage burned through Rowan like a fever. For a moment, she seriously considered stabbing him right then and there, and the thought filled her with dark satisfaction. But stabbing him now wouldn’t solve her problems; it would only piss him off.

She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m hardly untouched. What we did doesn’t allow me to wear red?”

“No, lass. You’re still intact, and you’ll stay that way. Someday your future husband will probably be happy with that. The men of Ballybrine are small and archaic that way,” Conor said, smiling at her as if waiting for a challenge.

“And you aren’t?” she argued. “I seem to remember you asking with some intensity whether I had saved myself for you.”

His smile only grew. “Well, now that I’ve tasted you for myself, I know it’s true. As I explained then, it makes the magic more potent. Imagine the difference between eating a berry before its prime and one that’s plump and ripe.”

Rowan tore out of Wolf’s Keep without looking back. She walked down the trail, and it took her a surprisingly long time to realize that she’d forgotten a lantern. The path was so dark it sent a chill through her. She thought about turning back, but she didn’t want to see Conor again, so she pressed on.

She wished hopelessly for Orla. She had no idea what to do, and she just wanted someone more experienced to give her the answers. She wanted the comfort of a big sister or a mother to tell her that she was okay. She’d felt like she and Conor shared something intimate and special, but he had so quickly shut off any sense of feeling afterward. Maybe that wasn’t the act. Perhaps the act was the part where he pretended to actually care for her at all. Perhaps it was all a game to trick her into giving him what he wanted. The way he’d switched off any feeling was disconcerting.

She stopped suddenly. He could be lulling her into a false sense of safety until she let her guard down. She looked back over her shoulder, but she’d gone far enough that she couldn’t see the lanterns of Wolf’s Keep any longer. She turned and continued down the moonlit trail.

The branches above cast eerie shadows on the forest floor. The glimpses of silvery moonlight seemed few and far between. Rowan looked up at the trees but saw no sign of the blight.

She spun wildly. All of the tree trunks had healed to their usual brown. Each branch held new growth and large plumes of leaves. She laughed nervously, bringing her hand to her mouth. Her lips were still tender from Conor’s rough kisses.

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