Page 69 of Into the Heartless Wood
too rough.
I have cut the sides of his face.
He bleeds.
I wrench off of him.
The branches unwind,
vanish back into the earth.
All that covers us now
are the trees
and my mother’s
devouring
stars.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
OWEN
“IDID NOT MEAN TO HURT YOU,” SHE WHISPERS.
I gasp for breath, faintly aware of the pain pulsing in my cheeks. I touch them, and my fingers come away wet with blood. But that is nothing compared to the agony of the tree sirens’ song, blazing through me like a thousand stinging ants. And it is nothing compared to the feel of her body, pressed against mine, her lips on my lips, her power tethering me to the earth.
I am undone by her kiss.
I am undone byher.
And yet.
My mother isalive.Seren knew it all this time. And she never told me.
“I did not mean to hurt you,” she says again. Tears slide down her cheeks.
My gut clenches. “That doesn’t matter.” I wipe the blood away with the backs of my hands. I can still feel the echo of her mouth on mine. “You saved me.Again.”
She shudders in the wind that rips through the wood. She steps near me, closes the distance between us.
“I’m still going. To find my mother. To try to save her.” I square my jaw. I know how futile it is—if Seren doesn’t help me, I’ll die long before I reach my mother. But I still have to try.
Seren touches my temples, her fingers quick and cool. Her eyes fix on mine, and I remember the silvery magic that made me forget her, what feels like so long ago now. “Help me find her. Please.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, telling my heart firmly to bestill.“Don’t make me forget you.”
She jerks her hands back. A petal falls from her hair. “It is the only way I can be sure you will be safe.”
I cup her face in my hands, my fingers smoothing her cheeks. “I don’t want to be safe if it means forgetting you.”
“I do not want you to forget me,” she whispers.
“Then don’t make me. Help me find my mother.”
Around us, the wood laughs and rattles. Roots writhe under the ground. Trees lean toward us, reaching craggy fingers.
“I will take you to the heartless tree,” she says. “I will take you to find your mother. But you must understand, Owen. We cannot save her. We cannot restore her to what she was. Her soul is gone—she is empty of herself. The best you can hope for is that she will remember enough of her former life to know you, enough that you can bid her farewell.”
