“Hello old friend.”
Opening my eyes, I gazed at the rare monstrous tree towering over me with its silver leaves and graying gnarled branches. Its sharp, thorny teeth grinned widely at me, slick amber sap oozing from each pointed tip, and dripping down his gigantic trunk of a body.
One drop of that sap in my system would render me cursed forever. Bound to the weretree for all eternity as a starving, restless, wolf, guarding its master.
Except, I did not fear this one, we had met once before. Back when I was a young fae of ten summers with a fanciful goal to spend the rest of my life as a wolf with a powerful werewood tree. Together we would rule these very woods. Free and vicious. All would fear us.
I spent three weeks in the Wildwoods, dodging my mothers guards at every turn, in search of werewood tree that would agree to bite me. When he finally revealed himself to me, he laughed andtold my faeling self that we would one day meet again, and that my request of him would be much different.
I smiled back at its thorny grin. “So the time has finally come for us to meet again has it?”
His gnarled silver glowing eyes blinked and his body creaked with his deep laughter. “Little shadow, you have grown. Do you still wish to be a wolf, I wonder?”
I shrugged. “As fun as it does sound, I do believe the goddess has different plans in store for me.” I hitched my thumb over the unconscious shifter suspended in the air by my shadows.
The weretree’s large canopied limbs, full of lush silver leaves stretched over us, and shrouded us from the rest of the forest. “So the trees tell me. But yes, the goddess does have other plans for you, little shadow.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “What do you know?”
His silver eyes flashed. “You will have all your answers soon enough.”
I sighed with resignation. “If you won’t tell me then at least take this nuisance off my hands. He might be a tasty bite. What do you suppose happens to a shifter when bitten?”
He shook with silent laughter and circular silver spiked leaves fell from his quivering branches. I plucked one from my hair and watched it fall to the canopy floor. The gnomes would appreciate this boon. They particularly loved werewood leaves. Their spikes made the perfect weapons for their tiny war games.
“We don’t bite shifters. They are difficult to control during transition and never taste pleasant enough for us to risk it.”
I sniffed. “No I suppose not, they are scum after all. It may be easier to just kill him.”
More leaves fell from laughter and I brushed them off with mild annoyance. Yes, the gnomes were going to have a field day. I’d have to prepare myself the next time I traveled through these parts.
“Except you have not killed him, unlike the others that met your blade here.”
“Yet. I have not killed him yet, werewood.”
His silver eyes flared knowingly again. “There will be a time where you crave to be with this one more than you crave his death and even your own. In this, you will find it very difficult to kill him.” The werewood groaned before a brown leather satchel appeared before me, hanging from one of his great gnarled branches. “Take this. I have fulfilled my promise to the Golden One and kept it safe. I will give it to you for safekeeping until he awakens.”
I raised a brow. I had so many questions but I took the shifter's traveling bag anyway. My fingers twitched to look inside. “You know him then? This Golden One? Who is he and how do I not know of him?”
The thorny mouth of the werewood tree spread into a predator-like smile and his silver eyes glowed with dark humor. “Did I not tell you that you’d ask something much different the next time we met?” His great silver branches groaned loudly as he chuckled. “We will not meet again, little shadow, but I will be watching.”
I frowned. “Watching?”
The werewood chuckled mysteriously again, “All of Faerie is watching you, little shadow.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I narrowed my eyes on him.
The great weretree just stared back. Awkward silence filled the eerie Wildwoods and then, in a flash, he was just gone. Dissolving into the darkened woods as quickly as he came.
Gripping the satchels strap with annoyance, I growled. “Do your best not to watch too closely, old friend, you’re creepy enough face to face.”
In the distance the groans of the werewood could be heard once again…laughing at me.
Slinging, the brown leather bag over my shoulder, its weight remarkably light for someone as big as him traveling, I turned to look at the sleeping shifter floating on a black cloud of shadows. Looking at him now reminded me of a human fairytale I heard once. Except that was a princess and ended with a kiss.
I rolled my eyes again—humans.
“Let’s get this over with.” I waved at the shadows and I steered off into the direction of my hidden cabin.
