Page 53 of Through the Wicked Wood

Stopping again, I spin to face her. She’s tall, only a few inches shorter than I am. Her fiery eyes are intensified by the growing circles of dark under them. “We can’t risk you or Elora that close to Davenport,” I tell her. “Going around the Wicked Wood would lead us straight into the city and they yield a much larger guard station, it isn’t worth the two of you being seen.”

“But facing the nymph is a better option?” She steps toward me, fury creasing her brows. “How is that worth the risk?”

“Because I, dear sister, have a plan.” I toss her a wink, though my stomach knots with dread. She chews her bottom lip for a moment. Stepping closer, I bundle the firewood into one arm, using the other to reach for her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Trust me, Samaria.”

“I trusted you before.”

“And I made damn sure you made it back safely,” I clip out, hating my voice.

“Sorin—”

I cut her off, shaking my head and squeezing her shoulder again. “We’ll get through Sam,” I say, softening my tone. “The faster we get the Stones, the faster we can get to Valebridge.” My eyes drift downward, stomach still a frenzied mess.

“It’s not your fault, Sorin,” Sam whispers, taking a step toward me. She gives me a wry look before cocking her head to the side. “Have you told her? About any of it?” she asks, reaching out and giving my arm a squeeze.

My jaw flexes but I say nothing. Sam shakes her head, brushing past me to take the lead back to camp. My knotted stomach only coils further. I have many secrets of my own, but I can’t bring myself to see the look on Elora’s face when she discovers them. Not with the way she looked at me last night.

Selfish, I hear my mother’s voice.

Reckless, William used to say.

Coward, my own voice pops into my head.

I am all of those things and still, I bite my tongue.

“You are better than that, Sorin,” Sam says over her shoulder as she begins to walk away. “Be better than that.”

* * *

Dusk has settled as I hike up the nearby hill, leaving Galen, Jarek, and Sam to tend to the fire after our dinner of snared rabbit and salmonberries. The rabbit is small, hardly enough for the five of us to share, but it’s all the forest was willing to give tonight. So, we’ll gratefully take it. The orange flames of the campfire mix with the emerald light of the pool cast a yellow haze around our camp. Elora didn’t join us, even though she is the one who caught the rabbit.

“Not hungry.” Was her only reply, but I won’t stand for it.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” I say, approaching her with caution. She’s been inseparable from the wolves since this afternoon, and I can’t say I blame her. The power radiates off of them. Ancient. Deep. A bit terrifying.

“We were just talking about you, actually,” she teases, casting Alaric and Ruse a glance. The wolves take note of our closeness but don’t move from their spots. I have no doubt they can sense my nerves, so I try my best to calm my heart rate as I slide next to Elora.

“Well, hopefully only the best things then. I have a feeling these two don’t give out second chances often.” Alaric yawns, showing off his pointed teeth. Elora nods at the two of them before they both stand and retreat down the hill and into the deepness of the woods.

I force Elora to take the rabbit leg I brought with me and a handful of salmonberries. A loud huff of air is her only protest, but despite her stubbornness, she takes it and scarfs it down.

“I know Galen said this was something that should come naturally…” Her voice drifts, shaking her head before wiping her mouth clean with the sleeve of her shirt. “But I don’t know where to even begin with my magick. It’s like it’s just beneath the surface, but nothing I do makes it come forth.” The sense of defeat in her voice is palpable. “And communicating with the wolves is so sporadic. Like their voices are muffled through layers of fabric.”

Her shoulders are tight as I place my hands there. I let them trail down to her waist, pulling her into me. The tension in her body melts as I hold her and something settles inside of me that I didn’t realize was at unrest.

“Give it time,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “I imagine it will take practice just like any other skill, and Galen said he’s studied the Dyrsjel before. He will help you figure this out. The wolves, your magick. You can trust him.”

“We don’t have much time,” she counters as she rests her head on my chest, welcoming my closeness instead of fighting it. “If there’s a way to utilize this ability I have with the wolves,” she continues, “I imagine it could be quite useful once we reach the Wicked Woods. Or better yet when we make it to Valebridge.” Her body tenses again, and I don’t have to see her face to know she’s chewing her cheek. “All this time I’ve had this magick and I have wasted it,” she whispers. “I feel more powerless than I did before.”

That defeated tone again breaks me. I hum quietly, resolved to help as my hands work their way up her back, coaxing the worry out of her with each small slide of my palm. She lets out a soft sigh before nuzzling deeper into my chest, warmth blooming there with every crack in the armor she often wears.

Pulling her back, I tilt her chin towards me so she’s forced to meet my eyes. “Can’t you see, love?” I say, brushing her braid off her shoulder, letting my fingers glide down the jagged scar on her neck. “How the moon and the tides fight for your attention?” Bending down, I place a kiss on the small space between her neck and jaw. “How the owls turn and the wolves bow...” Another kiss. “How my knees weaken with a single touch?” Pulling back, her eyes are glazed, their golden glow beaming in the darkness. “You don’t need anyone to tell you how powerful you are, Elora. Open your eyes, and look for yourself. The magick you wield is in you, the walls you’ve built are sturdy. Strong. And once, I’m sure, were very necessary. But maybe it’s time to let them down, even just a little.”

A tear slips down her cheek, and I’m there in an instant to dry it, to soak it up. Standing on her toes, she cranes her neck to meet my mouth, pulling me into a deep kiss. My stomach dips and swirls as our mouths connect, and for a moment, I don’t think I’ll be able to break apart. For a moment, it’s just Elora and myself and nothing else in this Mother forsaken world matters.

But reluctantly, we separate. Breaths heavy, I wipe away any last tears from her eyes.

“What did I do to deserve your attention?” she whispers, lacing her fingers with mine. My chest cracks and I’m unsure how to respond. How to explain that I am the one on the undeserving end. Especially with all I have yet to tell her. But whatever this thread of fate that’s been woven between us is, I won’t deny.

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