When the Woods Go Silent (Haret Chronicles: Dark Fae #1)

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

R OSE

It’s velvety black outside the windows when I sit up, heart pounding.

What woke me? The room is quiet, and although clouds are covering the moon and stars outside the windows, there’s a soft glow coming from our hallway light. I can see Ruby sleeping peacefully on our pallet of blankets, a soft smile on her lips. I watch her for a second, feeling a swirl of emotions ranging from gratefulness to fear to wonder that she actually can sleep so soundly after everything yesterday.

She saw dead bodies, decapitated heads, pools of blood. She watched a man get gutted. I can’t get the images out of my head, and I wasn’t even there.

She talked to trees, walked away from a car crash unharmed, and stuck around when the guy she was dating admitted to being part gobbelin. I know this means he drinks human blood, because Kier told me.

Does she even know that yet?

Whatever this is between her and Torrence, it’s strong. I still don’t want to believe Torrence’s claim that she would choose him, but after yesterday, I could imagine her trying to find a way to avoid the choice - to choose both of us. If that happens, it will rip her in two, and I can’t let that happen, either. As much as I don’t trust him, I have to let her follow this thing with Torrence through, to whatever end it has.

It sucks so much that the only way for me to avoid hurting her, is to allow her to get hurt by him.

Extricating myself slowly from the blankets, careful not to wake her, I pad to the kitchen for some water. I doubt I’ll be able to go back to sleep again. The cool liquid slides down my throat, soothing my nerves a little, and I drain a full glass. The darkness outside is nearly complete, shadow layered on shadow, but I can still see the sway of branches in an invisible wind.

I’ve never felt the pull of the woods like Ruby does, but some part of me is desperate to be among those trees right now. Would they speak to me? Would I want them to?

I unlock the balcony door and step out onto the narrow space, leaning against the railing. The breeze ruffles my hair gently, and I breathe in deeply, scenting a storm on the edge of the night. Leaves rustle against one another, and when I focus on it, the sound is different, too. My mind begins to recognize patterns - repeated syllables, structure to the whispers, as though it’s a language I simply don’t know.

Ruby said Torrence spoke fae words to the trees, but she spoke English and they understood her.

“What do you want from us?” I ask softly, because as much as I might want to hide from everything that’s happening, Ruby and I were led here for a reason. I need to find it.

I imagine the words being carried out across the treetops on the wind. After a minute, the rustling changes, giving me new repeated sounds, new grammatical structures. Something that sounds a little like my name, but could be nothing more than a sigh on the wind.

An image surfaces in my mind like a video, of me dressed as I am now, in sweatpants and bundled hair, walking through the woods. Eyes open, not sleepwalking. The feeling of safety mixed with the champagne bubbles of excitement that come when I’m learning something new and exciting.

And I wonder if maybe the trees don’t even need words to communicate with me. Something tickles my wrist, and I look down to see a slim vine curling gently around it, tapping at my palm. The me from yesterday would have snatched her hand away in fear, but now, I watch the vines move, my eyes and ears open, ready to learn.

More vines crawl over the railing and they thicken and twine together, looping around the railing of the balcony and dangling down into the night. A startled smile crosses my face as a new image arrives, me climbing down the vines like Rapunzel from the tower.

“Okay. I’ll come down. But I’m using the stairs,” I say, for once ignoring the logical, practical side of me that says I’m losing my mind and talking to plants is way beyond the first sign.

I wiggle my wrist free from the vines, relieved that they don’t tighten or tug. Slipping back inside, I grab my tennis shoes, phone, and keys, then tiptoe down the stairs to the back door. I lock up behind me, hesitating on the grass as guilt for leaving Ruby alone washes over me.

But I need to know more.

Looking up at the balcony from below, I tug on my shoes and take a deep breath, whispering a plea to the woods to continue to keep Ruby safe. The vines release the balcony railing and tumble down around me, unknotting themselves and slithering into the forest like a mess of tangled green snakes, and I shiver at the unwelcome image. Hopefully, that’s just my imagination and not a message from the forest.

Trees and vines are okay, but if I start seeing snakes and spiders? Nope, I’m done.

I enter the tree line, immediately noting a hint of electricity - almost a hum, like I’m standing in a room full of computers or banks of servers. When I close my eyes briefly, I imagine I can see glowing outlines of individual trees. It reminds me of night vision images, and I wonder what exactly I’m experiencing.

Is it just in my head, or is this a sort of magic? Am I seeing the energy of the trees or imagining things?

I experiment with tiny steps, eyes closed again, and a mix of unease and bright curiosity swirls through me as I realize I can actually navigate around the trunks without seeing them. It’s definitely not just in my head. Then I trip on a root, and I snort at myself, opening my eyes again. Leaves rustle above me, and in an odd way, the sounds remind me of childish laughter.

“Did you do that on purpose?” I ask the tree whose root almost took me to the ground. Of course, there’s no answer, and I shake my head. This is all too strange. If Kier hadn’t already shown me so many magical things, I would assume I was hallucinating and check myself into a mental ward.

Instead, here I am, fumbling my way into rebuilding my reality.

Finding a fallen log cushioned with soft moss, I sit and press my palms to the wood, closing my eyes and letting my breathing get slower. I’ve done a fair amount of meditation in my healing journey, and it’s not long before I slip into the stillness around me, floating on the gentle idea of an open, empty mind.

My awareness expands as I imagine the forest as a whole, then the state, then a broader and broader world, until my mind is lost in the stars. Then I narrow it back down to my senses - the rough bark under the pads of my fingers, the crinkle of dried leaves at my feet. The scent of pine and impending rain, fresh green growth and the musk of animals that crawl through the nighttime forest.

The rustling of the leaves intensifies, and the patterns become clearer to me as my mind organizes the sounds, methodically solving the puzzle like a math equation. The repetition makes more sense, like hearing a language I learned years ago, but have mostly forgotten.

Then the raindrops begin, pattering the leaves above, dripping slowly through the canopy until a few cold drops land on my hands and face. I give in to the world around me, willing my brain to open wider and remember I’m just another animal in the forest at night. I’m part of this world, not separate like humans often believe.

I’m part of the spring growth and the winter decay. My body came from these molecules, and my energy was transferred from other energy around me.

As the rustle of the leaves merges with the images in my mind, I start to feel the shift from nonsense to sense. From confusion to order.

Take back your power , the trees whisper to me, and I finally, truly, understand them, deep inside my soul, beyond any organized syllables of language.

Take back the power that was locked away inside of you. The power that was stolen from you and hidden in order to keep you safe. Take back your true nature. Open yourself, Rose. Bloom.

The whole universe seems to spin around me in ever-expanding whorls as the rustles of leaves turn themselves into whispers in an ancient language, then filter into understanding in my brain. It feels impossible, but so does everything else that’s happened in the last few days.

“I’m listening,” I whisper, taking a line from Ruby. She’s always told the trees this, and they protected her today. Maybe they’ll do the same for me.

Take back your power.

The command swirls in my mind, repeating and multiplying, as though there are a thousand soft voices encouraging me. I don’t know how to do what they’re asking, but the allure of having any kind of power in all this craziness is irresistible.

Feeling a little silly, I spread my arms wide, palms to the dark night, and will myself to be open to whatever magic waits for me, scuffling in the shadows.

Nothing happens, though.

The breeze slides along my skin, more raindrops fall, and the trees continue to whisper, but I don’t feel anything inside me change. I do, however, sense the footfalls coming toward me through the maze of trunks, too far away to hear. A pulse, low in my belly, somehow recognizes Kier long before he steps into view, and I wonder if this isn’t also a sort of magic.

Like with the trees, I can feel him as a source of energy now, and although my open eyes only see him, the sight behind closed eyelids shows me his aura. I’ve never been one to put much belief in that sort of mysticism, but there’s no other word for it. In my mind’s eye, I see him glowing bright and clean, with a green aura and a pit of golden fire in his center, wrapped around with green tendrils.

I suck in a breath, opening my eyes to meet his, and he cocks his head at me.

“Scared?”

I stand and shake my head, holding his gaze.

“You should be, out here alone in the forest with so much magic loose. You aren’t being safe, Rose.”

Is he just cautioning me, or does he already know me well enough to understand that choosing danger is out of character for me? Not for Ruby, but for me? I’m always watching for the safest path.

But not tonight.

He steps closer, and I let him, keeping my eyes fixed on his as he comes close enough to kiss me. He doesn’t, though we’re breathing each other’s air, my head tilted back to see him better. I was tricked before by Ronan’s glamor, and now I wonder how. Kier is so clear to me here, so bright. The black night sky stretches out above him, stenciled over with swaying branches, and I choose danger again.

I cup the back of his neck and pull him in, our lips meeting in something that turns to liquid fire in seconds. The attraction between us is magnetic and primal, and I’m not surprised to find myself on my back on the forest floor within minutes. He’s created a soft bed of moss and tiny flowers to cradle me, and although his magic only just called them into being, I can feel their energy, too.

He’s created something living, something sentient, and as I understand the power this carries, my body vibrates with the possibility that I could have this same magic.

Even an echo of it would be enough to change the world.

“You’re different tonight,” Kier murmurs against my neck, his hand sliding under my shirt to caress my skin. “Tell me what’s changed.”

I arch into him, wrapping one leg around his hips to pull him closer. “I can hear the trees. Understand them.”

He stills, raising his head to fix me in his gaze, curious but still guarded. “You let the magic back in.”

I give him a half-smile, grappling with the idea. “I don’t know what all of this means, Kier.”

He gives me a rakish grin and consumes me in a kiss that leaves me breathless, his hands gripping the soft curves of my hips like he will never want to let go.

“It means I found who I was looking for.”

My heart stutters, but my brain sharpens. Am I more than a prize to him? More than a potential weapon of war? My body stiffens against his, and he notices.

“Rose, no. Don’t spiral so far ahead.”

His words startle me - how does he know my anxiety so well? My bad habit of taking one seed and imagining the whole garden it could begin, years from now. Will this seed of magic I planted tonight grow into something beautiful or something poisonous?

“Stay right here, right now,” Kier says, plying me with more kisses. My body is softening again, molding to his and accepting his hands everywhere.

“I have a theory,” he whispers, fingers grasping the elastic of my sweatpants and slipping them down, then my underwear. His mouth lands hot kisses along my stomach, each breath a little lower.

Cool raindrops mix with the heat of us, and I give in, quieting my spinning thoughts as best I can and focusing on the pleasure he doles out so generously.

“What’s your theory?” I gasp as his mouth settles at the apex of my thighs, his hands spreading me wide to the vibrant night air.

His tongue runs the length and width of me slowly, measuring my pleasure an inch at a time. Eventually, I do what he asked and sink into the moment, feeling the pulse of magic all around me as the trees stand witness to the way he breaks me apart.

Kier swirls his tongue around my clit, curving two fingers deep inside me to find the twin spot on my inner walls. My eyes roll back as he plays me so expertly, bringing me to the very edge with a skill I’ve rarely experienced. He backs away, kissing everywhere but where I want him to, his fingers stroking the edges of desire, sharpening them like a knife. A whimper escapes my lips, and he laughs, low and prideful.

“I have a theory that strong emotion will unlock your magic. Pleasure, or pain. I know which one I prefer.”

I raise my head to see him, his amber-green eyes flashing up from the center of my body, his full lips glistening with the taste of me. As our eyes hold, he sucks my clit between his lips, pumping his fingers again in that perfect spot. Higher and higher he drags me, until I don’t think I can hold on any longer, then he pulls back again.

Laughs, when my moan ends in something more like a growl at being denied yet again.

“Bloom for me, Rose,” he says, taking the words the trees spoke to me and turning them instantly sultry, a promise and a challenge twined together. “Make something bloom for me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

My lips part as I understand the game. I created a rose before, when he pressed me against the bookshelf and made me come with barely more than his thigh between my legs. And I created vines when I was scared of Ronan, a sort of pain as I imagined him stealing my history and rewriting it to fit his needs.

Kier blinks languidly, giving my clit the tiniest flick of his tongue. I jolt against the sudden ache of need. “How? I don’t know how.” I’m desperate for the release he’s promising.

“You know more than you think you do,” he says, his eyes straying to the trees above us, and I realize he’s right.

I remembered a whole language tonight. It’s possible I can unlock even more. The expression on my face must tell him something, because he chuckles and buries his face between my thighs, working like the devil to help me find that precipice again.

I writhe beneath him as he takes me right to the sharpest edge of pleasure, then backs down without mercy. I curse him under my breath as the ache in my core grows more and more unbearable, and I swat away visions of pushing him away so I can finish the fucking job myself.

I don’t need to work at staying in the moment anymore, because every shred of my existence has narrowed to the tiny bundle of nerves he’s taken control of. On and off, on and off, he flicks the switch until I feel like sobbing.

“Focus, Rose. Bloom for me,” Kier whispers in one of his maddening lulls, and as his fingers drift to the roundness of my belly and the full ache of my breasts, I begin to see an image in my mind’s eye. The full, lush petals of a lotus flower, blushed with pink like my bare skin. The sheen of sweat on my skin gathers like shining dew. The spring air, heavy with my arousal, grows sweeter and denser with the fragrance of jasmine. The clutch of moss beneath my clenched hands molds into glossy, thick leaves.

Kier gasps, and my eyes fly open. Resting on the curve of my stomach is the most beautiful flower I’ve ever seen. Nothing in my limited vocabulary can name its exotic shape, but it’s undeniably mine. I created it, and a thrill of shock and joy rush through me as I cup its very real petals between my hands.

And then I’m flying, soaring off the edge in a heady bliss as Kier rewards me with the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. My hips buck as he presses against them, and the moan of his name echoes around the whole forest as I come hard enough to see stars of my own making.

The storm unleashes a torrent of rain, drenching us quickly despite the leaves above. And still he wrings pleasure from me, until my whole body is shaking and I feel like I might unravel into nothing but energy and float away with the storm clouds.

“Beautiful,” he finally says, moving his lips to my thighs, dropping kisses along the heat of my skin as the rain softens and ends. He presses my thighs closed, leaving one hand cupping my tender pussy as he moves to lie next to me, curving his body against mine. The act is so intimate, so possessive, that I just blink at him. His hand, pressed warm and firm against the very center of me, seems to speak of an ownership I wouldn’t want to fight.

With his other hand, he drags the heavy peachy-pink blossom to the valley between my breasts. Bending low to breathe it in, he laughs in wonder.

“You made this, Rose. It wasn’t me.”

“It was sort of you,” I say, trying to regain a sense of myself again with a little teasing.

“I pointed you in the direction,” he teases back, his palm tightening against my hyper-sensitive skin, one fingertip slipping inside me like a warning.

I tremble at the too-much, too-soon sensation, and he chuckles.

“I made it,” I agree breathlessly, reaching to trace the edges of each perfect petal. A shiver crawls across my shoulders, and Kier finally takes his hands away, leaving me with a sense of hollow loss. In only a few days, I’ve developed a dangerous craving for his touch.

“Here, let me dry your clothes.”

I watch with wide eyes as he focuses his magic and creates a ball of heat without flame. The raindrops turn to steam without burning the fabric, and the wonder of it all flushes me all over again. I slip my dry clothes on and cradle the flower to my stomach. It’s as big as a kitten.

“Do you know what this is?” I ask, but Kier shakes his head.

“I’ve never seen one like it.”

That alone boggles my mind again. How can I create something I have no reference for? It’s more frightening than encouraging, to be honest.

“You must have a lot of power locked away in there somewhere.” Kier brushes a damp curl from my face, and that squeeze of fear tightens again as the reason for my magic rushes back in. He and his brothers need a weapon, and I’ve just shown him that I have something they can use.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” I warn, pressing a bruise into the flower’s perfect petals. “I don’t want to leave Clearwater. I’m not the kind of person that jumps into a fight, Kier. I hate violence. I hate the idea of war. I would never support it by being active in one.”

“You could stop one,” he says, keeping his tone gentle, though I hear the pleading notes beneath his casual manner. “You’re not one to back down either, I think.”

“Or I could be tricked into killing innocent people. I don’t know your world. Please don’t force me to do this.” I don’t want to beg, but I’m all too aware of how easily he could wrap me up in his vines and steal me away.

I don’t have to believe in any of this for him to think he knows better.

But he shakes his head.

“A changeling has to willingly come home to Aralia to fully reclaim their magic,” he says softly, twining his fingers with mine. A memory surfaces, of Ronan asking me repeatedly to come with him. My thoughts hadn’t been on kidnapping then, but now I understand why someone as fierce as him didn’t just bind me with magic and force me to Aralia.

“I have to give consent,” I whisper, and Kier nods. “What happens if I’m forced back there?”

He shrugs. “Nothing, really. But you would be useless to do what Brigance needs. Flowers, pretty as they are, are no match for a gobbelin army.”

“Then no. I don’t give my consent. I won’t go. Ever,” I add, and the force of my tone brings a sad smile to his lips.

“I hope that changes one day, when you know more.”

I don’t answer him, knowing it won’t. It can’t, unless I somehow lose everything here. My whole life has been a series of forced changes, and the ones I’ve made this year are finally getting me to a place I want to be. I’ve barely had the chance to try on the feeling of stability and control, and here he is, asking the impossible.

“Take me back, Kier. I want to be home with Ruby.” I stand, shaking off the stillness of the night around us. I wanted to sleep in the living room to watch over Ruby, and here I am, wandering the woods.

He sighs, but he listens. His vines form a seat for us, swinging us gently and swiftly up, across the treetops. My fingers trail in the fog that’s rolled in, and I hear the call of night birds. It’s beautiful, haunting.

Magical.

And for the first time, I begin to wonder what I might be giving up if I refuse to let this magic in. The change I’m trying to refuse is already here.

Magic has entered our lives, and deep down, I know nothing is going back to the way it was before.

THE WOODS

The girl and the fae - for tonight we have remembered what he is - are leaving now, and our job is done.

While he taught her to remember the magic we wanted her to take back, we wove together to keep them safe from the woman in white.

We hate the way she sneaks and spies, disregarding the hopeful places in us as her ice needles its way through the earth.

Of all the magical creatures we have seen, she is the worst.

Fire, ice, storms, and even drought have their place in the wheel of seasons. This woman has no place. She forces herself into the cracks and crevices, expanding them into unnatural fissures like an invasive weed. She breaks apart the good in us, trying to replace it with her ice, and we know she will do the same to the girl if she can.

She does not belong here, but we have no power to make her leave.

Now that the girl understands our language, though, perhaps our power can flow through her. We can tell her what to do to save herself from this contorted, too-quick being that should never have entered our world.

Our rings have begun to beat again, the heart of our roots quickening with the belief in magic the two sisters have shown us. Our power increases, and though we are weak yet, we remember.

We remember, and we gain strength as surely as the sun rises.