Page 12 of A Touch of Shadows

That was the problem. And it was due to the darkness, the power of the Nox and the depths of the darkwood, the wildness that raced through her veins. She knew that need, that hunger, but never had it overwhelmed her with such ease.

Because with him, touching him, it was so much stronger, so much more than anything she had ever encountered.

She’d tried to drive the darkwood back with a few words of the othertongue and somehow that had just made everything worse, like she had stirred it up and it was determined to teach her a lesson for her temerity.

But that hadn’t been the worst of it. He’d kissed her and she was lost in his arms. Helpless. Like a lovesick fool in an instant.

Pol had kissed her, but that had been an awful fumbling thing, all tongue and teeth and hot breath, all about him and his needs. But this…

Too much. That’s what it was. Far too much.

She shoved the stranger back as best she could and then, when he surged towards her again, blind with desire, she hit him as hard as she could.

The sound of the slap was like a branch breaking underfoot. It seemed to set her free.

‘You have got to wake up!’

The world around them went silent. Terribly, horribly silent and she felt the whole forest move.

Not the forest, but the darkness within this patch of darkwood. The thing that had always lurked there, waiting for her to give in.

Elodie had been right, all her warnings, all her dire predictions. Don’t spend too long in the depths of the darkwood, little bird. Don’t lose yourself in there, don’t give in to your passions, don’t let it lead you astray.

Always the warnings. Never an indication of what she should do if it all went wrong. Like this. No hints on how to get out of it.

The traveller from the village looked dazed, like he’d been struck on the head with a large rock, rather than slapped by a woman half his size.

The pupils of his eyes had gone wide, eating away the blue to a narrow rim and his mouth – that beautiful sensual mouth that had done such things so as to drive her to distraction – hung open. He tried to focus on her, frowning, and ran a shaking hand through his long chestnut hair. Then he reached out once more, as if drawn by an unseen force.

His fingers brushed against her face again, the sensation intoxicating. She felt herself bending towards him again, like a cat seeking his caress. He buried his hand in the depths of her hair…

Her hair! She could feel it against her neck. Not too long. Not yet. What had she done? How much magic had been flowing through the air around the two of them? She pushed him back again, hurriedly, and felt for her knife.

His eyes fixed on it as she drew it and survival instincts finally kicked in. She hadn’t meant to threaten him with it but… well, if it worked, that was good, wasn’t it?

So why did she feel bereft?

‘What—what have I done?’ he murmured, blinking at her, dazed. He looked heartbroken, as if he had failed her somehow and that was the worst thing he could imagine. Wren got to her feet and he struggled to follow her.

There wasn’t time for this. Wasn’t time for anything. They were too deep in the darkwood and it was far too strong. It had already gathered strength from him. She could feel the fragments of the Nox drawing together, the sense of it like razors against her skin as it reinforced itself. The shadow kin would follow, and soon.

Grabbing the horse’s reins in one hand and his arm in the other, she dragged them both to their feet and pitched forward, through the trees.

Briars snagged at their feet, brambles pulling at their clothes, but Wren didn’t pause. She couldn’t. They had to keep moving as quickly as possible. It was only when they fell into the clearing by the path back to Thirbridge that she let herself breathe again.

It was quiet here. They were clear of the darkwood. It was safe. Or as safe as it could be.

The remnants of the Nox that lingered in the darkwood pulled back. But they were still there, still watching, their hunger unabated.

She let go of the man as quickly as possible. Touching him, feeling his warmth and his strength, was a really bad idea. There was something about him, something like an addiction just waiting for her to fall prey to.

‘Where are we?’ he asked, his voice a little surer now. A good sign.

That had been close. For both of them.

‘We’re clear,’ she said, bending forward to catch her breath. Her head was swimming.

‘You’re the boy from the village.’