Chapter 4

The Pulse of Desire

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The night clung to the Hollow Glen like a velvet shroud, thick and intoxicating, and Aella felt it press against her skin in a way she had never experienced. Every heartbeat, every shiver of the leaves, seemed attuned to her own rhythm, echoing the pulse of her rising anxiety and something else. Something she had not yet named but could feel tightening in her chest whenever Thalen’s golden eyes lingered on her too long.

She followed him silently, fingers brushing against the ancient roots that twisted like serpents beneath her feet. The forest hummed beneath her palms, and she sensed the raw power of the Heartwood still thrumming in her veins. Each pulse seemed to make her more aware of the energy radiating from Thalen as well. There was something about him… the commanding strength, the wolf-born dominance, the way the forest itself seemed to bend toward him that made her stomach clench, her pulse quicken.

They moved cautiously through a narrow corridor of trees whose trunks were knotted and thick with glowing moss. Moonfire illuminated their path in soft silver, casting long, sinuous shadows that flickered like living fingers along the undergrowth. Even in the gentle glow, Thalen’s figure seemed impossibly tall, impossibly magnetic. His presence made her aware of every inch of herself, the way her shawl clung to her shoulders, the quickening rhythm of her heartbeat, the warmth pooling in her chest whenever he was near.

“You’ve grown stronger,” he said suddenly, voice low and intimate, echoing softly across the hush of the forest. He didn’t need to turn to see her, his senses were attuned to her as acutely as the trees themselves.

Aella’s breath hitched. “I… I think I am,” she admitted, fingers curling instinctively around the rough bark of a nearby root. “But it still feels… overwhelming. Like the forest knows I’m inexperienced.”

Thalen’s golden eyes softened just enough to make her stomach tighten. He crouched slightly, letting his height shrink near hers, but the aura of authority never faltered. “The forest does not mistake power,” he murmured, stepping closer, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “It senses intent. And yours… is unshakable. Stronger than you realize.”

She wanted to respond, to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. The forest itself seemed to pulse in agreement with him, sending tingles up her arms and down her spine. Her heart raced not from fear, but from the magnetic pull of his presence. Every instinct she had, human or otherwise, whispered a warning… danger, forbidden, perilous. And yet another voice, deeper and more primal, whispered back: desire, connection, need.

A low rustle cut through the air, and Aella’s focus snapped outward. Thalen stiffened, ears flicking, body coiling like a spring ready to strike. The forest responded immediately, branches bending slightly to obscure them, roots rising to form natural barricades against unseen eyes.

“They’re close,” Thalen said, voice a growl now, carrying the wolf’s authority that made her knees weak. “Ferals. Drawn by the disturbance we caused last night.”

Her stomach knotted. The Ferals were dangerous, unpredictable, and they had grown more aggressive over the past nights. Aella had seen them flee before, but never in numbers or with coordinated intent. The forest’s pulse quickened beneath her palms as if warning her of imminent danger.

Thalen crouched slightly, brushing a strand of hair from his face in a movement so casual yet intimate that it made her chest tighten. “We need to act carefully,” he murmured. “But this is your moment. I cannot… must not… do everything for you. You need to feel the forest, command it, understand it.”

Aella swallowed. “I… I’m not sure I can,” she admitted, though her fingers itched against the roots, eager to summon the power she felt thrumming in her veins. “It’s… alive, and I feel everything—the fear, the anger, the hunger—and it’s too much sometimes.”

Thalen’s hand brushed against hers, accidental or perhaps deliberate. The heat of contact shocked her, and she gasped softly, jerking her hand back before she could analyze what had just happened. His golden gaze flicked downward at her fingers, and a slow, teasing smirk curved his lips.

“You are learning,” he murmured. “And fear is part of it. Desire, hesitation, tension… they sharpen the connection. They make it real. They make you real to the forest.”

Her cheeks flushed. Desire? The word reverberated in her mind with dangerous clarity. She wanted to speak, to protest, to push him away, but the words tangled in her throat. Her pulse raced, not entirely from fear.

The first Ferals appeared suddenly from the shadows a trio of twisted wolves, their red eyes glowing, teeth bared, claws scraping the forest floor. They froze when they saw Thalen, snarling, but hesitation filled their movements. They could sense Aella as well, the forest’s choice, the power emanating from her. And that hesitation gave her the moment she needed.

“Now,” Thalen whispered, his eyes locking onto hers. “Feel it. Move with it. Command it.”

Aella closed her eyes, letting the pulse of the Heartwood surge through her again. She extended her hands, and roots shot upward from the ground, twisting and coiling around the Ferals’ legs. Moonfire flared beneath them, scorching fur but careful not to maim. The creatures yelped, struggling against the roots, hissing in frustration and fear.

Thalen stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Good… feel it, let it flow through you.”

The contact made her body flush, heat pooling low in her belly, and she shivered involuntarily. She felt the surge of energy not just from the forest, but from him, the proximity, the unspoken power he held over her. Desire and adrenaline intertwined in a heady mix that made her pulse race and her mind reel.

The Ferals fled, bound and subdued by the forest’s will and by her own. Aella staggered back, breathless, her body trembling from exertion and something else entirely. Thalen’s hands were at her waist in an instant, steadying her, golden eyes burning with unspoken intensity.

“You did it,” he said softly, voice low, intimate, carrying both praise and something more dangerous. “You commanded the forest… and it obeyed you.”

Her cheeks flushed, not just from exertion. “I… I didn’t know I could,” she whispered, aware of how close they were. The heat of him pressed against her, and she felt the magnetic pull stronger than ever, impossible to resist.

Thalen’s lips hovered just above hers, close enough to feel the warmth, close enough that every nerve in her body screamed. “You are more than you realize,” he murmured, golden gaze locked on hers. “And more than the forest realizes as well. This… this connection… it is dangerous, forbidden… and utterly irresistible.”

Her breath caught. Forbidden. The word hung in the air like a spell. She knew it—knew the danger of feeling this, of wanting him, of letting the forest bond them together so completely. Yet every instinct, human and wolf-born, screamed in agreement… I want him. I need him.

Before she could respond, a low growl interrupted them. The forest shifted violently as another, larger Ferals pack emerged, drawn by the residual pulse of her magic. Thalen stiffened instantly, wolf instincts flaring. “We don’t have time for hesitation,” he growled. “Step back… but keep your focus. Channel the forest’s strength.”

Aella’s legs trembled as she rose, her hands still tingling from the pulse of the Heartwood. The forest had quieted for a moment, but the shadows beneath the twisted roots seemed alive, coiling and stretching in anticipation. She could feel them—Ferals were still near, watching, waiting. And somehow, the forest knew that they were not done testing her.

Thalen stepped closer, his presence a magnetic force that made her breath hitch. His golden eyes scanned the clearing before settling on her. “You must learn to trust yourself, Aella,” he murmured, voice low, vibrating against the raw edges of the night. “The forest feels your hesitation. Fear weakens the command.”

“I… I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, though her hands itched to reach for the roots again. The forest seemed to pulse in response, coaxing her, whispering its encouragement. She wanted to listen, wanted to obey, wanted… something more that she couldn’t name without feeling the heat rise in her chest.

Thalen’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the alpha in him seemed to retreat behind a more human warmth. “You can,” he said. “And you will. But you are not alone.”

A shiver ran through her not from the night air, which was warm and thick, but from the intimacy of his words. He stepped so close that she could feel the heat radiating off him. Her pulse quickened, a dangerous rhythm that mirrored the forest’s own. Every instinct whispered that what they were feeling was forbidden, perilous… yet irresistible.

The shadows shivered again, and this time Aella didn’t need Thalen to warn her. The forest’s pulse screamed, the roots beneath her hands curling and lashing instinctively. From the darkness, a massive Ferals pack surged forward, their glowing red eyes locking onto the Heartwood and, instinctively, on her.

Thalen moved, a blur of motion, his body shifting fluidly as he shifted partially into wolf form—a dark, terrifying silhouette of sinew and muscle, golden eyes blazing. “Aella! Focus the Heartwood!” he commanded. His voice was low, authoritative, intimate sending a thrill racing through her veins that had nothing to do with fear.

She inhaled sharply, steadying herself. The pulse of the Heartwood thrummed beneath her fingers, stronger, wilder. The roots twisted and writhed, shooting upward to form a barrier between them and the Ferals. Moonfire flared, bright arcs of silver light illuminating the pack, scorching them just enough to make them hesitate without harming the forest itself.

The Ferals hesitated, snarling, claws scraping the soft earth. Thalen’s hand brushed hers again as he leaned close to guide her motion. The contact was brief but electric, sending shivers racing along her spine, igniting a heat deep in her core that had nothing to do with the night chill. “Steady… flow with it,” he whispered. “Let the Heartwood respond to your intent, not your fear.”

Her fingers flexed, roots coiling more aggressively now, her power growing stronger with each breath. The Ferals yelped, stumbling over the roots as the moonfire flared around them. And then, as if sensing her connection, they retreated, slinking back into the shadows with a hiss of fury and caution.

Aella sank to her knees, trembling, the forest pulsing beneath her in a heartbeat that mirrored her own. Thalen knelt beside her, hand lingering over hers warm, grounding, intoxicating. “You did it,” he murmured. “You truly commanded the forest.”

Her cheeks flushed, not from exertion. “I… I can’t believe I did that,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to their hands brushing, heat pooling low in her belly. Every nerve screamed with the intimacy of it, the closeness, the forbidden thrill of standing near him… of touching him, even indirectly.

Thalen’s lips curved, just slightly, a smirk that held promise, danger, and something unspeakably intimate. “Believe it,” he said, voice a low rumble that vibrated through her chest. “And understand this: the forest and I are linked to you now. Every thought, every heartbeat, every movement echoes in us. You are… bound to us in ways that will test everything you are.”

Aella’s pulse hammered. Bound. Desire. Danger. The words mingled in her mind, impossible to separate, and she shivered. Part of her wanted to step back, to deny this connection. But the forest thrummed beneath her, affirming, urging her forward. And Thalen… Thalen’s presence was like wildfire, intoxicating, consuming, dangerous.

A sudden rustle drew their attention. From the shadows, another creature emerged, larger than the ones before, twisted and corrupted, with fur blackened like burned ash and eyes like molten gold. It was not a Feral she had ever seen a creature born of ancient corruption, the dark remnants of Nightbrae’s oldest curses.

Thalen rose, shifting fully into wolf form in a fluid motion that left Aella breathless. The golden light of his eyes burned through the night, and the air seemed to tremble at the sheer presence of his power. “This is no ordinary Feral,” he growled. “It is older… stronger… and it senses you. It wants to break the bond.”

Aella’s chest tightened. The pulse of the Heartwood surged violently beneath her hands, almost as if in fear. She felt the heat of Thalen beside her, the power in him, the dangerous magnetism that drew her closer than reason should allow. Her pulse was erratic, mirroring the wild rhythms of the forest, and desire and fear tangled into something almost unbearable.

“You can stop it,” Thalen whispered, his voice low, intimate, his breath brushing her ear. “But you must focus… on the pulse of the forest… and on your own.”

She closed her eyes, inhaling the rich, electric scent of the living woods, feeling Thalen’s warmth at her side, sensing the raw power that hummed between them. Her hands pressed firmly into the roots, energy surging from her fingertips. The forest responded immediately, twisting and curling, wrapping the corrupted creature in a cage of living wood. Moonfire flared again, brilliant arcs of silver light burning across the clearing.

The creature struggled, teeth snapping, claws scraping, but the roots held firm. And then… Thalen stepped closer, wolf-form shadow blending into her periphery, until his body brushed hers in a way that sent a thrill through her entire being. His lips were so near her hair, his breath warm against her neck. “Focus on me,” he murmured, voice low, commanding, intimate. “On us. On the bond. The forest will obey if we are united.”

The words, the proximity, the magnetic heat of him, unbalanced her completely. Her hands flexed, roots lashing faster, stronger, weaving a prison around the corrupted creature. And as the last of the shadows faded into submission, her body shivered not just from exertion, but from the forbidden closeness, the undeniable electricity of standing next to him.

Thalen shifted back, wolf form blending seamlessly into human again, towering over her with a golden gaze that made her pulse erratic. “You are… extraordinary,” he whispered, voice a dangerous caress. “And dangerous. To them… and to me.”

Aella swallowed, breathless, heat pooling in places she didn’t dare acknowledge. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she whispered. “I… feel… so much.”

“Good,” he murmured, stepping closer, so close she could feel the warmth of his body in the night air. “Feeling is part of power. Desire, fear, hesitation… they sharpen you. They make the bond stronger. They make… us stronger.”

Her breath caught. Us. The word hung between them like the pulse of the Heartwood, impossible to ignore, impossible to deny. Every instinct told her it was forbidden, perilous, dangerous and utterly irresistible.

A rustle in the distance reminded them both that danger was never far in Hollow Glen. Thalen’s gaze shifted briefly, warning and commanding. “We must move deeper,” he said, voice low, authoritative, but with a hint of something unspoken. “There is more the forest wants to show you… and more you must face. Together.”

Aella nodded, her pulse still racing, body still tingling from the closeness, the magic, the forbidden tension. She rose, brushing off her skirt, hands still warm from the Heartwood’s pulse, and followed him into the depths of Hollow Glen.

The shadows twisted around them, alive and watchful, and the forest itself seemed to lean in, eager, expectant. The air between Aella and Thalen was thick with unspoken desire, dangerous, forbidden, but undeniably intoxicating.

And for the first time, she realized that the forest—and Thalen—had changed her completely. She was no longer just a village herbalist. She was a force, a conduit, a forbidden flame burning hotter than she had ever imagined.

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TBC.