Page 9 of His Darkest Desire

Why was she reacting so strongly to a smell?

Get a hold of yourself, Kinsley! You’re sniffing a stranger’s clothing.

She jolted back and forced her eyes open.

Now who’s being creepy?

“Apparently me,” she muttered as she scanned the contents of the wardrobe. The dark clothing hanging within looked like something out of a renaissance faire costume collection. Long tunics with intricate embroidered patterns, refined poet shirts, and even a few hooded cloaks. Most of the color came from sashes folded over hangers.

If any of her things had been inside, they would’ve stood out like a sore thumb.

Closing the wardrobe, she walked to the desk, where she sought her purse and clothing amongst the clutter. But her belongings weren’t there either.

Kinsley ran her fingers along the spine of one of the books, studying the writing upon it. The same writing was on the other books and the loose papers—strange runes which held no meaning for her. But something itched at the back of her mind all the same.

When she and Liam had been in school, they’d sometimes written notes to each other in elven runes, which they would decipher using a guide they’d copied from a fantasy book. These symbols were nothing like those, but they still seemed familiar all the same. Like she’d known them once, long ago, but had somehow forgotten them.

Just your imagination, Kinsley.

Yet the thought remained, a little unsettling, a little intriguing.

Turning away from the desk, she moved to the nearest door and pushed. It swung open to reveal a bathroom.

A magical, breathtaking bathroom.

Looking around in awe, Kinsley slowly stepped inside.

Like the bedroom, ivy, moss, and crystals abounded here. Trees grew from the stone floor on either side of the room. Their branches spread across the ceiling, twining with each other to create a beautiful, interwoven pattern too perfect to be real. Tall windows with branchlike adornments across their glass dominated the far wall, looking out into dense woodland.

The shelves built into the stone walls held stacks of towels and all sorts of colorful bottles and jars.

But what truly caught her attention was the huge bathtub at the center of the room. It was crafted of rose quartz, its outside raw and irregular, its inside smooth, and was filled with steaming, spice scented water. The tub emitted a gentle pink glow that was contrasted by the thick green moss blanketing the stone floor around it. More little jars and bottles stood on the rim near the old-fashioned faucet.

“This is unreal,” Kinsley said as she moved toward the bathtub. The moss was cool beneath her feet.

She skimmed her hand along the smooth rim, unable to detect even the slightest imperfection in the quartz.

Either an insanely rich, eccentric hermit or an elf lived here, both of which seemed equally absurd and equally likely.

What she didn’t see right away was a toilet. After some searching, she located a small room tucked in one corner, its door nearly hidden amidst the wall’s stonework. The simple chamber featured a bench with a hole cut out. It reminded Kinsley of an outhouse, though it lacked the smell usually associated with such places. Bravely—or foolishly—she peered into the hole. It looked…bottomless.

“I half expected a crystal toilet, but I suppose this fits.”

She’d used plenty of outhouses in her life, and she’d had to go full-blown mountain woman many times during hikes and camping trips. This hole was the pinnacle of luxury compared to some places.

She didn’t see any toilet paper, but there was a spigot built into the wall that she assumed was a bidet. There was also a shallow basin carved in the stone nearby with water trickling into it as though from a spring, likely meant for washing hands.

Lifting the hem of the nightgown, she hurriedly used the toilet and cleaned herself up.

“Now to find my host.” Returning to the bedroom, she strode to the only other door, grasped the iron handle, and tugged it open.

“Oh wow,” Kinsley breathed as she crossed the threshold into a large, circular chamber.

The trunk of a ginormous tree stood in the center of the space. The ceiling closed around the trunk overhead. At its base, the tree spread into numerous thick roots, all of which disappeared beneath the floorboards. Moss and mushrooms clung to the bark in places, and shards of crystal on the walls cast it in a multihued glow.

Tentatively, Kinsley stepped closer to the tree. There were tiny markings carved in the bare bark—runes like she’d seen in the bedroom. She traced one of the symbols with her fingertips. It thrummed beneath her touch. She jerked her hand back, rubbing her fingers and thumb together as her brow furrowed.

Odd.

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