Page 26 of Sweet Silver Bells
"One hundred and fourteen, maybe older. The urges—they became unbearable only a few years after I sealed myself in the tree."
“So these urges … you’ve never been touched?” He cleared his throat.
Why the fuck are you talking about this?
“Touched?” she asked, her words slithering, snake-like, like he was being lured into a trap.
“I touch myself all the time. I make the branches grow and massage the walls inside of me until I scream and pant until I have no voice left. Then it’s time to go back into my tree.”
Hunter’s eyes widened, his jaw dropped.
You’re not hearing her right.
One thing he knew, though, was that she wasn’t coming with him. She wouldn’t let him help her, save her. He’d found no damsel. There was no distress.
“Do you want to see?” she asked, no smile on her face, a seriousness with no humor, no sarcasm. Hunter's mouth dropped.
“Do I want to see what?”
The woman smiled as she opened her mouth, a song escaping, ethereal notes pouring out. The forest reacted instantly, the trees and bushes around Hunter growing and shifting until a branch grew out to her, smooth with a medium thickness.
“I would sit on this,” she said, breaking it off. “And writhe around until I am filled with stars, it’s the only other time I can see them since I stay under the cover of the trees.”
She moved the branch down her breast, circling it down her navel. Hunter let his eyes linger. His stomach tightened as her hand, her tool, came down to her pelvis, gliding to her upper thigh as she pushed in, ripping her skin.
“No,” he had to yell. Panic overtook him.
“Why?” she asked him.
“It’s not right.” He knew how annoying that sounded. He was irritated with himself that it was the only thing he could think to say. It was how he felt, though.
I can’t stand here and watch. I can’t take advantage.
“I came here to help you,” he said. “But you don’t want help.”
She was silent, her eyes large and sparkling with what he thought was anger and rejection. If what she said was true, then she likely didn’t get told no too often.
You offended her, you idiot.
The bulge in his pants was offended, too.
“I can go,” he said, not knowing now what to do. It seemed the safest thing. She wasn’t frostbitten, she wasn’t crying, she wasn’t asking for help. Hunter knew when to leave; he knew when he wasn’t welcome.
You’re going to lose your job over this.
The light, cheery singing of birds skipping through the treetops helped him refocus, recenter, bringing his heart and breath back to a normal rhythm.
“It was nice to meet you,” he said, turning in the direction of the mansion and estate. He took a few steps, the sounds of the forest crackling and whooshing around him from his movement, from the life and energy he had sacrificed to the trees. It felt like little pieces of his soul as he prepared to go back to his car, now knowing he was perfectly sane, but still leaving a woman alone in the forest, so vulnerable, so unprotected.
I’m sorry, Sarah. I did try.
He was sorry for many reasons. Too many to count.
“Olivia.”
Hunter stopped mid-step, his foot hovering. He took her in again; her chin was raised high, and the anger ebbed from her gaze. She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t friendly.
“What was that?”
