Excerpt: A Ruin of Roses

Prologue

A low growl rumbled through the Forbidden Wood. My heart jumped into my throat.

The beast!

I darted behind the nearest tree and flattened my back against the rough bark. My tweed bag hung across my torso, filled with the precious cargo I’d stolen from the everlass field. If the beast found me with this—if it found me in the Forbidden Wood at all—I was done for. It would kill me as it had done countless others, regardless of the fact I was only fourteen.

It didn’t matter that I was too young to shift, if shifting were still possible for us after the curse. If I was old enough to steal, I was old enough to die for my sins.

A tree branch cracked. What sounded like a large foot crunched brittle grass. Another touched down, the creature slowing. It either sensed someone close or had caught my scent.

I sucked in a breath and squeezed my eyes shut, my hands shaking. Loud snuffling filled the silence. The beast sniffing out its prey.

My parents didn’t even know I’d come. Nana had fallen ill, the effects of the curse that had damned our kingdom. Everyone said there was no cure. But I’d found a way. I could slow the effects, at least. I needed the everlass plant, though, and we hardly had any. I was still learning how to properly grow it. No one else in the village could do much with it at all. Something about it spoke to me, though. I would figure it out eventually, I knew I could—but right now, I was out of time.

My lungs burned. I was afraid to breathe.

More grass crunched under the beast’s enormous feet. It was moving in my direction!

A whimper escaped my lips. I slapped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late. The footsteps ceased. It had heard.

The darkness lay thick around me. Silence.

The beast roared, making me jump half out of my skin. Fear doused me in adrenaline, and then I was running. Sprinting as fast as I could go. I crashed through the brush. Rounded a tree.

Its footsteps gained. It was coming so fast! How could I possibly escape?

Loud grunts sounded way above me, its breath puffing out as it moved. If its head was that high off the ground, it was much bigger than the rumors had said.

A wall of brush waited up ahead. Two trees crossed within it, creating a narrow opening between the thorns. I took a chance and dashed between them.

Sliding sounded behind me, and I glanced back to see two enormous feet ending in long, sharp claws churn the dirt. They stopped just before the opening.

Crying now, unable to help it, I kept going, getting onto my hands and knees and crawling. Dense foliage covered me overhead. Thorns ripped at my flesh. I continued to crawl, now on elbows and knees.

Breath blew out behind me. It was tracking my scent.

The dark hollow up ahead announced the end of this natural tunnel. Blood trickled down my cheek from where a thorn had ripped through. The bag of everlass crunched under my body. I knew that would be bad for the elixir, but I didn’t have much choice.

I needed to get it out of here. Nana’s life depended on it. Her cough was really bad, and her breathing was shallow. She needed help.

Summoning my courage, I pushed up to a crouch in the darkness, looking out at the starless night. Trees rose all around, and the ground was a tangle of weeds and brambles. Nothing moved. Could the beast have moved on?

In my heart of hearts, I knew the answer, but my fear was out of control.

I thought about staying put, but it could wait me out. Or come in after me. It had an armored face, everyone said. A few vines and thorns wouldn’t trouble it.

I sprinted forward, sobs choking me.

Its roar followed me, ever closer. My breathing came in harried, haggard gasps. I pumped at the air with my fists and rounded a tree. The edge of the wood was just up ahead. Although other horrors could cross that line, the beast, the guardian of the Forbidden Wood, could not.

Lights in the village jiggled in the wet haze of my vision. Candles in windows. Fires in yards. They awaited me. They were right up ahead!

The roar rattled my bones, much too close.

The end was near.

Chapter 1

Glowing golden eyes tore me out of sleep. I sucked in a terrified breath and sat up in a rush. My hair was plastered to my face with sweat. My shirt clung to my back. A nightmare.

No, worse than a nightmare. A memory.

I still remembered busting through that tree line at fourteen and catching my foot on a rock. Falling and skidding on my face. When I’d stopped rolling, I lay sprawled out, facing the wood.

Those glowing golden eyes had glared at me through the darkness. The beast’s head had been impossibly high, among the tree branches. I’d never seen its body. The night had consumed it.

That image still played on a loop in my nightmares all these long years later. Nine years of replays.

A ragged, wet cough brought me out of my panic. I pulled in a deep breath to ground myself in the moment. The hack sounded again. Father. He was getting worse.

I sighed wearily, pushing back my hair and then the covers.

My sister, Sable, jerked awake in the narrow bed beside mine in our tiny room. We didn’t have much, but at least we had a roof over our heads. For now, anyway.

Muted moonlight filtered through the threadbare curtains, and I could just make out her face turning to me, her eyes large with fear. She knew what that cough meant.

“It’s okay,” I told her, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “It’s fine. I have more of the nulling elixir. We haven’t run out yet.”

She nodded, sitting up and bunching the sheets near her chest.

She was just fourteen, the age I’d been when I narrowly survived the beast only to lose Nana anyway.

It was different now, though. Since then, I’d worked diligently with the special everlass elixir I devised. It still didn’t cure the curse’s sickness, but it drastically slowed it down and nulled most of the effects. Because of it, and because I’d given the recipe to the village and helped them learn to make it, we’d only lost one person so far this year. If the winter would just let up already, spring would help us revitalize our gardens. The plants mostly went dormant in the winter, not growing many new leaves. The gardens in our small yards weren’t big enough to sustain us if we had someone on the brink. There were many on the brink.

My older brother, Hannon, pushed open the door and stuck his head in the room. His red hair swirled around his head like a tornado. A splash of freckles darkened his pale face. Unlike me, the guy didn’t tan for nothing. He came in two colors: white and red.

“Finley,” he said before realizing I was already up. He left the door open but stepped out, waiting for me.

“He’s deteriorating,” Hannon said softly when I was in the hall. “He doesn’t have long.”

“He’s lasted longer with the sickness than anyone else. And he’ll continue to last. I’ve made some recent improvements. It’ll be okay.”

I took a step toward Father’s room, just next to mine, but my brother stopped me with a hand to my arm. “He’s on borrowed time, Finley. How long can this go on? He’s suffering. The kids are watching him suffer.”

“That’s only because we’re down to the weak everlass leaves. As soon as the spring comes it’ll be better, Hannon, you’ll see. I’ll find a cure for him. He won’t join Nana and Mommy in the beyond. He won’t. I will find a cure. It must exist.”

“The only cure is breaking the curse, and no one knows how to do that.”

“Someone knows,” I said softly, opening Father’s door. “Someone in this goddess-ruined kingdom knows how to break that curse. I will find that person, and I will wring the truth out of them.”

A candle in a holder flickered on the table by the door. I picked it up and shielded the flame from the air as I hurried to Father’s side. Two chairs bracketed each side of the bed, always present. Sometimes we used them to gather around him when he was lucid. Lately, though, they were used for vigils, so we could watch with trepidation as he clung to life.

My father’s lined face was ashen within the candlelight. His eyelids trembled as though he were trapped in a nightmare.

He was, I supposed. We all were. The whole kingdom. Our mad king had used the demon king’s sly magic to settle a personal grudge, and we were all suffering the consequences. Actually, he wasn’t. He’d died and left us to rot. What a peach. They hadn’t said what he’d died from, but I hoped it was gangrene of the dick.

I set the candle on the bedside table before checking the fireplace at the other end of the room. The coals throbbed crimson then black, giving off enough heat to warm the kettle of water above it. We never knew when we’d need hot water. Given the curse had wiped out modern-day conveniences like electricity and running water, almost plunging us back into the Dark Ages, we needed to make do with what we had.

“Dash says we hardly have any usable leaves left, and the crop you planted isn’t ready yet,” Hannon said.

“I didn’t plant— Never mind.” I didn’t bother explaining that the everlass would spring up naturally every year if you coaxed it with good soil and rigorous maintenance. Hannon wasn’t much of a gardener. “Dash shouldn’t be telling stories.”

Dash was the youngest, a boy of eleven who moved more than he listened…except when he was listening to me mutter to myself, it seemed. I hadn’t realized he’d overheard me.

“I’m good with plants and gardening, but I’m not a stem witch, Hannon. It’s a hobby, not magic. It might not get ball-chillingly cold here, but it’s cold enough to stunt plant growth. I just need a little sun. I keep asking the goddess, but she clearly does not give a crap about us. Divine, my arse. Maybe we should go back to the old ways of our ancestors. They worshipped a bunch of gods sitting on a mountain or whatever. Maybe one of them would listen.”

“You read too much.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“You daydream too much, then.”

I shrugged. “That is probably true.”

My medicinal station waited in the corner, herbs and a mortar and pestle set on a wooden tray. The two measly leaves in the ceramic bowl had already been dried in the dying light of the evening sun.

Very poetic, this particular healing recipe. Bone-chillingly poetic. It had taken a lot of reading and trial and error to figure out what worked best, and I wasn’t finished. I was sure the demon king was laughing at me somewhere. At all of us. He was the bastard who’d taken the king’s gold and worked up the bullshit curse that currently plagued our land, after all. His minions had been stationed in the kingdom to watch us struggle. Too bad they weren’t rotting beneath the ground with the late king. They deserved to be, dickfaced rat fuckers.

“What was that?” Hannon asked, his temperament far sweeter than mine, though that wasn’t much of an accomplishment. I’d set the bar pretty low.

“Nothing,” I murmured. It wasn’t ladylike to swear, or so the people of our antiquated village always reminded me. It was equally unladylike to flip them off after they scowled at me. Very uptight, this village, and without two coppers to rub together, the lot of us.

My father convulsed, spasming with each wet cough.

Hands shaking, fighting to remain calm, I crushed the leaves with the pestle. A pungent aroma, like ripe cheese mixed with garlic, blasted my senses. They might be small leaves, but they were full of healing magic.

My father lunged toward the side of the bed.

Hannon was there in a moment, sitting beside him and bringing up the bucket from the floor. He helped Father lean over the lip and retch. There’d be blood in that throw-up, I well knew.

“Focus,” I told myself softly, shaking two drops of rainwater off my fingertip and onto the crushed leaves. I’d collected those in the dead of night. That seemed to work best.

That done, I sprinkled in the other herbs, which were much easier to come by—a sprig of rosemary, one leaf of dill, a splash of cinnamon. And, finally, the ingredient that was almost as important as the everlass—the full, healthy petal of one red rose.

It had to be red, too. The others didn’t work nearly so well. I had no idea what red roses had to do with this curse or the demons, but the effects of that ingredient increased the potency of the elixir tenfold. It made me think there were one or two more ingredients out there that I hadn’t tried yet that would act as a cure. A long-term cure where we didn’t need more and more draught just to see the same effects. Something that would null the sickness altogether. If it was out there, I’d find it. Hopefully in time to save Father.

Father’s groan spurred me on. A rattled breath struggled through his tightened throat. At least he had a strong heart. A heart attack had taken Mother a year ago. Her body had been under too much pressure, and her heart gave up the fight. I hadn’t been as good at the nulling elixir then. Father had more time.

He has to have more time.

“Honestly, Dash is right. We need more supplies,” I said, working the pestle. “Our plants aren’t enough.”

“I thought you said yesterday that no one else had any left either?”

“Not that they are willing to spare, no.”

Everyone had ailing parents and maybe one or two ailing grandparents, if they were lucky. Our resources were tapped.

“Well then, where are you…” He let the words drift away. “No.”

“I don’t have much choice, Hannon. Besides, I’ve been in and out of that field a bunch of times over the last few years with no problems. At night, even. The beast probably doesn’t patrol the Forbidden Wood anymore.”

My hands started to shake, and I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. Lying to Hannon was one thing—he was a trusting soul and wanted to believe me—but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe my own lies. Just because I hadn’t seen the beast in any visits since the first, that did not mean he’d given up hunting trespassers. Our village was at the edge of the kingdom, and I was sneaky. I took great pains to ensure I wasn’t seen. I heard the roars, though. He was out there, waiting. Watching. The ultimate predator.

The beast wasn’t the only danger in the wood, either. Terrible creatures had been set loose by the curse, and unlike the beast, they didn’t seem to be hindered by the tree line. They used to burst out of the Forbidden Wood and eat any villagers out after dark. Occasionally they’d barge through a front door as well, and eat villagers out of their homes.

It hadn’t happened in a long time. None of us understood why they’d left us be, but they were still in the wood. I’d heard their roars, too. That place was a clusterfuck of danger.

“It’s fine,” I reaffirmed, even though he hadn’t rebuffed me vocally. “The everlass field is close. I’ll just nip in really quickly, grab what I need, and get out. I have a great sense of direction in that place. In and out.”

“Except it is two days until the full moon.”

“That’ll just help me see better.”

“It’ll also increase the beast’s power. He’ll smell better. Run faster. Chomp harder.”

“I don’t think a soft chomp would be any better than a hard one, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be quick. I know the way.”

“You shouldn’t know the way.”

But from the way he said it, I knew Hannon was giving up the fight. He didn’t have any more steam to talk me out of going. I kind of hoped he’d try harder.

I grimaced when I’d meant to smile, and my stomach started to churn. I did need to go. And I hadgone a bunch these last few years and come back safely.

I’d hated it every time.

“When?” Hannon asked somberly.

“The leaves are the most potent when harvested at night,” I said, “and we are on borrowed time, like you said. No time like the present.”

“Are you absolutely sure you need to go?”

I let my shoulders sag for a moment. “Yes.”

 

***

 

An hour later, I stood in the front room with a tweed crossbody bag draped across my sternum. The plant seemed to respond best when carried in this type of bag. I’d gotten the tip from a book and proven the theory with trial and error.

My brothers and sister stood with me.

“Be careful.” Hannon squeezed my shoulders, looking down into my eyes.

Standing about three inches taller than my six feet, he was the tallest man in our village. One of the strongest, too, with large arms and a thick frame. Most would assume he would be the one risking his life in the beast’s haunt. Or the one hunting for our dinner in the safer forest to the east. But no, Hannon was the guy who wrung his hands and waited at home to patch me up when I came bleeding through the door. Good thing, too, because I’d limped in on more than one occasion. Those damned wild boars in the east forest made an art of mauling. Vicious fuckers.

The beast was another situation altogether.

Courage.

A night bird cried a warning in the distance. The cottages around us on the dirt lane squatted in silence, their inhabitants asleep at this time of night. Asleep, or sitting quietly in their darkened homes, not wanting to draw the notice of anything that might’ve slunk through the tree line. It might not have happened in years, but people around here had long memories.

“Don’t take any chances,” Hannon said. “If you see the beast, get out of there.”

“If I see the beast, I’ll probably piss myself.”

“Fine. But do it as you’re running.”

Sage advice.

“It’s fine, Hannon. I took the smell-masking elixir. That usually works when I’m hunting. It’ll help.”

He nodded, but the pep talk apparently wasn’t done. “There is only one beast,” he said. “That’s the main concern. You’ve confronted the other creatures in that wood and come out swinging.”

Not exactly, but as I said, Hannon was a trusting soul. He didn’t seem to know when I was lying. If he thought I was tougher than I was, he’d worry less. Who was that hurting?

I turned and gave Sable a fierce hug, kissing her on the head. Dash was next, and then I had to peel him away.

“Let me go, too,” Dash begged. “I know where it is. I can help collect more. I can fight off the monsters!”

“How…” I stopped myself. Now was not the time to shout at my younger brother. I pointed at Hannon instead. “While I’m gone, find out how he knows where the field is. Wait to punish him until I get back. I want to be in on it.”

I gave Hannon one last hug and quickly set off. I could do this. I had to do this.

My bow had been broken last week by one of those bastard boars, so I was going in with nothing but the dagger and the pocketknife tucked into my trousers. Neither weapon would do a whole helluva lot against the beast. Then again, if the beast really did have scaled armor, the ten arrows I owned wouldn’t do much to protect me, either.

I cut through the back gardens of two cottages, scaling the fences, and approached the edge of the Forbidden Wood. A patch of goat-trimmed land was all that separated me from it. Weeds crawled toward the perimeter…and then wilted and died. Ghostly trunks rose on the edge, twisted branches reaching for the village. Beyond lay shadowy depths, sliced through with moonlight under the star-flecked sky.

I cleared my mind of the stakes. Pushed away the image of Father’s sickbed. Tossed aside the worry in Hannon’s eyes and the feel of Sable and Dash clinging to me when I hugged them goodbye, hopefully not for the last time. Right now, it was just me and these woods. Me and the creatures that lurked within their deteriorating depths. Me and the beast, if it came to it.

I would not let my father down. I would not fail him.

The edge of my dagger slid against the hard leather of its sheath hanging from my hip. I stepped lightly and carefully, aiming for springing ground and avoiding anything that might snap or crinkle. It was easy now, still in the village. Once I passed that tree line, it would be a whole lot harder. A whole lot deadlier.

Not a sound vibrated through the air. No wind stirred the frostbitten branches or boughs. My breath puffed white. I noticed every little detail of my surroundings. I was the prey, and I did not want to tango with the hunter.

The air cooled as I crossed the threshold. I stilled and took a deep breath. Panic would get me dead. I needed to keep a level head.

Onward I went with watchful eyes. I needed to pay attention to any movement. Any change in scent or sound.

I remembered a time, before the curse, when the Forbidden Wood had been lovely. Green and lush. Now, though, the brittle grasses crackled under my worn boots. The bark felt flaky under my fingers. No leaves graced the branches, even of the evergreen trees, and no flowers adorned the winter budding plants.

Up ahead, around a large pine scantily clad with needles, I spotted it—a birch that didn’t seem to fit in with its peers. Just behind it was my destination.

The everlass field had been less than half its current size when I first found it. It had grown over the years, not that it really mattered. I could only use what I could steal, and I didn’t dare do that often.

Crack.

Adrenaline dumped into my bloodstream. I froze with my hands out like an idiot, as though ready for actual flight. I might have courage, but I clearly wasn’t cool when handling danger.

That had sounded like a twig snapping.

With bated breath, I waited for something to happen. Then waited some more—watching for movement, listening for sounds. Nothing.

Letting out a shaky breath, I continued on. The shapes of trees shifted around me, crawling across the star-speckled blackness above. A creature shrieked distantly on my left. The sound spread through the air before trailing away, like ripples in a pond. My heart sped up, but the sound was too far away to worry me at the moment. Hopefully the creature would keep screeching so I could track its travel route.

A horrible scream rent the air, also distant. It sounded like a human in peril, being eaten alive or gruesomely tortured, or a man with a paper cut on his finger. It was intense distress, in other words, needing help immediately, or death might ensue.

Nice try, fucker.

I’d heard that creature before. I’d actually even seen it as I was panic-sprinting home one time. Its goal was to lure do-gooders. People came to help, and it killed them.

Or that was how it clearly thought its ruse would go. Except all knew that in the Forbidden Wood, it was everyone for themselves. There were no do-gooders here. That thing could go on screaming for all I cared. That would at least prevent it from sneaking up on me.

The birch was close now, rising stoically.

Its branches shivered dramatically, as though it were cold.

I froze again, and suddenly wondered why I always shoved my arms out like some sort of confused dancer when I freaked out…

But seriously, why in the goddess’s secret cupboard was the tree shivering? That hadn’t happened before. I’d passed this tree every time I came to this field, and it had never moved because of anything but the wind.

This is a shit time for a tree to be doing the jig, folks, I thought to the invisible audience watching my adventure. It was something I’d been doing since I was little, and I hadn’t given up the habit at twenty-three. Back in the day I’d done it because I was pretending to be a jester or a queen, but now I did it out of comfort. And eccentricity, I supposed.

Let’s keep our heads here, everybody. Things are getting a bit strange.

I gave the shivering birch a wider berth, thankful when it stopped moving. The night fell quiet once again, the screaming imposter taking a break for a moment. The field lay before me, coated in moonlight.

I scanned the area beyond the clearing. Nothing moved. No other trees shivered.

A backward glance—with narrowed eyes at that birch—and all was equally clear. No bodily warnings of danger approaching, no feeling of eyes on me. It was now or never.

Dagger back in its holster and pocketknife at the ready, I scanned the plants as I carefully made my way through them. Most herbalists would call them weeds. But most herbalists were faeries, and they stuck their noses up at plants they couldn’t grow. Or so people said. No one in the village had seen one for sixteen years.

Of course, that didn’t stop the faeries from seeking them out. Everlass was the most potent healer in all the kingdoms. And guess what? It only grew in lands ruled or maintained by dragon shifters. Suck on that, faeries.

Even though this kingdom was basically in stewardship of the demon king because of the curse, it still had the magic of the dragons. Most of the nobility had been killed soon after the mad king perished, but the everlass remained unscathed. All we had to do was learn to work with it.

I’d always thought it was romantic. Without the presence of dragons, the everlass wouldn’t sprout from the soil. It was like the protective dragon magic infused the very fibers of the ground we walked on and gave the everlass courage to take the leap.

This plant was regal. Regal meaning incredibly fussy and hard to work with. If you were too rough or hasty in your ministrations, it would shrivel and reduce in potency. It demanded focused and careful attention, if not love.

And I did love it. Why wouldn’t I? It was saving my village.

I freed only the largest and healthiest of the leaves, being careful not to upset the seed pods that would ensure new life when the time came. As I went, I pruned any dead or dying leaves, of which there were very few.

I tucked the leaves into my sack, allowing them room. It wasn’t good to bunch them together so soon after harvesting. They worked better when they had a little space to breathe, like the plants themselves. If I didn’t have to worry about being chased, attacked, and eaten, I’d carry the leaves home in a big tray, none of them touching their neighbor.

When my bag was full, I straightened up and swept my gaze over the field. I wondered how many other people snuck into this place to use it. I’d never seen anyone else, but the plants were properly pruned and managed. That spoke of a group of caring, knowledgeable people, probably from the other villages. I’d seen what happened to the plants of my neighbors who didn’t do their due diligence. They grew wild and unruly.

I wasn’t the only one who showered these plants with love. Not surprising, but still, it warmed my heart. I hoped the other villages were at least faring as well as we were.

A whinnying owl call startled me out of my reverie. I pinched my face, listening. It was off to the side, decently close. That wasn’t startling in itself—it sounded pissed off, but it could just be mad at its mate or another bird. Maybe it had noticed a little critter making its way across the ground or something, I didn’t know. I wasn’t an owl behavioral expert. No, what was startling was that it was the first time I’d heard that sort of owl in the Forbidden Wood.

A shivering birch, and now an owl. What was going on tonight?

Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

Be quiet now, everyone. If we’re sneaky-sneaky, no one will bother us.

I pivoted where I stood and put on a burst of speed, still picking my way through the plants with care but doing it as fast as I possibly could.

A soft chuff caught my attention and flooded me with a fearful chill. My flight reflex very nearly had me hiking up my pants and sprinting through the wood like some sort of hobgoblin.

Was it the beast? Something else? Maybe it didn’t matter. The sound had come from a larger animal, and anything that large in this wood was a predator of some kind.

I let my breath out very slowly. The animal was southwest of me, in the same direction as the owl’s outburst, but closer.

I looked down at the pocketknife clutched in my shaking hand. That weapon was not going to cut it.

Damn it, now I was thinking in dad jokes.

Straining my eyes, I watched for movement as I grabbed the blade to fold it away. Watched to see if anything interrupted the shards of soft moonlight piercing the shadows. The still night didn’t reveal its secrets.

Courage now, folks. Everyone remain calm.

I turned slowly toward home, carefully lowering my feet one at a time. I didn’t want my feet to slide on the crusty dirt. Breathing slowly helped, too. I needed air to fuel my brain and my muscles. I needed to think or run, or both simultaneously. Blind terror never helped anyone.

My pocketknife made a snick sound as I closed it and the blade lodged home. I paused, gritting my teeth. Silence reverberated around me…until a wail rang out, like an old woman grieving over the lost. Loud and low and full of bitter agony.

I jumped. My pocketknife tumbled from my fingers.

Fuck! I dropped the fucking knife. Hold on to your dicks, folks, this is about to get hairy.

Another cry, this time like an infant. It rattled my senses as the knife hit the ground in multiple thumps.

This new creature’s sounds came from the north. Directly north. Fifty yards, maybe, possibly a bit more.

Loud grunts followed. Hunka, hunka, hunka.

Same direction, similar distance. It was obviously the creature from a moment ago, some sort of mockingbird of terror. What the grunts were supposed to attract, I did not know or care.

I bent in a rush, trying to peer through the deep shadows to find my knife, and then ran my fingers against the ground, searching. Dried grasses brushed my palm.

Another owl blasted its warning— or maybe the same owl? I didn’t know. Were they tenacious fuckers who followed trespassers like grumpy old men? I needed to look that up. Regardless, its call was much closer this time. Thirty yards, maybe less. Southwest, in the direction of the large predator.

Fuck the pocketknife.

I straightened up swiftly, adjusted the sack of leaves, and put on a burst of speed around the birch. It shivered like it had on the way in. This time, though, the movement seemed more intense. The leaves clattered together like dancing skeletons. Branches creaked, waving in the absence of wind.

What in the double fuck was up with that tree? Had I cut down its cousin or something?

The mockingbird of terror abruptly stopped its grunting. It had heard me. It knew something was here.

That goddess-damned birch would join its cousin if I had any say. I’d dance naked around the flames.

Swallowing a swear, I hurried forward to put some distance between me and the freaking-out flora. A patch of brittle grass between two thick trunks awaited me ahead, and I slowed. My vision had narrowed to directly in front of me, and my heart pounded adrenaline through my body, signs of the flight reflex. I slowed further and sucked in a breath. I could not blindly run. I could not. I had to think this through. I had to be smart.

The falling knife hadn’t been that loud. The creatures in the area didn’t know I was here. They only knew that the birch was a diva cuntface looking for attention. And even if they did know there was a trespasser in their midst, they wouldn’t be able to track me. My scent was hidden due to the hand-crafted herbal brew I’d drunk before leaving the house, and the ground was too hard for my feet to make distinct tracks in the darkness. Right now, I was still an unknown.

I eyed the grass ahead while listening. The birch finally settled down, leaving a gaping absence of sound in its wake. No movement caught my ear. No screeches.

My chest felt tight, strained with the pressure of staying calm. I focused on my breathing and started moving slowly forward again, easing the dagger from its sheath as I did so. The grass issued some light crackles before I met hard dirt again, only cut through with patches of dead grass. I barely stopped myself from heaving a loud sigh.

An owl screeched overhead.

I jerked and jumped at the same time. The blade of my dagger thudded uselessly off the tree trunk to my left. The owl called its warning again, and I wished I had my bow so I could shut that thing up right now. Get off my lawn, owl!

The old woman’s wail sounded again, slicing through me. Northeast, tracking me.

I moved faster now, careful with my footfalls. I had about a hundred yards to go to get out of this place. Maybe a bit more. Not very far in the scheme of things, but how fast could that creature run? I was fast, but it was almost certainly faster. And the village border only meant something to the beast. Crossing the boundary line wouldn’t be enough to escape this creature. I’d need to get inside my house and lock the door. That was plenty of distance for it to catch me.

Walking would be a lot slower and not much quieter. The alternative to walking was to stand my ground with a half-starved body from years of barely getting by and a medium-sized, somewhat dull dagger. Nice odds.

A strange feeling rolled through my chest, like a heavy weight turning over. Shortly afterward, a shock of fire coursed through me, and I couldn’t help sucking in a startled breath.

It felt…wonderful. Fucking amazing, actually. The heat, the power, and the…desire?

Oh shit. Incubus. I hadn’t taken the draught to stop a demon’s lust magic because I hadn’t thought there’d be any in the Forbidden Wood. But why wouldn’t there be? They got a free pass all over the kingdom. My not having seen them in here before meant very little.

Thankfully, they weren’t dangerous enough to give me pause.

Grip tight on the dagger handle, I pushed through the pounding in my core and kept moving. Ignored the sudden explosion of wetness between my thighs, sending shooting sparks of delight every time my upper legs gave even a glimmer of friction. And what was that smell? Balmy and spicy and delicious. Fuck, that smelled good.

The sound of a wailing baby tore through the night air, desperately close, twenty yards or so to my left. The mockingbird of terror had moved in my direction on a diagonal. Somehow it was tracking me without being able to smell or see me.

Or maybe my smell-blindness elixir didn’t work as well as I’d thought…

I looked upward, thinking about climbing. It would be a struggle to reach the nearest branches. I doubted I could do it quickly or quietly, and even if I managed it, what if the creature could fly? It would be on me in a heartbeat.

Running might be my only option.

Before I could, the strange weight in my chest lurched. Lava spilled out and dripped down to my sodden core. I couldn’t stop a moan as an intimate presence feathered across my skin, as though someone were physically touching me with silky fingers.

My breathing turned ragged as I desperately tried to shut the feeling out.

It was…incredible, though. The best fucking thing I’d ever felt. Primal, almost, reaching down into the very center of me and pulling out a raw hunger I didn’t want to shy away from. Desperate desires flitted through my head, of touching, of tangled bodies, of the taste of a hard cock sliding into my mouth.

Fuck me, this incubus was a strong motherfucker. I’d never felt something like this before.

I had to push past it. I had to ignore the sudden, brain-fogging desire to drop down right now and spread my legs, begging to be taken. To be dominated.

When the fuck did a girl like me want to be dominated?

Right fucking now, that was when.

This was not how I got out of this wood alive. This was not real.

It certainly felt fucking real, though. This wasn’t like the demons in the village, who had a sort of oily presence in their lustful magic. This felt like a piece of me…a secret piece of me…exposed.

Fuck. Not good. I had to shut it out!

Keep moving, I urged myself. Keep going. You’re stronger than this. Resist!

I pushed forward again, stumbling like a drunk. How was I going to fight the mockingbird of terror in this state? Was the incubus working with it? If not, it needed to show itself so I could kill it really quickly and move on.

The seam of my pants rubbing against my slick sex nearly undid me. My hard nipples rubbed against the coarse binding surrounding them, which was suddenly not nearly tight enough. My quickened breath was not because of my fast walk.

This was so fucked up. I could barely focus on my extreme panic.

A low growl sliced through every band of pleasure wrapping around my body, and the desire fell away like cut ribbons. In its place, cold terror once again reigned.

I jerked to a stop, dagger up, eyes as big as the moon. The baritone rumbling continued, freezing my blood.

I turned my head slowly toward the sound on my right.

Shadow lined the rough grooves of bark on the large tree. Moonlight carved through the darkness beside it. I didn’t hear or see a damn thing. For a few solid moments, nothing in the whole wood seemed to move.

A shape popped out from the left, the opposite direction from where I’d been looking. The leathery body was bent over on two stout legs, its head still cresting mine by about four feet. Small arms and little hands reached forward as its huge mouth gaped open. I’d half expected something like a bird. Not the case. Two rows of teeth dripped with saliva.

It lunged at me, intent on snapping my face between its jaws.

Chapter 2

I dodged and prepared to strike, but I didn’t get the chance.

A huge form blasted out from the space between the two trunks to my right.

I cried out and fell backward, my dagger falling uselessly from my hand. The form moved so fast that it was nearly a blur. I barely saw the hulking frame, its shoulders well above my head, and the enormous legs ending in six-inch claws. Darkness slid across it as though they were old friends.

A picture out of my nightmares.

The beast.

A fierce growl was all the warning the mockingbird of terror got before the beast plowed into it and took it back the way it had come. I didn’t get a chance to see the beast’s head. I did watch its tail slide across the ground, though, the spikes on the end whipping in the opposite direction.

A high-pitched squeal of agony accompanied the wet, gloppy sounds of teeth tearing through flesh. Fire raged through my body, but thankfully, the desire was long gone.

Not one to waste good fortune, I grabbed my dagger and jumped up. A moment later, I was running with everything I had. Ripping through bushes and ducking under branches, I didn’t stick to any kind of path. I didn’t care if I could be tracked or heard. I doubted anyone would chase a scrappy little shifter who couldn’t shift, not with the monstrous melee going on behind me.

I burst out across the Forbidden Wood’s boundary and raced around the village the long way to my house. It would be faster if I didn’t have to worry about jumping fences.

I stomped up my steps and barged through the door. Before I could catch my breath, I turned and slammed the door shut behind me. I yanked the heavy timber at the side in place across the door, securing us in.

Hannon pushed up from the couch, his eyes anxious. Seeing me with my back against the door, panting, he hurried to the little window overlooking the porch, grabbing the interior wood shutters to block it off.

“No,” I panted, my chest still heaving. I unslung the pack with everlass and straightened it out. I didn’t want my nearly deadly trip to have been in vain. “Leave it.”

He paused with the shutters halfway closed. Without a word, he slowly pushed them back before peering out into the night.

“You saw it,” he said softly.

Straightening up, I gulped air and shook my head. “No. I mean…” I licked my lips, utterly parched.

Without a word, he moved toward the kitchen. After years of nursing our parents, he didn’t need to be told what a person needed.

“Kinda. I saw a huge shape. A body. And a tail. And the foot. The foot. It had to have been the beast.”

“How close was it?”

He shouldn’t be asking that. He never asked how close my close calls were. That kept me from having to lie.

This time, though, I didn’t feel like covering up what had happened.

I told him everything, from the shaking birch, to the weird, territorial owl, to the strong incubus that never materialized, to the strange escape.

“I don’t think it was coming after me,” I finally said, having moved to the couch and finished two cups of water. “I mean…at first it obviously was. It stalked me. So did that other creature—”

“How?” Hannon asked, sitting in the wooden chair opposite me. He’d made it.

“All the noise around me, I guess, I don’t know. The birch and then the owl. Or maybe the draught to deaden smell didn’t work? It’s not like I have ever properly tested it in the Forbidden Wood. I’ve only ever tested it in the forests to the south and east, on real animals in natural habitats, not on demon creatures in an evil ecosystem. The magic in the Forbidden Wood is twisted.”

“Well.” Hannon rubbed his face. “I’m going to bed. Father is sleeping peacefully right now. The elixir earlier really helped. Maybe he’ll be lucid tomorrow.”

I nodded and stayed put for a moment. I’d need to dote on the everlass leaves tonight if they were going to work for me. I had to nestle them into their drying tray and sprinkle them with water to keep them fresh until they could be dried in tomorrow’s dying sun. Very high-maintenance, those leaves. But if you treated them well, they kept your loved ones alive.

For a moment, though, I just wanted to sit and unwind. There were still so many questions to ponder, like what the fuck was up with that birch tree? And where had that owl come from and what was its problem? Most importantly, though, what had happened with the incubus? I highly doubted the mockingbird of terror could turn a person on. It had its thing, and sexy-time was not it. Neither did I think the beast moonlighted as a sex god. I would’ve heard about that. So what was affecting me like a filthy good time, and was it still out there? Because incubi had no problem wandering into the village and taking what they wanted. Sure, they might usually be easy to ignore, but this one was something else.

 

***

 

Late the next morning, I held out my mug for a specially made tea in our homely kitchen. Coffee was a thing of the past, new supplies lost to us when the curse went into effect. Coffee beans were grown in a few kingdoms, not to mention the human realm beyond the magical veil, but we weren’t one of them. When my parents had been plagued with headaches after the supply ran out, I devised a mixture to calm the ache and still give a little kick to start the morning. It had done the trick, and now I looked forward to it.

Hannon pulled the pot off the hook hanging over the fire and tilted it. A tiny bit of life-saving draught filled my mug.

“Try again,” I said with a yawn, keeping my mug in the air.

“We’re out. I indulged a little too much last night when you were getting chased by beasts around the wood. I still slept like a baby when you got back, though.” He grinned at me.

I scowled, took a sip, and leaned against the clean but chipped stone countertop. “Whose turn is it to go to the marketplace today?”

“Yours, thank the lovely goddess.”

“What’s up with you?” I looked at him over the lip of my mug as he went about kneading bread. He was the useful one in our family. He’d essentially taken over for Mom, cooking and sewing and woodworking and doing all kinds of other handy stuff—he was the master of all trades. My abilities were limited to healing, hunting, fishing, gardening, and narrowly escaping the beast of the Forbidden Wood. It was partially why I needed to take all the risks. This family could not survive without Hannon. Not even for a little while.

He rolled his eyes and stopped his kneading for a moment. “Daphne.”

I felt a grin creep up my tired face. “We all need admirers.”

“Yeah, well…” He shook his head and went back to his task. After a moment, he spilled his guts. “She knows I had my twenty-fifth birthday last month.”

My grin widened. “Prime mating age, yes. Go on.”

“She has something she wants to ask me.”

“No…” I pushed forward gleefully. “Is she going to propose?”

“Women don’t propose, Finley. I think she wants to ask me to propose to her, though. She’s not been subtle about her…desires.”

I could feel my toothy grin. Hannon was not like most guys in our spit-wad of a village. He didn’t chase skirts and visit the pubs after dark to fornicate with succubi. He liked to get to know a lady before progressing to the next level. Because of that and his stout frame and gingerific good looks, he did seem to get to the next level (banging) every time he put the effort in. He just didn’t put the effort in very much.

And that drove the ladies wild.

“Women aren’t supposed to hunt, either. Or wear ill-fitting men’s trousers. Yet here I am…”

“You’re different.”

“You just think that because I’m your sister. Boys aren’t supposed to cook and look after their families, and yet you excel at that better than most women. Maybe she’s your true mate.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. True mates aren’t possible.”

“You know what I mean.” I recited it as if to a dunce. “Maybe she’d be your true mate if the curse hadn’t suppressed all our animals, and we could actually function like real shifters.”

He paused for a moment. “I don’t think true mates ever existed. I’ve read the histories, same as you, and none of them confirm they’re real.”

“First of all, our library is small and limited, and before the curse, people weren’t looking to learn about their shifter traits from books. They learned about that from their peers. So it makes sense that we wouldn’t have many volumes on shifter functionality. I know that because I whined about it, and that’s what I was told. Second, those that are carried are histories focused on the nobles and kings and queens and important people. They marry for money and power. They don’t give a shit about love. Common people like us have a better chance at finding our true mate.”

I didn’t actually believe that, but I loved to play devil’s advocate. I knew for a fact that my brother did wish to meet his true mate. That he would honor his animal’s choice (should he ever meet his animal, locked inside of him), and mate her as nature intended.

I, myself, did not believe in destined anything. I wasn’t the type to allow anyone to push me around, even if it was my own primal side doing the pushing. Nor did I give a crap about love and mating. Not anymore. Not since I’d gotten my heart ripped out and stomped on two years ago. My ex had dumped me and then quickly gone on to mate a toothy girl dedicated to needlepoint and looking after him.

His reasoning for the breakup? He needed someone ready and able to run a house. He wanted a “proper” wife.

Apparently in his eyes, and in the eyes of most of the people in the village, a proper wife didn’t hunt better than her husband, or at all. She didn’t tan hides, play with knives, and wear trousers. Nor did she look after villagers ailing from the curse’s sickness more than she would tend to her husband’s less-than-dire needs. This was because she would’ve (apparently incorrectly) assumed her husband was an adult and didn’t need a nursemaid to wipe his mouth and assure him he was the master of the universe. Silly her.

Clearly I would be single forever. It really wasn’t a huge loss, though, given the dickfaces in this village. It was just too bad about the dry spell for the last two years. That wasn’t so easily borne, especially with lust demons wandering around.

“I think true mates are incredibly rare,” Hannon murmured.

“Well, yeah. There is one person in all of the magical world meant for us? And they have to be the same type of shifter, same overall power level, and same general age… Lots of ‘ands.’ But it is doable, or else we wouldn’t have a name for it. Besides, Daphne is very pretty and very willing. I know how you like them curves, too.”

I could see his cheek and ear turn bright crimson. He was very easy to embarrass. I made it my goal to do it at least once a day.

“I’m too young to marry,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, right. That’s not even remotely true, and you know it. Not since the curse. None of us have a long life expectancy anymore—we need to get life rolling. Hell, if that donkey hadn’t dumped me, I might be mated with a bun in the oven right now.”

“Still,” he muttered.

I ignored the pang in my broken heart and tapped the counter. “Do you have a list, or should I guess what we need?”

“We don’t have enough coin for you to guess.”

“This is true. I’m pretty hungry. I go crazy when I shop hungry. Hurry up with that bread.”

He glowered at me, the red in his cheeks just now starting to seep away.

“Oh hey…” He pulled the slip of oddly shaped, overly thick, beige-splotched handmade paper from the edge of the counter and held it out.

We didn’t have normal paper anymore. We couldn’t power the machines to make it. Instead, we either had to make it by hand from wood pulp, plants, and any paper left over from before the curse, or trade for it. Parchment could be made, as well, though that was more expensive and reserved for special situations.

In this house, we received it as a thanks for helping with the everlass or elixir. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.

“About Dash…” Hannon said.

I finished what was in the mug and set it beside the washbasin. I’d completely forgotten about Dash. I’d only managed a couple hours of sleep last night, and anything not relevant to everlass completely slipped my mind.

“Yes, what was that about?” I asked.

Seriousness stole over Hannon’s expression. “One of his friends knows the location of the field. I guess you’re not the only one who uses it occasionally. He took Dash and another friend. I guess the kid goes with his older brother to collect the leaves.”

The blood left my face. “Are they insane? Why would they risk a ten-year-old boy?”

“They go at high noon, I guess. The least dangerous time. They sacrifice the potency of the leaves in the elixir for the safety of the kids.”

I was having a hard time processing this. To risk the children at all. Children! They were all we had. They were the most important resource in this village. It was why Dash and Sable were pampered more than they probably should be. Overprotected. Watched more than was probably healthy. We needed the kids to keep up our numbers, or we were in danger of fading away.

“We have to do a better job of watching him,” I said, mostly talking to myself. “He’s going to get the spanking of his life. I don’t care how old he is. I will put the fear of the Divine Goddess in him so that he never does that again.”

“You were fourteen…”

“Four years older than him, and I was Nana’s only hope. Not that it helped. Dash has no reason to be out there.”

“I know,” he said softly. “We do need to talk with him.”

I let out a breath. “Well. Now we know. And we have plenty of leaves to keep us going until spring. We’re good.”

 

***

 

Not long afterward, I walked down the sunny lane to the little village market in the square. It mostly held produce and trinkets, some furniture, and one or two hides or pelts. We used to have much more, I remembered, back when I was a kid. Travelers would come to our market, bringing their special skills and wares, and the villagers created finer arts and crafts to sell to the outsiders. I used to love wandering by the various stalls, looking at the beautiful hand-blown glass, the fun designs on the needlework, and the art and sculptures. I would help my mother run our booth from time to time, offering some flowers I’d grown or pelts I’d helped Father cure. I’d say hello to the traveling people and watch their juggling on the grass in the square.

But our kingdom had disappeared from the hearts and minds of the magical world. No one could come here even if they wanted to. Worse, no one could leave. Many had tried over the years. Or so I’d heard. I had been too young to witness any of this firsthand.

Some had attempted escape through the communal forests to the east and south of the village. That land technically belonged to the royal family, but it had been allocated for the use of the village. As a result, it had not been directly cursed, like the Forbidden Wood, and no everlass grew there.

Regardless, a group of villagers had set out to leave that way. From what I understood, they made it a certain distance before they could go no farther. The air crystalized before them, scorching those who tried to push past it. Killing those who continued through the pain.

After that, the survivors—desperate, enraged, and frightened—set out for the castle. They carried pitchforks and bows, spears and torches, intent on demanding their freedom.

Not one of them returned.

That very evening, the demon king appeared in the village square. He announced that if anyone set foot in the Forbidden Wood, they would be punished. Steal, and they’d be hanged. Just like in the days of old.

He remained true to his word, or so people said. It was unclear if people were punished, hanged, or eaten by the beast or one of the other creatures, but in those early days, anyone who ventured in never came back.

We were trapped in this lost and forsaken place, shifters unable to shift. Unable to even feel the animals inside of us. Magic mostly kept beyond our fingertips.

It wasn’t as bad for people like me, since I’d never known my animal and didn’t remember much from the old days. I’d never known the primal power and strength and extra abilities that came with shifting. Someone older and more experienced was supposed to guide a young shifter through the change on the first full moon after their sixteenth birthday, but our powers had been suppressed long before my coming of age. I didn’t know what I was missing.

For our elders, it was such a grievous loss that they wouldn’t talk about it anymore. At all. I didn’t know who used to turn into what animal. I didn’t know details of a shifter’s life, or what it felt like to change. I didn’t know much of anything about what I was supposed to be.

I had learned one thing: a demon’s offers always had strings attached. Their sugarcoated words had a sour aftertaste. Whatever deal our mad king had been trying to make, the one he’d eventually accepted damned us all. In suppressing our animals, the demons had also suppressed our ability to heal quickly. Our strength. Our fighting prowess. They’d cut us off at the knees. The nobility had tried to resist after the mad king’s death, but they were cut down. Most of the army went next. Without their ability to shift, they were easy prey. Almost overnight, the kingdom was an island, all six villages and the castle at the center cut off from the outside world and at the mercy of the demons. What a wonderful life.

I remembered the onslaught of emotions I’d felt back then. The horror, anger, sadness, and desperation, but I was young. I learned how to adapt. I learned purpose. A purpose I still felt. A fight I would not give up until the day I died.

This would be my life until I went out screaming. And if people would just leave me alone, I could get on with it.

“Hello, Phyl,” I said as the blacksmith walked toward me with a large hammer in his massive hand. He was the only man in the village who had never batted an eye about my love of sharp things.

He nodded with a smile, showing a large gap between his front teeth. “Well, hello, Finley. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Very nice,” I said, heading for the village center.

Devious Rita grinned at me from over the wooden counter in the tomato stall. “Well, hello, Miss Finley. Bed any demons lately? I hear the demon king likes virgins in particular.”

“Oh yeah? Dang. I’m not a virgin. Unless assholes count?”

She laughed and packed up a few tomatoes and some lettuce. “Probably. Did I tell you? I saw Patsy Baker getting spit-roasted the other evening. That’s when one is taking her from the rear, and one is taking her from the front.”

Devious Rita liked to make the young people blush. She had a field day with Hannon. I was much harder to rile up, but I appreciated her efforts. It was another side effect of being trapped here—some people had just gotten…weird. I’d learned to just roll with it.

“That right? Was she having a nice time?”

“Until she was squirted in the eye. That’s when—”

“I know what that means, yeah. No need to elaborate.”

“I heard the demon king snuck into little Dalia Foster’s room the other night and plucked her cherry. She’s expecting his child.”

“Gross. I hate that expression.”

Her grin was wicked.

I didn’t mention that “little” Dalia Foster was nearly my age and didn’t have any fruit left to offer…from any of her orifices. She’d experienced physical intimacy early, I’d heard, and experimented heavily. Apparently, the birth-nulling tea had failed her. But at least she had a good excuse to tell her overbearing father.

Devious Rita tied the bag and handed it over.

“And when will it be your turn?” she asked, her gaze dipping to my flat stomach. “You’re a pretty girl. Maybe the demon king will make an exception for you and sneak in your window. I hear he’s an excellent lover.”

“Oh yeah? Even with a knife in his gut? Because that’s exactly what would happen if he tried to climb into my room.”

She was talking rubbish, obviously. This village had seen the demon king exactly once, from what I had heard, and that was when he warned everyone to stick to the village or face death. He hadn’t been interested in the women then, and he wouldn’t be now. Not women from here, at any rate. We had always been the poorest village in the kingdom. He was also rumored to hate shifters. No, there would be no visits from the demon king in this place.

“If not him, then I guess you’ll be happy to hear that a certain someone has decided to finally take a wife…”

Cold ran through my middle.

She had to mean Jedrek. Ugh!

He’d been after me since I was sixteen, wanting nothing more than to get in my pants. After the string of rejections, he’d decided he didn’t just want a lay, he wanted to mate.

Delusion was strong with that one.

“You’re joking,” I said. This was all I needed. He was a tenacious fucker when he wanted something.

Her smile was cunning. “Not at all. I hear he was looking for you earlier. Very handsome, that Jedrek, isn’t he? And quite the hunter. He owns his own home, and his wife will want for nothing.”

“Except affection, her own free will, orgasms she didn’t facilitate herself…”

“Oh look, he’s coming now—”

I turned quickly and hurried down the way. Rita’s cackles followed me past the line of stalls. I needed to cut this trip short before he saw me—

“Finley!”

Too late. Dammit!

Jedrek stalked up to me with the swagger of a champion, his thick arms swinging, his chin held high, and his shining black hair catching the sun. More than one woman turned to look, appreciating the view.

This dipshit had somehow beaten Hannon out for the questionable distinction of most eligible bachelor. Sure, he was handsome. And yes, he did have a house and viable income, but that was only because he hadn’t done a damn thing to help his parents survive the sickness. Hannon could have those things too if he fucked his family out in the street and let Father succumb to the sickness. He wasn’t a weasel-faced fucker, though. That was the difference.

“Jedrek, hey,” I said, looking at my list so he got the hint that I was busy.

“You’re looking ravishing today.” He gave me an appreciative pat-down with his eyeballs.

“Awesome. I was just grabbing a few things—”

“Did you hear?” He slid his hand through his hair, flexing his bicep as he did so.

“Your ego is so heavy you stoop when you walk?”

“It’s time for me to take a wife. I have a nice little nest egg and plenty of room for a nursery.” His gaze lowered to my hips.

Was he checking out my birthing hips?

“Well, good luck with that.” I smiled with entirely too many teeth and tried to duck around him.

“Now, Finley, we both know we’re the match of the village.” He adjusted his britches, looking around at our audience. Apparently everyone had known this was coming but me. Super.

“And why would I know that, Jedrek?” I adjusted my sack so it covered more of my person.

He gave a flawless smile as he stepped a little closer. “Because we are the most desirable people in this village. It’s only natural that we mate.”

“Beauty fades, Jedrek. But faults remain, and I pride myself on having a lot of faults.”

His booming laugh didn’t fit my comment. “Nonsense, Finley. You will give me strong heirs with which to carry on my line.”

“Oh good. For a second there, I thought it was going to be all about you.”

He turned and slid his arm around my shoulders. “We will have the grandest wedding. A plate of meat for everyone. You wouldn’t want to deny the village of a celebration, do you?”

Those within earshot, which was a number growing by the minute, perked up.

Fantastic, he was playing the guilt angle. How low was that? If I said no, I’d be the bad guy. That would make for a very pleasant rest of my life…

“I’ll have to think on it,” I said, wriggling away.

He grabbed my arm and whipped me around. I sucked in a startled breath as he leaned in closer, his eyes blazing. “You will marry me, Finley. I’ve made it clear in the village that you are my intended. No one else will touch you. I will have you.”

His double meaning flashed in his eyes, his lust plain.

I kept the disgust from my face. He’d drawn an audience. I’d give them a show.

I increased the wattage of my voice.

“Who has two fingers, a thumb, and nightly orgasms? This girl. I wouldn’t want to give that up for a boring ride on your tiny dick. Go peddle your shit somewhere else. This pail is full to the brim.”

Gasps sounded around me. More than a couple of people chuckled.

I ripped my arm out of his grasp and continued on through the market. I didn’t for a second think it was over.

Chapter 3

The cool of the library washed over me as I pushed through the door. Once inside and thankfully out of the public eye, I stood still for a moment and let the tension in my body unwind. Jedrek had really thrown me for a loop. He’d shoved me completely out of my game…in as much as I had one.

Books lined the shelf in the tiny room, not much more than a glorified closet. I didn’t care. This was a place of refuge for me. A place of information. After a tough day, or a boring day, or really any day, I could come here and escape into another world and live a different life.

I swept my gaze across the rows, allowing the smell of well-loved books to permeate my senses.

I’d read every single one of the books in here, some multiple times over. We couldn’t get new ones, so I had to relive adventures. Sometimes, though, that was just the ticket. Like today.

“Finley!” Kessa, the librarian, walked in from a side door. The next room over was nicely furnished, used as a sort of ladies’ social club. It was a place of manners and tradition, with murmured conversations, tea, and little sandwiches. I’d never once been invited to attend.

It was for the best. I liked this side of the wall better, anyway.

“Hey, Kessa.” I set my bag by the door and walked down the shelves on my right. I knew exactly what I was looking for, but I didn’t want to advertise my quest for dirty, hardcore hate-sex right now. There was a time and place, and this was not it.

“Got any new books in?” I asked as a joke, running my finger across the spines of all these glorious books.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She stopped by a little desk in the corner and picked up a small stack of decently made paper. There were another three lying beside it. “Our favorite author wants to know what I think. Why he wastes his time and resources on this is anyone’s guess. He needs a different hobby.”

I laughed. At the next shelf I ran my finger down the spine of a history of our people. On impulse, I pulled it from the shelf and set it aside. I might delve into that one this week. I hadn’t read it for a while. “Think it’s any better than the last one?”

“No. Nor the one before it. I give the notes, he takes the notes, and he doesn’t incorporate the notes. It’s basically the same story, over and over, with the same issues.” She dropped the paper back onto the table. “It’s unreadable. I’m not kidding. Why bother asking for my opinion if you aren’t going to listen to it?”

“I think he’d rather you just compliment him and help him bind it.”

“Bah.” She swatted the air. “That’s what happens when you mate a woman who is too supportive. You make a fool of yourself.”

“At least he has a hobby.” I looked upward to the top of the stacks to see if anything there caught my eye.

“I meant to tell you. Thanks for your help last month. Ernie is making a full recovery!”

I froze for a moment. I’d helped her make the nulling elixir for her mate, who was ten years her senior and had started the slide into sickness. He had some time, and with my help, he’d have more of it, but the elixir wasn’t a cure.

I’d told her all this, but Ernie was her whole world. They’d never had kids, and she didn’t have any family left. He was it. If she lost him, she was alone.

I didn’t have the heart to set her straight.

“I’m glad it’s helping,” I said softly with a pang in my heart. I needed to find a real cure. I had to.

After selecting two more books of renewed interest and grabbing my hate-fuck smut, I went home the long way. I didn’t want to accidentally run into Jedrek or any of his groupie bros.

Letting my mind wander, I glanced at the brilliant sapphire sky above. Only two puffy white clouds puttered across the wide expanse.

Flashes of memory crowded my thoughts. Glittering golden scales against the blue. Buttery-yellow sunlight sparkling across golden wings. Fire belching out of a horned head.

Dragons.

We’d had a plethora of dragon shifters back in the day, all of noble blood. All tasked with protecting the kingdom. But only one of them had routinely stopped me in my tracks.

He had been magnificent, larger than the others even though he was much younger. His movements had been so graceful. So sleek and beautiful. His roar had sent a shock through my very core, soaking my blood in fire. Commanding me to heed his call. I still, to this day, had never felt anything quite like it.

Every single person would stop and gawk as he passed over the village. They would stand transfixed, just like I used to, their mouths open, their gazes pinned to that incredible sight.

The dragon prince. Heir to the throne.

He’d do us all proud, they’d said. He had amazing potential. We’d have the finest kingdom in the magical world.

And then everything had come crashing down.

Rumor was he’d forsaken our kingdom before the king’s deal with the demons. The queen had died not long after, though I couldn’t remember the cause, if I’d ever known.

Next came the end of all things—the curse.

In through the door to the house, I deposited my books on the table and took the food to Hannon. He came out of Father’s room with a grim expression.

“How is he?” I asked.

He shrugged, taking the sack and heading to the kitchen. “Hanging in there.”

“He just needs to make it until spring. Come spring, I will try everything under the sun. I am bound to find something that works.”

He nodded, setting the groceries on the counter. “I know you will. It’s just hard, all of this.”

“Life is hard, but we’ll make do.” I patted his back. “Are the kids still at the schoolhouse?”

“They asked that we stop calling them kids, and yes, they are.”

“Fat chance,” I muttered with a smile. “Oh, guess what I heard today?”

“What’s that?”

“Jedrek is ready to marry!”

He stalled, glancing at me with raised eyebrows. “And his intended?”

I pointed two thumbs at myself. “He thinks we’re the most desirable of people and should therefore mate. I’ll get the honor of carrying all his kids.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “You two will be the handsomest couple in the village, with the surliest children.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “We would be, since there is no way I will agree to marry that assclown.”

He smiled. “What would you do if he turned out to be your true mate?”

“Reject him in a heartbeat. If my animal insisted, I’d sever all ties.”

He laughed softly. “Okay then, I guess we know where you stand.”

“What do you need right now? Can I help in any way?”

His gaze darted into the living room and then out the window to the backyard. “No, I think you deserve the afternoon off. You’ll be drying the leaves in the evening, right?”

“Yup. Magic hour.”

“I think magic hour is at three in the morning.”

“Oh really? Then what is twilight?”

“Twilight.”

Made sense.

I scooped up the books in the living room and headed to my favorite sycamore tree at the edge of the village, facing the Forbidden Wood. With the daylight burning bright, keeping all the demon’s creatures at bay, and that invisible barrier keeping the beast put, it was safe. I settled down on the ground against its trunk and spread out the books in front of me, deciding which I wanted to read right now.

The easy no was the book I’d grabbed about trees and their habitats. While I did want to study up on that damn birch, and the author had written these delightful asides about poisonous mushrooms and other poisons found in nature, I didn’t have the brain capacity right now. I was tired from lack of sleep and anxious about getting those leaves dried just right later on. I pushed it aside.

The romance was high on my list for obvious reasons. I desperately needed that kind of escape. But my gaze kept drifting to the book I’d grabbed about the history of my people, the shifters. Although there were only three kingdoms of shifters now—well, two, since the curse had essentially wiped us off the map—there’d once been five. Two kingdoms led by dragon shifters, two by the wolves, and a lone bear queen and her people. Only the wolf kings and queens now remained, tenacious bastards.

There were other kingdoms, of course, near and far. A few faerie kingdoms with their court politics and intrigues. Hideous goblins with their heaps of stolen treasure. The land of night, ruled by the vampires. And, of course, the cunning demon king who was slowly cutting down all of his competition. Within each kingdom, various villages and towns housed the hardworking people, usually all the same magical type—shifters lived in a shifter kingdom, faeries in a faerie kingdom—but occasionally a star-crossed lover would move in for a little magical diversity, sacrificing sameness for their love. That, or they’d escape beyond the veil to the human realm, disguising themselves within the mundane, often never to return.

The rumor was that the dragon prince had left our kingdom for that very reason. He’d fancied a noble faerie and moved away to her kingdom to be with her, shirking his duties as our prince and future king. Giving it all up for a chance at love.

I couldn’t say I blamed him. Everyone deserved a chance at happiness, even princes. I doubted he had known the cost.

Maybe he still didn’t know. Maybe the mad king had cut him off. We might have been erased from his mind.

It was impossible to know. Nobles weren’t known for hobnobbing with poor commoners, and we were the poorest in the kingdom. We had the least fertile lands and worst commodities. We were one of the farthest out from the castle. Whatever had happened, I doubted anyone in this village had known more than mere rumor. It was probably why no one continued to speculate. Why I hadn’t heard anything more about the curse once I was old enough to understand the larger picture.

The book from the library didn’t talk about the prince’s flight, of course. It was too old. Even still, it offered some sort of connection to our past, to the way things used to be, and I needed to believe they’d be that way again. So I pulled the book onto my lap and settled in.

After a while, a yawn took hold of me, and I bumped my head against the tree, feeling a wave of fatigue. Hopefully tonight I could catch up on some sleep. It was nearly time to go hunting again, and I’d need my stamina to face down those asshole boars. I was one of the only people in the village who routinely took on those beasts, but they had the best and most meat. It was worth the risk.

A moment later, I opened my eyes…and then blinked a few more times.

The light had dwindled around me. A cool breeze drifted across my face, signaling the coming evening. The book that had been in my lap had tipped halfway off, its edge propped against the ground.

I’d only intended to close my eyes for a moment, but I’d obviously fallen asleep.

I sat up, grimacing from the stiffness in my back and legs. If I’d wanted to nap, I should’ve done it in my bed. Not like I’d been planning it.

As I lifted my book and reached over to grab the others, prickles skittered up my back and crawled across my scalp. Eyes. Someone was watching me. A presence, likely dangerous. I didn’t need a connection with my animal to ascertain any of that. Hunting gave a person a certain sixth sense.

I stacked my books nice and neat, a little away from me, and uncrossed my legs. If I needed to move fast, I could.

Nonchalantly, as though I didn’t know anything was amiss, I stretched and did the ol’ look-over-the-shoulder trick. No one waited in sight, though that didn’t mean they weren’t behind me.

I pushed forward to my hands and knees, like I was going to get up, and then peered around the tree trunk. Nothing. Deserted.

I’d half expected Jedrek to be lingering around. I’d rebuffed him publicly today. He wouldn’t make the mistake of approaching me in front of an audience again, but a guy like him wouldn’t relent, either. His ego wouldn’t let him. I expected him to try to catch me alone and then scare me into acquiescing.

But he wasn’t a small man. If he were the lurking presence, I would’ve seen him. Still…the prickles persisted. A strange feeling of heaviness filled my chest, just like I’d felt last night before…

I froze.

Nothing sexual came with it this time. Only a trickle of fire that seeped into my limbs.

I swept my gaze across the darkening trees, the failing light leeching the color from the area. Nothing moved within the lengthening shadows. The light breeze didn’t stir the branches. All was still and quiet.

That did nothing to shake my certainty. Something lurked in the patches of darkness nestled between the branches in front of me. Something watched and waited.

Chills spread across my flesh.

Slowly I got up and grabbed my books. I didn’t intend to hang around and see what the night would bring. Besides, I had things to do. I needed to attend to those leaves.

Turning, I thought I heard the shimmy of leaves.

I jerked my head back toward the Forbidden Wood and squinted as I peered into the gloom. Whatever it was, it was well hidden.

My nerve snapped. I clutched the books to my chest as though they would protect me—classic bookworm reaction—and hurried home.

I slammed the front door behind me and sucked in a deep breath.

“What’s the matter?” Hannon asked, looking up from his own book in the front room.

“Nothing. Just…” I set my books on the little table by the door and plopped down on the couch next to him. “I got spooked, is all. The Forbidden Wood is messing with my mind.”

“Good. That’ll keep you out of there.”

“I want nothing more than to be kept out of there.”

“The day is dying,” he said, going back to his book.

“In other words, get out of your hair and do something useful?”

“Yes. This is a good part.”

“Where are the kids?”

“With their friends.”

They’d be home soon. The setting sun was curfew for children, no exceptions. Even if a creature didn’t wander out of the Forbidden Wood, there were still the demons that lurked in the village after dark. Since the curse, the night was too dangerous for children.

I peeled myself off the couch and headed outside to tend to the everlass.

Time passed in a series of familiar movements. At some point, Dash brought out a bowl of stew and then hung around, listening as I described what I was doing. Working with plants—this one especially—calmed me in a way I couldn’t describe. I enjoyed the careful finesse it required. The way its properties changed with its environment.

In a few hours, I finally finished my tasks and shoved Dash inside so he could go to bed. This harvest would last for a while, thanks to the strong, healthy plants the leaves had come from. By the time I needed more, my plants would hopefully be thriving in the spring sun.

 

***

 

Glowing golden eyes stared at me from the trees. Terror pounded a steady beat in my body. A roar sliced through my bones while also yanking on my middle.

I jerked awake, snapping my eyes open.

Damn that beast’s glowing eyes. I was sure I dreamed of other things, but the only thing I ever remembered upon waking was those accursed glowing eyes, and now the roar, apparently.

A low, menacing growl curled through the air. Cold flowed through my veins.

Please say I’m still dreaming. Please say I’m still dreaming.

I was afraid to move, to turn my head to the side and look for the source of the noise.

The growl sounded again, deep and low, from the same place.

Right outside my bedroom window.

Dread pierced me, and I sat up slowly, fighting the fear freezing my joints.

This couldn’t be what I thought it was. It couldn’t be. The beast couldn’t pass the boundary of the Forbidden Wood. Or at least that was what people said.

The deep growl sounded for the third time, rolling through the dense night air.

“Finley!” Sable lay on her side facing me. Through the hazy moonlight I could just see her wide eyes. She’d heard it too. It was no dream. This impossible situation was happening in real time.

The moonlight through the window flickered…and then went dark, something enormous blocking the light.

“Goddess help us,” Sable said with a quivering voice. “The beast has come for us.”

“It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.”

How was this possible?

I threw myself down and rolled onto the floor. It might be able to see in the dark, but it shouldn’t be able to see much detail through our shades, even as worn and flimsy as they were.

“Don’t move,” I whispered.

On elbows and knees, I crawled to the rickety dresser in the corner. The light resumed streaming in through the window. The beast had moved on.

I pushed up to standing and grabbed my dagger off the top. A moment later, I hurried to the door and ripped it open.

A scream tore through my throat, cut off quickly by a hand clamped to my mouth. Hannon put a single finger to his lips.

I swiped his hand away and pushed past him. I wouldn’t have needed the warning if he hadn’t surprised the shit out of me.

Father coughed behind his closed door, his chest rattling.

Let’s not worry about that now, folks. Let’s work on keeping the whole family alive first.

In the front room, I reached the front door and made sure the heavy wooden beam had been lowered. Its end rested in the metal cradle that secured it in place. Moonlight flickered against the white wood. Then the light dimmed…before it mostly went out.

I closed my eyes as my heart stuttered. Every nerve ending was pinging with electricity. Adrenaline had flooded my system.

Beside the window overlooking the porch, we had three windows in the front room. The two that faced the backyard were close together, and a third looked out onto the side yard between our house and another. Judging by the difference in lighting, both back windows had just been obstructed.

We didn’t have shades on those windows.

Time slowed down as I turned. I knew what I would find.

My nightmares had come to life.

A large, glowing golden eye took up residence in one of the windows.

It was hard to breathe. That strange feeling in my chest rolled outward, fire leaking out from my center and into my limbs. But even as my body burned, my blood had turned to ice. I couldn’t move from fear.

That eye wasn’t more than fifteen feet away, much closer than the last time I’d seen it. Much closer. Through my fear-induced paralysis, I couldn’t help but take in every detail. A thin, vertical oval took up the center, the pupil similar to a cat’s but rounder. A deep, brawny gold outlined the black before exploding outward in a sunburst of color, lined through with streaks of lighter gold, orange, red, and yellow. Along the edges, darker patches shone through, making the sunburst that much more dramatic.

It was beautiful.

It blinked, and I saw that there were two sets of eyelids. The first looked like more of a sheen that slid over from the side. Then the human equivalent, top coming down and meeting the lower lid. The blink happened quickly, but the movement made me jerk.

“Finley?”

Dash’s voice rang down the hall. The golden eye flicked in that direction, as if the beast had heard.

A different sort of fear ate through the first, and I was all action again, launching forward to intercept Dash running into the living room.

“Stay back,” I barked, stopping in the center of the room to block his progress. I held out a hand. “Stay back! Stay out of sight.”

That gorgeous but awful golden eye slid back to me, taking me in, pushing past my barriers and taking my measure. I could feel it, as if he’d ripped out my soul and placed it on a scale.

The eye disappeared, and the body followed, dark scales moving beyond the window. In a moment, the moonlight came back, flaring through the darkness.

The sound of shattering glass made me flinch and lift my arm in front of my face. Something thunked against the wooden floor and skittered to my feet. My pocketknife.

I stared at it as though from a different body. A different world.

It had retrieved my pocketknife. Then it had tracked me here. It knew who I was and what I’d done. It must.

And now it had come to collect.

This might go very badly, everybody. Hang tight for the finale, I thought desperately, my whole body shaking.

I needed action. I needed to break out of these fear-induced shackles and use the energy for something useful. But what? What the hell was I going to do against a creature this size? Hiding seemed to be the only thing available to me right now. Hiding…or a distraction.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn’t give in to them. To save my family, I’d do anything, including running blindly toward the Forbidden Wood so it would chase me. So that my family could get out.

“What do I do?” Hannon asked quietly from the hall.

“Keep them safe,” I said in a hollow voice as I steeled my courage. I bent slowly and picked up the closed pocketknife with my free hand, avoiding the shards of glass on the floor. The light guttered out again, and there was that golden eye, taking my measure. Waiting, it seemed like. Offering me a choice. Give myself up or risk my family.

Choose.

With the window broken, I could now hear the beast. Its puffs of breath in the quiet night. The simmering growl deep in its chest.

It wasn’t a choice. Not for me. It was an eventuality.

“Gather the kids near the large window in your room,” I whispered to Hannon, a tear dripping from my eye. I slipped the pocketknife into the pocket of my pajama bottoms. “If it comes to it, you climb out with them and get them to safety. Otherwise, hunker down and stay put. I’ll distract the beast.”

“No, Finley.” Hannon stepped forward as if to grab me and haul me away to safety.

I threw out my hand. “Stay put, damn it! You have the everlass. Chartreuse in the village square knows how to make the nulling elixir better than anyone else besides me. Ask her for help. Keep Father alive. I’ll…” What would I do? What could I possibly do against a beast? “I will get through this somehow, and I will come back for you, okay? Keep them alive. All of them.”

The tears leaked down my cheeks. My words dripped with sorrow. We both knew I wouldn’t be coming back.

It was okay, though. He’d look after them better than I could. He was the family rock in the ongoing storm.

“I love you all,” I said, turning and stalking quickly for the door.

“What’s she doing?” Dash whined.

“No, Finley,” Sable said, all of them huddled at the entrance to the dark hall.

I removed the wood blocking the door. I paused but didn’t look back. I wanted to go out a hero. I didn’t want the last image they had of me to be of a scared girl headed out to meet her fate.

Chapter 4

After closing the door behind me, I took off at a sprint. I’d be damned if the beast would kill me in front of my family.

I didn’t take the path through the neighbor’s yard, either. It might barrel after me and take them and their house out in the crossfire. Instead, I took the lane down the center of the houses and around.

The beast’s roar sliced through me, making me stumble, commanding me to stop. The force nearly locked up my legs and turned my body to wood. The effect tickled a memory, but my bleating panic wiped it from my mind.

Wood splintered, and heavy footsteps sounded on the path behind me. It must’ve crashed through our garden fence. Hannon could repair that, no problem. At least it was following me. That was the plan.

Putting on a burst of speed, I headed for the Forbidden Wood. I didn’t dare look back. I didn’t want to see the size of the thing. Besides, if it somehow snuck up on me, swooped down, and bit me in two, at least the end would be quick. It would be better than trying to fight a losing battle with a somewhat dull dagger.

Around the last house in the lane, I ran by the sycamore and randomly cursed myself for not telling Hannon to take those books back to the library. As though that were the most important thing in all of this.

Reaching the tree line of the Forbidden Wood, I wondered why I hadn’t been caught. It should’ve reached me by now.

Maybe it hadn’t followed…

I slowed to a stop and spun, expecting to see empty space. Instead, I very nearly wet myself.

Its progress had been utterly silent. Not one puff of breath or massive footstep had alerted me to its presence. But it had followed me all the same.

A massive creature stood just beyond the sycamore, looking down on me. Those eyes glowed in the semidarkness, seemingly soaking up the moonlight showering its dull, murky black scales. A great head reached half as high as the peak of a tall tree, two horns curling away from the top. Its scaled face had a protruding jaw, and long teeth jutted from its lipless mouth. I’d seen its massive shoulders before, taller than me, with a deep, muscular chest. Two stout legs supported it in front, and the upper body sloped down to the hindquarters and slightly shorter back legs.

If I had my leather sheath, I would slip my dagger into it. It wouldn’t help me against what I faced.

If I had more courage, I would stand my ground.

I spun and ran like hell.

I didn’t even know where I was going. Nor did I look back to see if it was following me. I had zero control over myself right then. Panic was driving this wagon, and it was doing it with drunk horses.

I zigzagged around trees and stumbled over rocks. My shoulder rammed a tree trunk I hadn’t noticed, and I careened into a tangle of briars. I gasped as a thorn ripped into my arm and tore my nightshirt. My breath came in fast pants, and the scene before me wiggled in my tear-soaked vision. Some hero. I’d slipped into full damsel, and honestly, I would not mind being saved. I would not mind it at all.

Beyond a set of reaching bushes, I suddenly realized where I was. The tall birch, seemingly out of place, stood before me a ways, marking the everlass field. Even in my blind panic, I’d had enough directional sense to get there. Given that I’d been caught thieving from this very field, it was probably the worst place for me to have led the beast. Then again, where the hell else was I going to go? I could hide in here all night and return home tomorrow…only to find the beast at my house again. I couldn’t escape the village, and now I couldn’t escape the beast.

Time to face the future. How will our hero turned coward escape this time?

Breathing heavily, I stopped in front of the birch and looked up. It took that as a cue to shake like a dancing girl, waving its branches and rattling it leaves.

“Would you shut up, you dickfaced cumsplat?” I yelled at it. “It can find me just fine on its own.”

The low growl behind me was proof of that. I sucked in a deep breath and turned once again.

It stood nestled in the trees, mostly obscured by the branches surrounding it but for those eyes, like two embers surrounded by blackness. Its head lowered, and I clutched my dagger tightly, raising it just a bit. Might as well give the illusion of bravery.

The enormous beast reduced down in a blink, turning into a nude man.

My mouth dropped open. No. It couldn’t be. This was impossible! The ability to shift had been suppressed by the curse. I hadn’t heard of anyone in this kingdom who could still manage it. And while it was possible our village was the only one that had been so afflicted, I certainly hadn’t heard that the beast turned into a man. That was something people would talk about. Warn others about.

He walked toward me, out of the trees. The moonlight fell over his messy brown hair and onto his wide shoulders and robust frame. Thick, well-defined muscle covered every inch of his tall body, not an ounce of fat to spare. He’d earned that muscle through hard-fought battles, I could tell. He looked like a man who knew exactly what he was capable of.

His movements were sleek and graceful, and his eyes—still that same animalistic gold hue—tracked me as he stalked forward. He was the hunter in this situation, and he knew it. The predator. He was sighting in on his prey. Me.

What caught me, though, wasn’t his muscle or obvious power. It wasn’t even the aura of danger that twisted my gut and made my legs tremble. It was his scarred appearance.

A mess of vicious scars cut across his physique. A ragged silver line on his pec ran beside his nipple, four parallel scars sliced through his side, and other lines crisscrossed his abdomen. He’d tried to cover them up with swirls of ink. It hadn’t worked, though. If anything, it brought more attention to his past trauma, some causing puckered skin and others creating valleys from what must’ve been deep wounds.

He stopped a handful of feet from me, his brawn and power making my breath come out unevenly. Even as man, he was enormous. I was a tall woman, but his height topped mine by a foot. The point of my dagger wobbled back and forth, and there was nothing I could do to hide my shaking arm.

“You are trespassing,” he said with a deep, scratchy voice. It sounded like he’d earned that, too. As though he’d screamed so hard and long that he’d damaged his vocal cords.

“You chased me in here. I hardly think that counts,” I said, adept at biting back against all odds. I’d had a lot of practice.

“The price of trespassing is detention. The price of stealing is death.”

“Good thing I didn’t steal, then.” I held out my arms to indicate my lack of stolen goods.

Clearly on impulse, he dipped his gaze down to follow the thread of the conversation. His eyes had started moving back upward, toward my face, when he did a double take and settled his attention on my chest. I belatedly realized that sweat had made my threadbare nightshirt cling to my freely hanging breasts, no time for binding before I ran from the house. The cold and fear had made my nipples stand at attention. He was getting an eyeful.

The pressure in the air increased. The weight inside of my middle flipped over, and more fire leaked out. My core tightened as his gaze slowly lifted to mine. Hunger flashed in those golden eyes. Lust. Dominance.

Something within me—something foreign but rooted way down deep—purred in delight. Desire warmed my body.

What the fuck is happening, folks? This shit is no good.

I recognized this feeling, though. It was the lust magic from last night. This still didn’t feel the same as an incubus’s power. Their power was lean and slinky and slick. Oily. This was…raw and intense and powerful. Dangerous. Delicious.

I pushed it away with everything I had, ignoring the sudden wetness between my legs and the unyielding desperation to be taken roughly. To have him pound that big cock into me over and over again.

“Finley, isn’t it?”

Why did that rough voice suddenly feel like a sensuous lick across my heated flesh? I hated that I loved it. Hated that I suddenly craved his kisses between my thighs. His fingers banging into my slick sex.

“Fuck the goddess sideways, I am losing my fucking mind,” I mumbled, trying to get a grip. I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. It felt like his magic was unwinding me, one thread at a time. Why did it feel so fucking good?

“Do you want to be dominated, Finley? Your animal certainly does.”

“Wh-what?” I pushed my palm to my chest, feeling that weight within rail against my ribcage, as though it were indeed a creature trying to break free. The fire kept seeping into my bloodstream, pulsing power into my limbs. I was drunk with it. Drunk on this feeling. Desperate to let this big-ass alpha push me down into the dirt right now and drive that big cock deep into my needy cunt.

“Enough!”

His bark of command was like a splash of cold water.

I blinked and realized I’d dropped my dagger and now stood right in front of him. His chest heaved like mine, his large cock fully erect between us. I hadn’t touched him yet, but it was clear I’d been about to act on the things I’d been thinking. To demand he give me what I was craving.

The scary thing was that I had no idea when I’d moved or how I’d gotten there. Neither of those things had registered. It was like someone else had assumed control of my movements. Control of me. But at the same time, I remembered thinking those dirty words. Remembered wanting to act on them. Remembered feeling the ache in my core at the filthy, delicious thoughts.

Oh no, was it happening again?

Without thinking, I slapped him across the face. Then thought, Oh shit, what did I just do?

Before I could back-pedal or run or laugh manically, he snatched my wrist out of the air.

“I will give you that one,” he said in a voice out of a nightmare. “I am partially responsible. I didn’t control my beast as I ought to have. But you will get just the one. Try it again, and I’ll break you.”

“What disgusting type of creature are you?” I asked. “Are you the king of the incubi or something? You magically force girls to give themselves to you?”

“I am no demon, princess, I can assure you.”

The pet name was condescending, as was his expression.

“You don’t know what you have bottled up inside of you, do you?” he asked.

I squinted at him and, for the first time, didn’t have a witty comeback. The bastard had completely knocked me off my game.

He flung my hand away and then shoved me backward, lightly enough to force some space but not enough to send me sprawling.

“That beast inside of you is going to get you into trouble,” he said. “You need to learn to control it.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

He huffed out a laugh, shook his head, and then looked up at the sky. “Fucking typical.” It sounded like he was talking to himself. Or maybe he’d borrowed my invisible audience for the moment. He rolled his shoulders before squaring them. “You have stolen the everlass plant from these lands on multiple occasions. Why?”

“No, I didn’t.” Only an idiot would fess up without proof.

“Why?” he growled.

Fear wound through me, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it. That plant was clearly very important to him. This wasn’t just about stealing—it was about stealing from him. His grudge was personal, and I did not want to incriminate my village. My secrets would die with me.

“Most people come to this wood in the hopes of escaping this rotting kingdom,” he said. “They either hope to kill me or, lately, make a deal with the demon king. But you and some of your brethren steal the everlass plant. Your village is the only one to have shown an interest in it. Why?”

“I assume others do it because their gardens are too small and they don’t have enough room to grow the plants they need.”

He took a step forward, bristling with anger. “Do you need to make this so difficult?”

“Do I need to make my execution difficult? Yeah, kinda. It’s not something I am looking forward to.”

His stare beat into me, turning my belly to gravy. “You are trying to fight a battle that you cannot win.”

“Life is a battle we cannot win. The question becomes, do we want to go down peacefully, or fight until our last breath? I choose to fight.”

That weight in my chest—almost an actual presence—thunked within me. I felt its approval.

Could it really be my animal? Was that even possible?

The air between us crackled. “You leave me no choice.”

A shock of power slammed into me. It throbbed, not sexual this time but commanding. Consuming. The compulsion to answer him washed over me. Pulled me down and battered me around. I opened my mouth to obey. I shut it.

I was not a puppet to play with. I was not a servant to boss around. I had no master, and I wouldn’t take one now. If he wanted to kill me, fine, but I would not be compelled to give up my secrets.

I clenched my jaw to hold back the words. I dug the nails of my free hand into the heel of my palm, focusing on that bite of pain.

Anger and frustration sizzled from him. More power came, punching me. It set fire to my skin and scraped down my bones. Agony flash-boiled my blood. It hurt so badly that I thought I might black out. But still I resisted.

“Damn you, Finley,” he growled. He reached forward and grabbed me by the throat, yanking me toward him. His golden eyes locked with mine. “Why?”

That presence within me poured out fire. Anger. Rage.

I had the pocketknife in my hand without thinking. Opened it without knowing how.

I stabbed him in the chest.

He hissed and tossed me away. A hand came up quickly to the knife now sticking out of his pec. I hadn’t stabbed in nearly far enough. It was nothing but a flesh wound. Given the state of his body, he’d had plenty. Given his thick slab of muscle, it wouldn’t slow him down much.

This was going to work out very badly for me.

I was up and running in a flash. I couldn’t go home, though. That would just bring him back to my family. Instead, I turned right and dodged around the birch tree, which surged to life. It shook and waved and did its jig. On the other side, I felt his pounding command to halt, but I ignored it. I ran out into the everlass, watching my footfalls until I got to the middle. There I stopped, breathing hard, and faced him again.

If the everlass was personal to him, he’d understand its fragility. He wouldn’t want to tramp through the field and destroy it. Hopefully.

He appeared at the edge of the field with blood streaming down the new hole in his pec, dipping into the groove between his stomach muscles and lats.

He spread his arms. “Where are you going to go? If you run back to your village, I’ll kill them all. Do you want that? Your life is forfeit, Finley. You stole from this land, and now you belong to me.”

“And who are you? The demon king’s puppet? His minion?”

Confusion crossed his face. He tilted his head and then started laughing without humor. He lowered his arms.

“This just keeps getting better and better,” he said to himself. Then to me: “In the absence of the king, as the only noble left standing, I am the keeper of these lands. I am their protector. I am your jailer and your master.”

“Their protector? Are you joking? People are dying. The sickness from that curse is killing them. If anything, I am the protector. I am the one who keeps them alive when the curse’s sickness tries to rot their bodies as it has rotted this wood. You should be thanking me, not threatening me. All you do is wander around these woods in beast form and kill trespassers. Who the fuck are you protecting it from? Its subjects? You’re either misguided or an idiot. Exact your punishment and be done with it. You’re wasting my time.”

His fists opened and closed. He looked down at the everlass at his feet, then back up at me. It seemed like he was warring with himself over something. He walked forward, picking his way carefully. A sudden insight ripped through me. He’d said only my village was using this field, and none of them were great at pruning. He was the one who had been pruning and taking care of these plants. Showing them love.

I didn’t have time for the confusion I felt.

I lifted a foot and braced it over the nearest plant.

He paused. “That’s just one plant, Finley.”

“By the time you get to me, it’ll be a lot more than one plant. We both know they share a root system. If one of them is crushed, they’ll all share the pain. They’ll all dwindle if I take out enough of them. I know how many that has to be.”

I wasn’t sure that was true. I thought I had read it once.

He immediately froze, though, so perhaps it was accurate. He slowly brought his palms up in a placating gesture.

“Your brother entered these grounds not long ago with two others.”

My heart stopped beating. I lowered my foot in case I accidentally lost balance and crushed a plant anyway.

“His life—their lives—also belong to me. I will forgive their trespassing and theft if you cooperate.”

“We can make a deal,” I said quickly, licking my lips. “I’ll tell you my secrets if you spare the village. They’re having a hard enough time. They aren’t trying to hurt anyone. They certainly don’t have the resources to kill you.”

He contemplated that for a moment.

“I will consent to spare those who treat the everlass well. Everyone else will die,” he snarled.

It had to be good enough.

“Fine, yes, I’ve been here a few times out of necessity. Trust me, I didn’t want to set foot in the wood. We use the everlass in an elixir I devised called the nulling elixir. Over the years, I’ve strengthened it so that it prolongs the lives of those who’ve fallen ill with the sickness from the curse.” I swallowed. “I still haven’t gotten it quite right. It isn’t a cure. But while we used to lose a dozen villagers in a year, now we’re down to a couple. Only one so far this year.”

“You created this elixir?” I couldn’t tell whether he was incredulous, but I could definitely tell he was sneering.

“Just because we weren’t born with money doesn’t mean we weren’t born with intelligence. We all have our own gardens, but during the winter months, as you must know, the everlass hibernates. The leaves we pick don’t grow back. Given we need a lot to keep a person stable, some of us with patients on the brink run out. When desperate, we either let them die, or we turn to this wood and risk confronting the beast that patrols it. Mr. Protector, as you call yourself. There, happy? We’re just trying to save lives.”

“I haven’t heard of this elixir.”

“Why would someone wander in here and tell you? We didn’t even know you turned into a man. Or that anyone could still shift.”

“None of the other villages have it.”

“We are confined to the village, genius. I created the elixir. How would I share it with anyone beyond our borders? Mental telepathy?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“And I suppose you have a better theory. What did you think we came in here for, a dare? To stuff our pillows with extra fluff? Maybe a lovely little fragrance pot for the corner of our—”

He bristled again, and blistering heat crunched down on me. The consuming need to shut up washed over me.

“We struck a bargain,” he said. “The past grievances of your village and your brother are erased. I will show them no wrath. Come now. You must pay for your sins.”

The wind went out of me. I looked down at the everlass plants one last time as tears clouded my vision. I nodded, to myself mostly, and picked my way forward.

He waited beyond the birch, tall and stoic against the dark wood. I faced him with head held high.

“Do you want your weapons?” he asked.

I huffed. “Would they do any good?”

He didn’t answer. Just stared.

I shrugged indifferently and collected them, wiping the blade of the pocketknife and putting it back in my pajama pocket, then hefting the dagger.

“You could’ve been incredible one day, Finley,” he said.

The enormous beast emerged, and he lunged for me.

I swung my dagger on instinct, driven purely by fear. It clanged off his armored face. His glowing golden eyes blinked shut and then his teeth closed against my body.

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