I backed up even more, hands raised. “I’m allergic to pine.”
“You are not.” Pierce’s eyes narrowed.
“I am! Terribly.” I inhaled and then forced out a pathetic fake sneeze, followed by a cough that sounded more like I was choking. “See? Fatal. Let’s go.”
Vix leaned close to my ear. “Careful what you fake. Some of us see that as a challenge.”
I opened my mouth for another retort when Pierce appeared on my other side. Without warning, his hand slipped into mine, warm and firm, and I nearly jumped out of my skin at the contact.
“This way.” He tugged me forward, his grip leaving no room for argument.
Before I could protest or even think, Vix captured my other hand, sandwiching me between them like a very confused filling.
“What are you doing?” I tried to pull away, but they moved in unison, guiding me through the first row of trees.
“Preventing your escape.” Vix squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a way that sent a completely unwelcome tingle up my arm.
Pierce’s posture remained rigid as a board, but his fingers interlocked with mine with startling intimacy. “Statistical analysis shows people are sixty-nine percent less likely to run when physical contact is maintained.”
“Did you make that up?” I tried to sound annoyed, but it came out more exasperated than anything as we moved deeper into the cut trees.
“I never fabricate statistics.” The corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly.
The scent grew stronger as we wound through the maze of trees. I held my breath, waiting for revulsion to set in, but instead fought against a strange tugging that felt like a hook had lodged behind my sternum.
“Close your eyes.” Vix’s voice dropped to a whisper that tickled my ear.
“Absolutely not.”
“Trust the process, North.” Pierce’s thumb traced a small circle on the back of my hand.
We stopped in what felt like the center of the lot, surrounded by trees of various heights, each filling the air with a crisp, wintry fragrance that felt jarringly, inexplicably familiar.
Pierce released my hand but stayed close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him. “Now find the one that calls to you.”
“Trees don’t talk.” I wrapped my arms around my torso, annoyed to realize I already missed the warmth of their hands.
Vix chuckled, the sound low and warm in the cool evening air. “Maybe you’re not listening right.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly gave myself a headache. “Fine. I’ll play your little wintry scavenger hunt game.”
A few feet away, a family with two small children giggled as they circled a modest-sized tree. The mom held up her phone, capturing their joy while the dad lifted the smaller child to touch a higher branch. Something twisted in my chest, and I turned away quickly.
“I’ll just pick a tree so we can leave.” I took a step forward,pretending to inspect the nearest pine with exaggerated interest.
Vix moved behind me. “That’s not how this works. You don’t pick the tree; it picks you.”
“Technically, it’s more of a resonance response than a choice.” Pierce’s eyes tracked my movements with unnerving focus.
I wandered a few steps deeper into the lot, their presence at my back like silent sentinels. “Let me guess, the tree will glow when I find the right one? Sing a little carol?”
My sarcasm hung in the air, unanswered. I turned to catch their reactions, but both men had stopped several paces back, watching me with identical expressions of patient anticipation.
“What?” I crossed my arms defensively.
Pierce nodded toward the rows ahead. “Continue.”
With a huff, I spun back around and moved forward, determined to grab the next reasonable-looking tree and declare this mission accomplished. But something strange happened as I advanced through the rows. My steps slowed without conscious direction, and the artificial brightness from the floodlights seemed to dim around the edges of my vision.
