“Yep…we got quite close.”
Maya studies me for a moment, her head tilted. “Do you have feelings for him?”
The question is quiet and direct, and it hits me hard.
“I did,” I say. “Maybe I still do because these things are hard just to turn off. But I don’t think Sebastian is capable of ever falling in love. Not with me. Not with anyone. He carries too much. He holds everyone at arm’s length, and the moment you get close, he finds a reason to push you away.”
Maya is quiet for a beat. Maxwell yells with excitement and starts crawling toward the cat.
“If you have feelings for him,” she says carefully, “you should probably hear him out. That would be my advice, because you never know. He might surprise you.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she holds up her free hand.
“Chances are good he won’t be able to fix it. What he said to you… That kind of accusation is poison. But if you hear him out and he can’t make it right, then you can move on to the next chapter of your life without carrying regret with you. You’ll know for sure.” She gives me a small, knowing look. “Regret is heavier than heartbreak, Isla. Trust me on that.”
I look away, toward the pot where the water is beginning to simmer.
“I’ll think on it,” I say.
I wrap a cloth around the handle of the pot and lift it from the hook, pouring the hot water into the cup. The bark darkens immediately, releasing that pungent, bitter smell into the air. I set the pot down and hold the cup between both hands, letting the warmth seep into my palms.
Maya wrinkles her nose. “Why are you drinking caboult tea?”
Maya keeps one eye on Maxwell while she talks. He is crawling after the cat, who keeps walking away every time he gets closer.
“Is that what you call black bark tea in these parts?” My cheeks grow warm. “I’m taking it to be safe.”
Maya’s eyebrows go up. She looks at the cup in my hands, then at the pouch on the bench.
“Can I see the bark more closely?” she asks.
I hand her the pouch. She opens it and pulls out a piece, turning it between her fingers. She frowns.
“Isla, I know a thing or two about herbs and…um…I’m sorry to tell you this, but I don’t think this is black bark. This looks like caboult to me. It is used to help with headaches.”
The warmth drains from my face.
“What do you mean by headaches? No, no…this is black bark.”
“They are very similar. Even the trees look alike,” Maya says, running her thumb along the surface. “But caboult has smoother bark than black bark does. It’s an easy mistake to make. We don’t have too many caboult trees in these parts. They grow further south.” She hands the piece back to me.
South. Where the shifterfae live.
No.
It can’t be.
“It tastes just like black bark,” I say, my voice thin. “Are you sure? This tea is just as bitter. I’ve had black bark tea before.”
“The taste is nearly the same.” Maya’s tone is gentle but firm. “I don’t think this is the right one, Isla.”
My stomach rolls. I set the cup down on the edge of the hearth.
“Do you have any black bark for me to take?”
“I do, but it’s too late to take it now. If Sebastian’s seed has already taken root, nothing except nature itself will dislodge what is happening inside you.”
I nod.
