Page 51 of Through the Wicked Wood

Useless.

Worthless.

“Why are they coming to me now?” My question isn’t pointed at anyone in particular but the rising anger in my chest catches my breath. “Why weren’t they there when…” I let my voice trail off, the shame of having this gift and not knowing how to wield it is too much to bear. I could have saved them. Or worse yet, my mother knew I possessed this ancient magick and purposely withheld the information from me.

“It’s different for each Dyrsjel. You haven’t had any encounters with them since your Ceremony?” Galen asks, pointing again to the wolves resting lazily at my sides. I bite my tongue as reality slams into me. All the times I hid from the wolves in the forest. Every moment I heard a howl, how quickly I ran. Shaking my head, shame and frustration lodge in my throat, leaving me speechless.

Galen glances around the group, his blue eyes narrowing slightly before ending the conversation by turning his back and making his way to the nearby stream. Sam and Jarek follow suit without muttering a word, keeping their eyes on the wolves as they head after Galen toward the water.

Sorin clears his throat, grabbing my attention.

“I truly wanted to tell you about speaking with the wolves, about having already gone through my Ceremony. I just wasn’t sure how,” I say, bending down to pat Alaric lightly on the head. A deep, contented sigh escapes him, causing me to smile despite the confusion still swirling in my gut.

“Oh, you told me about the wolves, love,” Sorin says as he bends down, holding his hand out to the wolf. Alaric sniffs his hand before settling back down in the dirt.

“What? When did I tell you?” I ask as I rack my brain trying to remember the day in Loxley I spoke with Alaric. How Agnes’ premonition had sent me spiraling through the woods. Sorin’s fingers graze my neck as he brushes my braid over my shoulder.

“That night in Loxley we had dinner together. You told me just before you passed out and I had to carry you to bed.” His fingers trace along my shoulder before his hand drops to clasp mine. “And to think,” he continues, “everyone doubts my ability to hold my wine.” A smile splays across his face before he dips his head to kiss me softly on the mouth. Nothing like the kiss we shared last night, but just as magnificent all the same. If I hadn’t been so shocked by what he just said I may have begged for more.

Scoffing, I step backward, pulling myself away from him. Stumbling over the giant canines at my feet in the process. “You should have said something!”

“I thought it was a drunken tale.” Sorin laughs. “Besides, I had a suspicion you could be a Dyrsjel that day we met on the river. Something about the way the wolf seemed to bend to your will. It isn’t common, if you didn’t realize, for these massive beasts to protect anyone but their pack.”

Confusion plagues my face. “You’ve heard of the Dyrsjel?” I frown, heart racing again as if I’m the only one not in on another secret.

Sorin hmms, before he simply says, “Yes.”

I wait for more of an explanation why he would’ve heard of such a thing while I had not. Then, the fog lifts from my mind. Like a gray mist dispersing as it hits the ocean horizon. “It’s common knowledge, isn’t it?” I ask, though I don’t need him to speak to know his answer. He nods his head, placing his hands in his pockets, the dimple that now possesses my entire heart hidden away behind his solemn expression. “It’s common knowledge,” I say again, “and my mother kept it from me.”

Sorin says nothing as he steps forward. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulls me flush with his body. I lean into his chest and soak up the heat of him. The smell of him. Pine and firewood. I relish in it, even if it’s just for now. Even if I don’t deserve it. My mind reels against the new found truth. That my mother was full of her own secrets. That she chose to keep such a huge part of me hidden. In all my studies in Valebridge, this large part of the Enchantress history was left out of it.

“As Galen said, it’s believed that only Dyrsjel’s have the power to call upon the Stones,” Sorin whispers, holding me close to his body. “Maybe she was protecting you? Having that sort of ability would put you even more at risk with the king.”

Anger rears its head again as I attempt to pull away, but Sorin’s hands are planted firmly against my back. “And that is why you pushed for me to join you?” Tears prickle my eyes, my body’s response to this overwhelming betrayal from my mother. From Sorin.

“That was part of it,” he says, finally easing up on his grip. I step back to meet his face, my brows furrow together and when I’m about to say something, Sorin brushes his fingers down my cheek. “Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers, placing a hand over his chest, “it’ll break my heart.” Crossing my arms, I take another step back. Despite the anger, the confusion, the look he’s giving me softens the blow. Which only angers me more.

“I knew you were an Enchantress,” he says, taking a timid step forward. “But when we met the wolves on the river that day—”

“The day I saved your life,” I say, boots rooted to the ground as he steps even closer.

“Yes, to which I am forever in debt.” He rests his hands on the tops of my shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “Something told me you were different. Something told me that maybe you were exactly who we needed to get to the Stones. To help Sam. To help the other Enchantresses still locked in Valebridge. To end this famine…this blight.”

“You didn’t tell me about your suspicion.”

“I didn’t,” he admits. His arms wrap around me again, pulling me flush to his chest. I fight back, leaning away from him, but he steps closer, forcing me into him.“When I realized you’d never met the wolves before that day, I thought you didn’t know. If it was true that you were a Dyrsjel, you needed to figure it out for yourself. It wasn’t my place. Besides, I wasn’t sure, not until just now.”

I push against his chest again, attempting to put some distance between us. He lets me go, but I don’t make it far. I don’t want to be far from him despite how frustrated I am.

“To be fair,” he continues, “you didn’t tell me about your Ceremony. All this time I thought you were without magick.” His hand moves from my back and slides to the back of my neck, gripping me there so I’m forced to look up at him.

“I didn’t know,” I whisper, guilt lining my insides. “I didn’t know I had any magick, I thought I…”

“It’s okay,” Sorin whispers, resting his chin on the top of my head. “I would have asked you to come with me, either way,” he says. Bending down, he presses his forehead into mine. “Enchantress or not. Dyrsjel or not, I would have asked you to come with me, Elora.”

“And why is that?” I’m not sure why I ask, maybe it’s a selfish question. Maybe hearing that he simply wanted me to come will help ease the truthful blows that hit me today.

“Because you enraptured me,” he laughs. “How could I resist that life altering scowl? There is no way I was leaving those woods without you, you fiery thing.” I smile into his chest, ignoring the voices in my head that say I don’t deserve him.

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