Page 13 of Fated Guardian

My mouth drops open, and my first instinct is to shift so that I can jump forward and keep Coral from being trampled by… trees. Remembering, however, that plants definitely don’t seem to hurt her in general, and that they attempt to comfort her when she’s feeling sad, I decide not to turn into a wolf and drag her by her skimpy spider-lace overalls away from the trees in front of us.

But I step closer to her so that I can grab her. Just in case.

I’m not going crazy. The trees are, in fact, moving. They’re rearranging, the entire massive gave that flows for probably a mile down the hillside, until they stretch for at least three times that in either direction. Right along the boundary that marks the edge of Oakwood pack territory.

The whole process takes forever. It’s not just an easily done thing. Literally, I’m watching the trees reshuffle themselves and move, one tree at a time, into a line. Hours go by.

I’m actually about to fall asleep on my feet when I finally hear the sound of…

Silence.

My eyes snap open, and I look around.

“Shit,” I say out loud. “Shit, that’s amazing.”

Coral doesn’t respond.

I blink. Then, I move.

She’s lying on the ground. Her fingers are still dug into the dirt, but she’s not actively doing anything, I don’t think, because they’re kind of arched up. Almost like they’re in pain. More importantly, though, her face looks awful. Her skin is a pale, deathly looking color, and the spaces under her eyes look dark and hollow.

Normally, she looks petite and perfect. Like a butterfly. Right now, she looks like she’s about to fall apart.

Gently, I pull her up into my arms. She’s so small. When she tucks herself into my shoulder, she takes a huge, deep breath. When she settles, her face shifts. The drawn tension in it fades—into a small, beautiful smile.

Without any other plans,I take her back to her cottage.

I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. She’s passed out, and she isn’t moving in the direction of waking anytime soon.

When we get to the cottage door, in fact, she’s snoring. Literally.

It’s probably the most adorable noise that I’ve heard in my entire life, but she’s still… snoring. Clearly, she needs the rest.

I hesitate on the cottage doorstep. I can’t just go into her house. That feels invasive.

I mean, I guess I’m carrying her and everything, which is potentially more invasive, and I did see her, like… rearrange alarge amount of foliage to create some kind of a boundary. But I’m not really sure if that’s invasive or not.

Without a clear plan on what to do, I just stand. At her door. Until finally, she stirs.

Coral blinks, looking up at me. “What time is it?”

“Not really sure. When you moved the trees around, it took a couple of hours, and then we walked back, and now I think the sun might be pretty close to going down, so… maybe like five or six?”

“Wow. Wait. Nolan?”

“Yes,” I say. I give her a small reassuring smile as well, just in case she doesn’t remember.

“What happened?”

“Well, you moved all the trees?—”

“Oh, the ward. Right.” She nods like that makes total sense.

“Yeah. The ward. You made a ward, and then you passed out.”

She sighs. “Oh. Well. That’s new.”

“New?”

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