‘You don’t have to be jealous of anyone or anything. We were just catching up.’
‘You and the tree?’
‘Maybe chatting was the wrong word,’ I said with a blush in my cheeks. ‘More like, I was listening to what it had to tell me.’
To his credit, Wyn didn’t laugh. Instead, he cocked his head towards the stump and concentrated.
‘How does it work?’ he asked. ‘Do you hear actual words in your head or is it more of a feeling?’
I’d never loved him more.
‘You kind of have to tune in to their frequency,’ I explained. ‘Everything is talking all the time but it doesn’t always make sense. Kind of reminds me of when Dad and I would arrive in a new city and I heard everyone talking in a language I couldn’t understand. After a while, you start to pick up bits and pieces, and if you stay long enough, eventually, you’d be able to speak it yourself. Just listen. Are any of these trees talking to you?’
He stood up and considered his options with soft eyes before walking all the way over to the tall, proud oak tree that stood across the street from Bell House. The tree he’d been leaning against the first time I’d ever laid eyes on him. I followed, watching as he ran a strong hand over the rough bark, his eyes closed. Pushing up onto my tiptoes, I kissed him softly, his plush firm lips opening against mine in surprise.
‘Did the tree tell you to do that?’ he asked as his eyelids fluttered open.
‘You don’t want to know what they said,’ I replied, lacing my fingers through his. ‘This one has a dirty mind.’
‘Then I definitely do want to know what they had to say,’ Wyn murmured against my mouth.
Gently pushing me against the tree, he kissed me back, the connection between us growing more urgent and impatient. His body pressed against mine as though he had a very important message to deliver and this was the only way to make sure I properly understood. Surrendering to the sensation, I received it loud and clear.
‘Want to come inside?’ I asked, my voice breaking as his lips moved to the side of my mouth, my jaw, my throat. ‘Ashley should be out for a while.’
‘A while isn’t going to be long enough,’ he replied, teeth nipping against my ear. ‘Why don’t we go to my place?’
The whole square sighed with delight as his thigh moved between mine and I instinctively clenched against his thick muscular leg. It felt so right, the warmth of him, the beat of his heart in perfect sync with my own. His hands grasped my hips and every leaf on every tree and every frond of Spanish moss chattered excitedly. When he pulled all my hair over my left shoulder and nuzzled into my neck, I struggled to remain upright, and a whole patch of azaleas burst into full bloom beside us.
‘Jackson found out some information about Astrid,’ I made myself say, sliding out from between him and the tree, chiding the out-of-season flowers as they sheepishly returned to the soil before anyone could see.
‘Anything that’s going to change what happens to us in the next ten seconds?’
‘No,’ I admitted. ‘But—’
‘Then I don’t want to hear about Jackson,’ he replied. ‘It can wait.’
I didn’t know if that was true but I badly wanted to believe him.
‘Let me run inside for a moment,’ I said, tugging on his arm and drawing him quickly across the street to Bell House before a tourist trolley could run us both down. ‘I just want to put these papers somewhere safe.’
He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a groan but came with me anyway, hands never once leaving my body. Stumbling up the front steps, falling over each other, I looked up, expecting the door to swing open for me but it didn’t. The house was angry and afraid and in an instant so was I, chilled to the bone by what I saw. Nailed to the front of the door, still warm and bleeding, was the dead body of a recently slaughtered squirrel. Underneath it, five deep claw marks gouged the glossy wood. I instinctively moved away, holding a hand to my abdomen as though the marks were scratched into my flesh rather than my home.
‘What the …’
‘Fuck,’ I heard Wyn exhale behind me.
I’d asked a question. He seemed to know the answer.
‘What does it mean?’ I asked before pressing a hand against my mouth, nauseated by the loss of life pouring down my door and pooling at our feet.
He spun around to search the square but whoever was responsible was long gone now or I’d have sensed them myself. Turning back towards the house, Wyn encircled me in his arms, wrapping me up in a tight, protective embrace, and when he spoke, his words were infused with genuine fear I’d never heard from him before.
‘It means they know,’ he stated, his whole body trembling. ‘It means the wolves are coming for you.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘This is bad, Em, this is really, really, really bad.’
