Garin felt a tangible shock as she walked into the bar. He had been keeping his distance from the café all day, hoping to avoid running into her. She looked incredible. He had only ever seen her once, the day before but he hadn't paid that much attention to what she was wearing. He didn't realize how long her hair was. It had been pulled back into a tight braid the first time he had seen her. Now her hair tumbled free over her shoulders, a cascade of rubies in the candlelight. She was dressed in a skin-tight green dress that illuminated her every curve. He noticed a hand around her waist, and it was only then, he saw that she had an escort. This other man irritated him for some reason. He was probably also a shifter, although from what he read, the males weren't nearly as powerful as the women. Their abilities were more sporadic, dependent upon the moon phases as opposed to just ability. Her eyes flashed to his and she looked just as affected as he was. She held his gaze for a mo
Willow's heart raced the entire night. She could barely eat. His presence burned itself into her awareness. She was hyper-aware of where he was at all times. Every shift he made in his seat, she viscerally felt it. She felt Lyall's eyes on her every time she shifted to look behind her. "Checking out that guy back there?" he asked sharply. She turned back to him; a blush stained across her cheeks. "No, he's a hunter. It makes me…uncomfortable when they are that close." She replied after a moment. "I've never seen him before. Is he a Brochade?" She nodded. "I guess he is just in town for the festival," she stated. Lyall nodded. His mood evening out now that he didn't think she was attracted to the man in the corner. They were onto their dessert course when she felt Garin stand. Her back began to heat as he drew closer, she felt as if she were aflame. He passed by without a glance at her table. The woman with him spared her a small glance and she felt a traitorous twinge of jeal
A walk would be nice, she decided, not a run like this morning. Was it just this morning that she had been out? It had felt like a lifetime since then. She wouldn't shift, not tonight. It was too close to the full moon. She didn't want to tempt fate. Tugging on a thick green hoodie, jeans, and woolen socks, she felt better. Calmer. More in control. She braided her wet locks into two tight braids and pulled on a grey knit beanie. The nights were growing colder fast and the last thing she needed was to catch a cold when she had to work the next week straight. She sneaked down the stairs like a burglar on her stockinged feet. Peering around the corner, she saw her grandmother fast asleep, mouth agape, and snoring loudly. Her long hair was unbound and flowed around the back of the chair like kelp in the ocean, swaying slightly with every deep-throated rumble. Willow smiled, her heart squeezing and left through the front door, holding her boots in her hands. Even though she wasn't in
After a deep sleep, Willow felt better. Slightly. The image of the wolf head still disturbed her but her resolution to keep a large distance between her and the Brochade family had strengthened here. Here is something that she can control. She will avoid their neighborhood and anywhere else that they are known to frequent, which isn't much in this town. The sun had just risen as Willow unlocked the café's front door. She is soothed by the smell of roasted coffee beans and the quiet of an early morning. Despite being tired, she loves working the entire day. Nothing quite feels as accomplished as seeing the business through from start to finish. Locking the door behind her, she walks to her small office in the back and dumps her purse onto her desk. Even though it has only been about a day, she feels as if she hasn't been here in forever. She runs her hand lightly over the back of her leather office chair, the first thing that she had purchased for herself after opening this place.
Tourists swarmed the town. With only a few days until the festival, people were pouring in, wanting to make sure they got a room at the hotel in town instead of having to commute in. The festival lasted all week but on The Fest of the Forest, the real celebration began and lasted all day. It was quite a sensation. People traveled from states away to visit and see the spectacle. It made Willow tear up every year. Many people came to pay homage to The Women of the Moon. What they thought was a folk tale was really the telling of Willow's ancestors. It always warmed her heart to see the people dancing in the streets, bedecked in all sorts of luminaries. She had been so busy she hadn't even had time to think of Garin. Much. It had been a few days since he had stopped here. She hadn't seen him since but every so often she caught a whisp of his scent outside of her door. Being busy had also meant that she hadn't seen a lot of Lyall as well but now, here he came, holding the door open for
The rain began to come down harder now. Garin was huddled underneath a tree, the cold rain had seeped into his thin sneakers. He was shivering uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to stay warm. He had eaten most of the food in his pack. It was only meant to last three days max. He had only a handful of granola bars and jerky left to get him through, but he had no idea how to get home. He had wandered for two days; the trail being washed out from the storm that had ripped through the mountains. He didn't know what he was going to do. He sat watching the rain pelt down, rivulets of water running down his face and into the neck of his sodden jacket. Willow was irritated. Lyall had come by every day while she was at work until she finally told him that she needed space. He was too distracting. He took it the wrong way of course but at least he had left her alone. She hadn't seen Garin in a while and was crestfallen. His scent was washed away with the freak sto
His scent wavered at the river. Willow bent down, digging her hands into the mud, and lifted it to his face. Thankfully, he had decided to not cross. It would have surely killed him. These were glacial fed rivers, numbing the skin within seconds of contact. He went west. She rinsed her hand and quickly dried it on her pants, stuffing it back inside the gloves she had grabbed as she left her house. This was a furious storm. Thunder echoed miles away, crashing against the mountains that separated them from the next valley. The river was rising, swollen and angry. Torrents of rain continued falling down. She could barely make out his footprints along a drier patch of mud that was slightly sheltered by an overhang of shale. She paused her herself, breathing in his deep, woody scent. He had trailed his hand along here, keeping himself steady. Her heart thrummed. She would find him alive. He had to be. The next part of this trail was the worst, it hugged the side of the cliff with no r
A large gust of wind shook the tent, waking Garin. His head pounded but at least he wasn't freezing anymore. In fact, he was incredibly warm and suddenly aware of the soft body pressed against his. He opened his eyes, thinking that it had been a dream. Her red curls were tousled all over the place, draping over her shoulders and his arm, which was very much asleep underneath her head. He realized he had been holding his breath, afraid to wake her. Her breathing was slow and steady, she still slept. Without waking her, he pulled his arm from underneath her head and rubbed it vigorously, trying to get some feeling back into it. Glancing down at her sleeping face, he figured the pins and needles were worth it. He swept his hand across her face, brushing away a stray curl. Yellow eyes snapped open and stared at him. He drew his hand back quickly as if he had been stung. "Sorry," he murmured, embarrassed. Her face was also flushed as she struggled out of the sleeping bag. He found h