“You found me in the forest.” It was not a question, but a statement. She could see his mind working, attempting to uncover something from that night. “Where exactly?”
“Just on the edge of it, lying halfway between the field outside Sardorf and the trees,” she had created this story days ago when he had first awoken after the incident.
His gaze held a look of doubt, freezing over as she visibly saw him retreat within himself, closing himself off from her.
“We should head back,” he said woodenly. “I take it you know the way?”
She opened and closed her mouth, stunned at his sudden change of mood. Finally, she opted to turn on her heel and head into the forest.
It was going to be a long walk back.
15
Oriana
31st day of the Eleventh Month, 1774
It had been three long and agonizing weeks since the passionate and catastrophic kiss she had shared with Garren. She had thought of little else since it had happened, waking in the dead of night hot and flustered. It was pure madness.
Ever since that day, Garren had acted as if they were merely acquaintances, even though they took up residence in the same home. He would simply say a pleasant good morning, barely offering her a passing glance before heading out for the day, and she wouldn’t see him again until the following morning. It was an excruciating and never-ending cycle.
Oriana had continued to stay at Haldis’s for the past weeks, not wanting to chance Garren following her into the forest, only solidifying his questions and assumptions from the night of their kiss. He was getting too close to remembering what exactly had happened, and she didn’t want him gleaning any more information, to piece it all together.
But the thing was, she wasn’t the only one hiding something. He was too. They were both keeping secrets, so why did she feel so bad about it?
The list of odd occurrences surrounding him had only grown during the past month. A thousand questions swam through her mind whenever she thought of them, the first of them being how he had unknowingly gotten through her wards and into her utopia. She should have felt him, should have known he had been getting closer that night.
The second was why he hadn’t died from his injuries that night. Oriana remembered it well, he had been balancing the fine line of life and death like a man walking a rope suspended high in the air. She hadn’t thought he would actually make it, but she had tried to save him anyway. And to her astonishment, he had survived.
Third was the strange scar cut into his flesh that he insisted he had had since birth. But then, why did he not have any scar or section of pink healing flesh from the wound she had seen that night? It had been long and gapping, revealing the bone far beneath, yet she had seen the smooth, perfect skin that had replaced it with her own eyes. If something that gruesome could no longer be seen on his flesh, then what had given him that awful scar on his face?
One more oddity was that he was incredibly strong. She recalled him cutting down the grand evergreen tree in four swings, with a sword no less. And that brought her to the biggest mystery of all, the one that made her head spin and sent a chill–not the good kind–flooding through her. How did a man from the southern city of Cirus–a small, seaside fishing town–have a sword capable of piercing her skin, effectively surpassing the limitations of her curse? A sword he had supposedly made himself. It made no sense. The impossibility of it was insurmountable. What did it mean? Who exactly was Garren the demon slayer?
Oriana would think about all those things later, but tonight she didn’t have time. Tonight was the full moon, which meant she needed to get into the forest soon. She sighed wearily as she finished dressing and combing through her tangled web of hair.
Usually, she would spend the week leading up to the full moon in the forest alone, clearing her mind, relaxing her body and soul, and preparing for the change that would take her. Often, she would look through her journals at the names of her victims, at the pictures she had crudely drawn of those whose names she did not know. This month she had not been given the opportunity of that ritual. Tension knotted her shoulders, her back stiff from a restless night of sleep.
Garren had practically lived at the monastery for the past three weeks. No doubt he was thumbing through page after page of every single work in that dungeon. He would never stop, not until he figured out the riddle of the Phantom Wood. He would search and fight until he was dead. Her chest ached at the thought.
Not a day had gone by that her mind hadn’t been full of thoughts of Garren. He was like a parasite that had latched onto her brain. There was no denying that they were similar, both in mind and in spirit. It felt as if their lives had been written together since the beginning of time. She couldn’t help but think they were supposed to have met–to be together–that their fates were entwined, like two branches of the same tree growing around one another.
Oriana sighed as she finished breaking her fast with Haldis. “I think I may head over to the forest now. I’d like to spend the rest of the day there, preparing before tonight.”
Haldis smiled up at Oriana lovingly, like a mother to her daughter. “Very well, dearest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yes.” Oriana offered Haldis a warm smile in response. “See you in the morning.” She tried not to think of the fact that she had so few mornings left with Haldis. The final blood moon of the curse hovered like a hunting snow lion on the horizon, waiting for its moment to pounce and tear her from herself. This woman had been her constant companion for so many years. It was strange how their relationship had evolved, considering how they had first met. Even at such a young, innocent age, Haldis had been wise beyond her years. Oriana’s shoulders sagged as she headed out the door, the full weight of her looming fate resting upon them.
They had not seen Garren this morning, which probably meant he had either left well before dawn or never came home last night. It was infuriating not knowing. She wanted to know what he had been up to during his late-night escapades and daily excursions. He couldn’t have been at the monastery the entire time, every day. She had attempted to follow him a few times, but the crafty brute had lost her in the crowd each time.
There was no avoiding it. She had to go into the forest today. She could worry about Garren and what he was up to later. Better yet, let Garren wonder where she was for a few days. Maybe it would get him to finally acknowledge her existence. She smiled vindictively at the thought of Garren feeling the way she had these past weeks.
As she headed into the forest, calmness spread over her. This place was hers–her forest, her creation. No matter what it was meant for, it felt like a part of her. It was the only true place she had called home for centuries.
The hairs on Oriana’s nape prickled, raising with awareness. Someone was following her. There was a sudden shift in the forest–an imposing presence–and she knew exactly who it was.
That infuriating, conniving scoundrel. He had been waiting, watching her for who knows how long, just hoping to see her creep her way back into the forest. She knew it.
She sighed, frustrated, and rolled her eyes. He had picked the perfect time to finally show an interest in her again. It seemed she wouldn’t be going to her cottage to spend some much-needed alone time before the evening after all. Well, if he wanted to ruin her day of solitude, she might as well have some fun with him.
