Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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Aunt Ellena and Markel were so sweet together and obviously had fallen head over heels. I did feel slightly awkward to be standing here observing a moment of intimacy. However, I suspected, right now, my presence had faded into the background for them both. And I rubbed my fingers over my mouth to hide the elated grin.
Clearing my throat, Markel's startled gaze shot to mine, and he stood aside to let us pass through the doorway. I shut the door behind us and strode ahead, giving them privacy, even though I was dying to cast my senses wide and listen into their conversation.
However, in practice, it wasn't possible to give them that privacy. It was slow moving through the bustling corridors to the Servants' Quarters back door, and impossible not to catch their chuckling and the snippets of whispering between them as she proposed to assist him with Oswin and Dolcie's wedding cake.
Moths and tiny bugs fluttered around the dismal porch light as I stepped outside, my aunt and Markel following. While they remained at the doorway, I stopped further away at the edge of the porch steps, the stone scraping beneath my boots as I half-turned toward them while they said their farewells to each other. Darkness and light edged their figures, but even in the muted gloom they created in the narrow space between them, I could see my aunt's smile, the flash of teeth. "Goodnight, Markel."
She tipped back her head as he drew nearer. "Goodnight Ellena." His usually brusque voice softened by his reverent regard for my aunt. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, which had her eyelashes fluttering lower as a soft sigh released from her lips.
I freaking swooned.
"Enjoy your evening," Markel added, straightening and withdrawing a step.
Ducking my chin deeper into the scarf looped around my neck, I cozied into its warmth and walked down the steps. The grassy lawn was slippery beneath my feet and the amber light spilling from the mansion faded away as I entered the darkness.
The night sky was a blazing trail of starlight. A brisk breeze raked against my fingers clenched around my backpack's straps. The temperature had dropped dramatically and the air held a moist quality sweeping a veneer of dampness on my cheeks. The waning moon provided little natural light, so I bolstered it with my flashlight.
Aunt Ellena caught up, a bounce in her step as she drew flush. Her flashlight joined mine to weave ahead of us. The picnic basket hung by her side and my nostrils greedily inhaled the faint smell of coffee and chocolate.
Twenty minutes later we'd crossed the lawns and were well inside the Hemmlok Forest. Leaves skittered between my ankles borne on the wings of a wind that slithered like a snake. Twigs snapped underneath our boots and slender branches caught on our upper arms, swishing aside as we tramped along the narrow path winding upwards.
We reached the crest of the knoll and its outcropping of large flattened rocks. It sat above the forest's canopy giving us an unrestricted view of the sky. The soles of our boots gritted against the rough stone as we made our way to its edge which was softened with moss and lichen in olive hues.
