Every Unwanted Girl did, of course. Though no one ever bothered to ask.
Because Xander had, Bisma felt compelled to tell him. More than that, she wanted to. Their histories were part of who they were, and she wished for the girls to be known, truly, beyond simply being the monsters in the woods.
‘She came to Enchanted Forest when she was five,’ Bisma said, remembering. ‘I was fourteen at the time. She explained that her parents were marrying her to a man in one of the neighboring villages—one of those small villages I can’t even bother to remember the name of. Basically sold her off.’
‘She wasfive?’ Xander asked, eyes wide with horror.
Bisma nodded. ‘She didn’t even know what was happening; they told her she would get to wear a pretty dress and get gifts.’ She clenched her jaw tight enough to make her head hurt. Her blood boiled at the story, but she continued. ‘It wasn’t until Mei’s sister, who was about twelve at the time, came home for the wedding withherhusband. She’d been sold the same way a few years back and warned Mei to run the night before the wedding. Her sister told her to go to the Forest, to risk death rather than to be wed, and so she did.’
‘She must have been so afraid,’ Xander said, his voice a whisper.
‘She was. But the Enchanted Forest saved her.’ She turned to look at Mei.
Worry turned Bisma’s insides. The Forest had saved her then, but what about now?
‘Don’t worry,’ Xander said, as if reading her thoughts. ‘You’ll save her now, too.’
Bisma hoped so.
‘I suspect it will take a few hours, at least,’ Xander said, coming round to Bisma’s side. He set a gentle hand to her shoulder. ‘Why don’t you rest?’
Bisma shook her head, taking Mei’s hand in hers. ‘I won’t leave her.’ She turned to Xander. ‘But if you must go to the Apothecary, by all means.’
‘It’s alright,’ Xander said. ‘I already told my mother I wouldn’t be in today.’
She wrinkled her brows. ‘You’re allowed to do that?’
‘I sometimes have cases of my own to tend to; she understands that. I was actually on my way to the greenhouse to get an early start when I heard you knocking on the door.’
He wasn’t worried or stressed at all; what a marvel. Recounting Mei’s story had made Bisma angry and frustrated, and to think of him as his own master, able to do as he pleased, and with his mother’s support, no less—hideous envy seeped through her.
‘I’ll pay you for your services, do not fret,’ she said tightly. She shook his hand off her shoulder.
His brows knit together. ‘Bis, no, that’s not—that’s not what I was saying.’ He took a step closer, and she saw the dark circles beneath his eyes; he was exhausted, too. ‘You don’t need to pay me.’
She set her jaw. ‘Of course I do. I won’t take your charity.’
‘It’s not—I didn’t … mean it like that,’ he said. ‘I want to help you—’ He broke off, looking away as he bit his lip. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. The copper locks were wild and messy; she had the sudden urge to run her fingers through them, smoothing his hair down.
She mentally slapped herself. ‘You don’t have to stay,’ she said, her back rigid. ‘It’ll be hours, as you said. I’ll watch her.’
She turned back to Mei, who seemed to be trying to shift a little, as if uncomfortable. She moved forward to adjust Mei’spillow, but as she did, blood rushed to her head. Her vision darkened and she swayed.
Xander caught her, hands steady on her waist. She gasped, looking up into his darkened eyes. Her heartbeat was fast, a thunderous roar as exhilarating as a downpour.
‘I’m worried about you,’ he said, clenching his jaw.
A jolt of electricity splintered across her chest, as though she’d been struck by a lightning bolt. She blinked up at him, feeling dazed.
‘Why don’t you get some rest?’ he asked, stepping closer. ‘We have guest rooms in the house. Or you could go home, check on your sisters. I’ll watch her.’
She felt his breath on her cheek, whispering against a tendril of hair. The sensation was heady, delicious. Her pulse raced, blood rushing in her ears. She wanted to draw closer, to wrap her arms around him, feel his warmth against her.
And that made her afraid.
She wrenched out of his grasp, glaring. ‘Don’ttouchme,’ she snapped, her voice laced with venom.
She was being mean, she knew she was, but she couldn’t bear how he was looking at her, the tender care in his eyes. She was afraid of what it might inspire her to do.
