As Janie is about to use her magic to lift all the sticks from the ground, I place my hand on hers. ‘Let’s do this the old fashion way,’ I smile.
She returns the smile and nods.
Engrossed in our task, Janie seizes the opportunity for conversation. As we bend over, collecting sticks, she turns to Imogen, her curiosity brimming. 'So, Imogen,' Janie begins, 'Xander explained to me last night that a bloodflame for a vampire is the same as a warlock, witch or werewolf having a mate. Weren't you freaked out when you realised you were mated with a vampire? Does it not hurt when he bites and drinks from your neck? Aren't you worried about having a vampire in our world, living among us?' Her words spill forth without restraint.
Imogen chuckles a melodic sound that dances through the air. 'Are you kidding?' she responds, her voice filled with affectionate amusement. 'I don't know what it was, but when I first saw vampires, I couldn't tear my eyes away from them. I found myself constantly needing to fan my face. And when Orelious and I locked eyes, I experienced the most peculiar sensation. It felt like a thousand butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Then, when he touched my wrist, it was as if fire ignited for a fleeting moment, followed by an exhilarating rush of tingles coursing through my body. All I wanted was to be close to him, touch him, kiss him, and make love to him. When he bit me for the first time, yes, it hurt for a few seconds. But then, it intensified the tingling sensations I already had, creating an indescribable pleasure. I am overjoyed that he will be returning with us through the portal to live. He poses no danger to anyone there. He only wants to be with me and drinks from me anyway. So, there's no need to worry about him going on a blood-drinking spree, feasting upon random individuals,' she concludes with a joyous laugh.
Imogen's reassurances bring a sense of relief to Janie. 'That's assuring to know. I guess,' Janie shrugs, accepting the bond with Orelious.
We continue walking further west without realising it as Imogen and Janie talk and giggle about their mates together, and the moon has just risen. I feel like a third wheel as they talk about their mates. Holding eight sticks bundled under one arm. With my free hand, I feel my phone in the pocket of my cloak. The memories of Brad’s actions towards me, his sweet and dire words, haunt my mind.
Suddenly, Imogen's voice cuts through the haze of my thoughts, calling my attention back to the present moment. 'Rose, Rose!' she shouts, concern lacing her tone.
Startled, I snap out of my trance of depression. 'Hey, what?' I respond, my voice tinged with distraction.
Imogen's gaze softens as she speaks, 'We were talking to you, and you had zoned out.'
‘Sorry, my mind was somewhere else,’ I frown.
'It's okay, Rose. We were just mentioning that we can't spot the camp from here. It seems we may have ventured too far,' Janie says.
I realise our predicament, but I have a solution. 'No worries. We can simply retrace our steps. Besides, I should be able to track our scent trail and guide us back,' I assure them, hoping to alleviate any lingering worries.
Relief washes over Janie's features as she responds, 'Oh, good. Let's head back then.'
As an enticing scent fills the air, I drop my bundle of sticks, instinctively drawn to its alluring aroma—Imogen and Janie exchange odd glances.
'Do you guys smell that?' I ask, a mix of awe and excitement in my voice.
Imogen furrows her brow and shakes her head while Janie follows suit, her expression mirroring confusion. 'I don't smell anything,' they reply almost simultaneously.
'It's like sandalwood, patchouli, and musk,' I describe, the words tumbling from my lips. The same butterflies that Imogen spoke of flutter in my stomach, urging me to follow the elusive scent.
Without hesitation, my feet propel me forward, one step after another, as if guided by an invisible force along the trail of the captivating fragrance. Imogen and Janie call out, their voices are full of concern, attempting to halt my impulsive pursuit.
'Wait, Rose! Where are you going?' Janie's voice echoes through the air.
I stop and turn to face them. 'I have to follow it. It must be the scent of the blossom fox. Xander's mother said it was the most amazing fragrance she had ever encountered, right?' I explain, my voice resolute.
Janie nods, comprehending the significance of the moment.
Imogen interjects. 'Let's find Xander and Orelious first, Rose. It could be too dangerous on our own.'
But my determination knows no bounds. 'No, I can't wait. I don't want to risk losing the scent. You two go back. I will follow your scents once I retrieve the flower,' I assert, my voice tinged with determination.
'No, Rose! It's too dangerous!' Janie's voice rings out in a desperate plea, but I've already bolted into a run.
As I traverse the mystical woods, shadows cast eerie patterns, and the mist weaves its ephemeral dance. Branches swipe at me, leaving minor scratches, but I pay them no heed. My sole focus is on reaching the source of the captivating scent. With each passing moment, the fragrance grows stronger, pulsating through my senses. My heart pounds erratically in my chest, a potent mix of anticipation and excitement coursing through my veins. I'm on the brink of finally capturing the rare blossom fox.
But fate has other plans. Suddenly, my foot snags on a gnarled root, sending me sprawling and tumbling down a steep hill. Rocks, logs, and debris collide with my body, inflicting sharp pain as I careen uncontrollably. The chaos of the descent consumes me until, at last, I come to a jarring halt in a vast, circular clearing, the very heart of the mysterious woodland.
Suddenly, from the depths of darkness, teeth snap and snarl at me, piercing the air with an ominous warning. My screams echo through the clearing as I hastily roll onto my stomach, spitting out damp leaves that have found their way into my mouth. I struggle to rise, intending to flee, but my feet betray me, causing me to slip and lose my footing. My gaze locks with the massive black fury monster that looms before me, its blood-red eyes seething with an insatiable hunger. Yet, something restrains the beast, preventing it from reaching me.
As I push myself back, creating a small buffer of space, my heart pounds in my chest, threatening to burst from the confines of my ribcage. I place a trembling hand over my chest, attempting to steady my racing pulse. Taking slow, deliberate breaths, I witness the creature's relentless struggle against the mysterious, thick chain that binds it to the ancient tree at the centre of the clearing. To my astonishment, I realise that the chain is not made of mundane metal but rather of magic.
As long as I maintain my distance, the beast remains confined, unable to close the gap between us. I sit silently, observing its wild snarls and growls, a mixture of fear and empathy flooding my being. Saliva drips from its menacing jaws. Each drop a reminder of its ferocity. Gradually, the creature ceases its relentless resistance against the chain, fixing its gaze upon me, still growling and snarling, albeit with a lower intensity.