Page 8 of Deliverance

“Mayor Marshal has been good to you, and he knows you. He would not put you in a situation where he thought you would not cope,” she reassures me, her hands moving back up as she continues with weaving flowers into my hair. “Besides, Robert will be beside you the whole time.”

I say nothing, and I try to keep my expression neutral, but I must not manage it as my mother’s hands still in my hair. Hersmile slips, and her too wise eyes scan my reflection. “Oh dear, has something happened between you?”

The words are on the tip of my tongue as I debate telling her. She will be surprised by the mayor’s son’s impulsiveness, but I am sure she would also be happy that he likes me enough that he would ask me to run away with him. I can already see the cogs in her mind spinning, so desperate for me to be seen as normal. If I were on the arm of the mayor’s son, it would make all of our lives easier. I bite my tongue, not wanting to disappoint her.

“Nothing that cannot be fixed,” I reply, and this time the small smile on my lips is genuine.

“Well, that is good to hear. Perhaps we might have something to celebrate soon.” She has a flush in her cheeks and a far off look. “Marrying the mayor’s son would be a good match—”

I jump up and turn around to face her in outrage. She often gets carried away, and I should have known this would be another thing for her to get excited over. Robert and I have never discussed marriage. I need to calm her down before she convinces herself that this is going to happen. “Mother—”

She rolls her eyes and points towards the chair I just vacated. “Okay, okay, sit back down and let me finish your flower crown. You need to leave soon.”

I do as she says, watching her hands through the mirror as she weaves the beautiful flowers into my hair, creating a halo of blooms around my head. They are so pretty, and it’s a hair style I used to love as a child. The mayor specifically requested I wear the flowers in my hair, and while I find it a little odd, there must be a rational reason for it.

After quickly finishing up, my mother shoos me from the house with an order to hurry so I will not be late. Grabbing my white lace shawl, I hurry from the front door of the cottage, draping it over my shoulders. Turning to wave, I let out a longbreath when I see my mother’s no longer there, having already retreated back into the house.

Alone, I make the short walk to the village. The sun shines down on me, and although I am nervous about what will be expected of me today, it really is a lovely day. The warmth lifts my mood, and I admire the wildflowers at the side of the road as I walk. With the forest to my right, I do not worry about the fae and other creatures hiding in its shadowy depths.

There are many in the village who will not come out to our cottage because of its proximity to the forest, or the pinch point in the road ahead. The forest loops around my family’s land and almost touches itself about halfway down the road. It is not for long, only fifty paces or so before it opens up on the left side and falls back, fields of wildflowers claiming the land.

I am about fifteen paces into the darkened path of the road when I feel it—someone, or something, is watching me. The prey instinct inside me forces me to freeze, my eyes sweeping around to try and put a finger on who is watching me. I am being daft, I have never had problems on this road, and I have no proof that anyone is even close by, let alone watching me. Forcing myself to walk forward, I feel an invisible presence wrap around me, embracing me. It is the strangest sensation, and it makes me gasp. Spinning, I search the treeline on either side of me.

“Who goes there?” I ask, only realising after I have spoken that I should not be encouraging them to reveal themselves. After all, fae stalk the woods.

The presence rolls over me again, almost caressing me, and a mouthwatering scent fills my nostrils and clouds my mind. I’m terrified, yet inexplicably, my body relaxes, completely at odds to how I’m feeling in my mind. Without meaning to, I take a step towards the forest, almost as though I am being called by the pied piper, his lullaby controlling my actions. No, this is notwhat I want. There is something going on in the forest, and it’s not safe for me there.

Gritting my teeth, I fight against the compulsion to move forward, the feeling not my own. Digging my heels into the ground, I force myself to be still, not stepping forward. Fear grips me, yet I know with everything in my soul that I cannot falter and let myself be lured into the trees I once found so welcoming. I teeter on the edge of the boundary between the human lands and the fae realm. A small gust of wind could easily push me across, something that my mind is screaming would end in my death.

Movement ahead draws my eye—a large, dark shape that is difficult to make out, only to materialise into the figure of a man. He steps forward, his face the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, almost feminine in appearance. There is no mistaking him for a male, though, his masculine body clearly muscled. Pale, shoulder-length hair hangs loosely around his face in a way that should make him seem harried and messy, only it adds to his stunning appearance.

There is no confusion about what he is—fae. His sharp jaw and pointed ears are a dead giveaway, not to mention the otherworldly aura that seems to surround him.

Trust me. The words are whispered into my mind, that pull wrapping around me once more and reeling me in. Underneath it all, though, I can hear the darker undertones that promise violence. He has not even uttered a single word, yet I know this deep in my soul.

I stumble back, needing to put distance between us, and I finally manage to master my own body enough to get me out of reach.Close, too close, my frantic thoughts whisper over and over, yet I cannot seem to make myself do the sensible thing and run away.

The fae stops a few paces before the invisible boundary between realms, either not wanting to cross that line or unable to thanks to the spells of our ancestors. Extending a long, pale hand, he smiles at me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Come, my love. It is time for us to go.”

Emotions that are not my own swell inside me at his lyrical voice, and I feel an overwhelming need to listen to what he says. A smile pulls at my lips, and my body tingles at the thought of this stranger loving me. A gasp leaves my throat as I take the smallest step forward. The fae’s smile widens, and he nods encouragingly.

My love. Yes, he loves me, it is clear to see…

Rose scented thoughts flood my mind, and they feel so real as his fae magic works on me, twisting my fears into desires.

He is so handsome. He has come all this way, so he must care for me. I must have him—

No. This is not how I think. These thoughts are lies planted to make me believe that the fae means me no harm, and I should go with him. I can think of no good reason why the fae would try to draw humans into the woods. His thrall is so strong that it is taking everything in me to fight against him. Fear is the only sensation inside me that is more powerful than the fae’s magical call, so I force myself to focus on that, reminding myself that the creature is the one causing this reaction. I focus on the tremors that rack my body and the tightness of my arms that I unconsciously wrapped around myself. My muscles are so tight, it feels as though they might snap, and I have broken into a cold sweat.

Anything positive would not make me feel like this. No male should make me feel this way, no matter what the thoughts in my mind are telling me. My senses seem to be enhanced, most likely thanks to the terror that is helping me resist. Every rustle of leaves and changes around me register in my mind, despitenot pulling my gaze from the male before me, which is how I know it is no longer just the two of us. Another being has arrived, standing in the trees on the other side of the road, quietly watching the interaction between myself and the handsome fae.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to clear my mind from the hypnotic fog he is spinning over me. To my surprise, not being able to see him does actually help, giving me a moment to take several deep breaths and attempt to regain control.

“We felt you, and we answered your call,” the male behind me says.

Spinning, I take him in, assessing how much of a threat he is. His hair is much shorter and very dark, styled in a mohawk with his longer hair brushed back, the sides of his head shaved. He is taller than his friend, limbs long and spindly. His image seems to shake, and all I see is a handsome male. He almost looks human, although still impossibly beautiful, but nothing like the strange humanoid that was standing in his place just a moment ago.

I have no idea what they are talking about, and I assume they are using honied words to lure me to them. It makes me wonder what call they are speaking of. Does this have anything to do with what the shadowy stranger in the forest warned me about? Either way, asking more questions is only going to drag me deeper into their deception. Fae are known for tangling people up in their tricky words. It is another truth we learn from an early age.

---