‘Xander,’ Imogen says, deeply worried, ‘He is what I saw in the vision when I touched Rose at the tavern,’ she tells him.
Xander’s face drains of colour. He paces behind me with a wave of anger and worry far worse than I’ve ever seen from him. His whole body emits zaps of power and a dark mist as he talks to himself as if he has now gone mad. His hands cling to his hair in disbelief as I hear him mention Gretchen will not be happy about this. His hair is now dishevelled, and a look of worry now consumes him as his whole-body slumps forward onto his knees. He looks up at the night sky and asks the gods why this is happening to him. Why is he cursed so? I ignore his theatrics as I have my own worries to deal with. Warrick, the infamous werewolf who went against his allies to wipe out covens. Warrick, the beast, abandoned by his own kind, left a rogue who became feral and a danger to all. Warrick cursed to remain bound here in the witching woods in his wolf form for all eternity, but now broken by my touch, he stands before me in all his glory in his human form.
My breath quivers as I lock eyes with Warrick, a mix of determination and unease flickering within my gaze. I must summon every ounce of strength within me, fighting against the bond that threatens to consume my thoughts. I must remain focused on why I’m here—the quest of the blossom fox flower.
Warrick extends his hand for mine, but I step back and gaze sympathetically into his eyes, ‘Warrick, I’m sorry, but fate has made a mistake. A big, huge mistake. We cannot be mates. This is not my path, nor are you in my future. I-I can’t be here any longer. I have to go. Goodbye,’ I tell him, turning and looking away before I see his reaction. I feel guilty enough already without seeing the hurt I’m causing him.
I do the only thing that seems the most logical and appropriate thing to do. I run.
‘No! Wait!’ Warrick's desperate plea echoes in the distance, filled with anguish and confusion.
But I don’t stop. I sprint past my friends, they try to grab me, but I’m too fast. My head is swimming with everything that just happened. How could this be possible? Me, a mere human, not even born in this world, who stupidly drank a lycanthrope potion.
Finally, I skid to a stop at the edge of a cliff, nearly toppling over its precipice. 'Why are there so many blasted cliffs in this place?' I huff, frustration mingling with my exasperation. I sit there, gazing at the stars in despair, when a heart-wrenching howl pierces the air in the distance—a sound that can only belong to Warrick.
Although my body wants to return to Warrick, my head and heart say otherwise. I can’t give in to the pull of the bond. I have to remind myself why it's best not to have a partner and why it's best to stay away from Warrick. I pull my phone from my pocket and stare at the photo of Brad, then read all the messages while the moments we had spent together, good and bad, flash through my mind. As I’m done reassuring myself that not being in a relationship is the safest and best option, I hear many footsteps crunching against the stones and leaves.
I turn to face my friends, their sympathetic expressions mirroring the sorrow within me. Janie is the first to rush forward, enveloping me in a tight embrace, followed by Imogen. Tears stream down my face, dampening their shoulders as I weep in their arms. Meanwhile, Warrick's howls persist, pleading and desperate, as if he hopes to summon me back to him. Yet, I remain rooted, sitting on the ground with Imogen and Janie by my side. Orelious quietly makes a fire while Xander pats Mister Kal in his arms, troubled in thought.
'What happens now?' Imogen breaks the silence, her voice laced with uncertainty. All eyes turn to me, silently awaiting my response. 'Nothing changes,' I declare, my voice resolute. 'We will resume our search for the blossom fox tomorrow and return home.'
Xander wrestles with an internal struggle, an unspoken message that flickers across his eyes before ultimately deciding against sharing it. He nods in agreement. 'It is settled, then,' he says, retreating into the woods.
Later, Xander returns, bearing skinned and gutted meats, eliciting delight from everyone except me. My gaze remains fixed on the dancing flames before me. As the succulent aroma fills the air, reminiscent of lamb, my friends attempt to coax me into joining them, extending pieces of cooked meat my way. Though the scent is tantalising, I cannot bring myself to take a bite. I distance myself from the group, withdrawing the rolled-up blankets from my bag, rolling it out and huddling underneath.
Sleep eludes me throughout the night, leaving me weary and torn as the sun begins its ascent. We pack up our bedrolls, secure them onto our stags, and mount our steeds. Following Xander's guidance, I steer my stag to the North, urging it to carry me as far away from the West as possible.
Warrick's midnight blue eyes remain in my mind, haunting my thoughts. The intensity of his gaze, the desperate longing to be near me, only to be restrained by those enchanting chains— I struggle to shake off the thoughts. Snap out of it, Rose. Focus. I admonish myself, redirecting my attention to the task at hand—the search for the blossom fox. I inhale deeply, taking in the scents of the surrounding forest, committing them to memory. With each breath, I uncover new plants, fruits, and the presence of scaly creatures. Yet, every other scent is familiar, as if I've traversed this path before.
‘You’re going to have to track harder,’ Xander's voice breaks through my concentration.
‘I’m trying Xander, but all the smells are the same. There’s nothing new,’ I argue in frustration.
‘We can’t go to the Sylvan woods. We must find the blossom fox here, in this forest. Otherwise, we may have to consider returning to your world in your current state,' Xander warns.
I flinch at the thought. 'No, I won't go back until I have the flower. I can't remain like this forever,' I reply with desperation.
‘Then you better find that fox, and soon,’ he says, returning to mount his stag.