Maybe I could just have one little taste of his lips? It surely couldn’t make my predicament any more worse off, could it?
As my head and heart argue against each other, our lips are about to meet. A vivid image flashes across my mind—the memory of Brad's rough grip, the grazing of my back against the tree, the forceful punch against its trunk. I flinch and duck as if evading the blow. My breath quickens, and my eyes widen with fear and worry.
‘Rose? What is it?’ Warrick asks with evident concern. ‘Why did you pull away, and why are you cowering like this? You’re acting like I was about to hurt you?’ he says.
Troubled by my reaction, he extends his hand to cup my tear-stained face, but I instinctively step aside, keeping a safe distance between us. I turn and start walking back towards the camp, feeling his bewildered gaze on me.
'Rose, did I do something to scare you?' he asks with worry.
I stop walking and face him, ‘All of this scares me, Warrick. The idea of you and me being mates scares me. Not being able to find a blossom fox scares me. Being here in Felderia scares me. Returning to my world scares me,’ I reply and turn back around, but my feet stay rooted to the ground.
I can feel Warrick’s body heat emitting from him, just a mere inch away behind me. I can sense his urge to wrap me in his arms, but he doesn’t. I fight my own lustful urge to turn around and lean into his masculine chest.
'I want to understand why you fear all this,' he says softly.
I glance to my left, where the sun is gracefully setting, casting gold and pink colours across the sky. 'It doesn't matter why. What matters is that I retrieve the blossom fox flower and that you accept that we can never be together,' I reply and walk ahead.
Warrick’s silence as he watches me walk away is almost deafening, like souls clawing to get inside my body, like wraiths. I quiver at the thought and think of the one that tried to enter my mouth back in Gravehaven.
I hear the misery in Warrick’s voice. ‘You’re going the wrong way to find a blossom fox,’ he says.
I turn to see him walking solemnly in a different direction and follow him until we arrive at a secluded spot on a hill with dense shrubs and many trees.
The sky gives way to the velvety embrace of nightfall, and the moon rises in all its celestial glory, casting a soft glow upon the landscape.
Warrick lies on his stomach, motioning for me to join him in the grass. With cautious steps, I settle down, ensuring there's a respectable distance between us. We peer over the hill's edge together, gazing into the expanse before us.
In the distance, majestic snowy mountains rise like sentinels, their peaks kissed by the moonlight. The snow reflects the gentle glow, transforming into a mesmerizing cascade of shimmering crystals. Just before the mountains, a glimmering area captures our attention, sparkling like a diamond in the night.
'Is that the Silverpeak Mountains?' I whisper, my voice barely audible.
Warrick turns to me, surprise evident in his eyes. 'How did you know?' he asks, genuine curiosity colouring his tone.
I offer a small smile. 'Before we arrived here, Xander made sure we were well-versed in Felderia's geography using his holographic map. He didn't want us stumbling around clueless and raising suspicion. So, we familiarised ourselves enough to pass as locals,' I explain.
'Smart move on Xander's part,' Warrick acknowledges. 'And yes, that is indeed the Silverpeak Mountains. The sparkling area before it is Diamond Lake.'
I raise an eyebrow. 'The mythical water nymph is said to reside there, right?'
Warrick's smile widens. 'Mythical, you say? Perhaps it's time to reconsider what you believe.'
I raise a sceptical eyebrow. 'Have you actually met her, then?'
He chuckles softly, the sound carrying a hint of mystery. 'I've encountered many beings and creatures in Felderia. Who's to say what's real and what's merely a myth?'
'You're avoiding the question,' I note, a teasing lilt in my voice.
Before Warrick can respond, a rustling sound emanates from the bush beside me. Startled, I let out a squeal and instinctively scramble back, finding myself pressed against Warrick's solid frame. Ignoring the electric tension between us is a near-impossible task.
Warrick glances over my shoulder, his expression calm. Suddenly, a charming pink and white flufflehorn emerges from the foliage, wiggling its button nose. Relief floods through me, and I relax as Warrick moves to my side. He extends his palm, inviting the adorable creature to approach.
'Hello there, little one. It's been years since I've seen one of your kind,' Warrick says, his voice filled with warmth and fondness.
The flufflehorn wiggles its tail in delight, hopping onto Warrick's hand and arm without fear. I watch in awe as he brings the magical creature to his chest, cuddling it gently while tenderly stroking its fur. The flufflehorn emits a contented trilling sound, basking in the affection.
'It's not afraid of you?' I ask with surprise.
Warrick glances at me, confusion evident in his gaze. 'Why would it be? Not everyone in Felderia fears me,' he responds, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness.
I watch as he gazes at the stars and finds his way to a nearby tree. He leans against it, still cradling the now slumbering flufflehorn. I reposition myself, settling in front of Warrick, our eyes meeting in the moonlit night.
'If you were scared of me, you wouldn't be following me,' he points out softly.
I take a deep breath, contemplating his words. 'I'm not scared of you as a person, Warrick. I'm just... afraid of what might happen between us,' I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looks at me intently, his eyes searching mine. 'Can you tell me why?' Warrick's voice resonates with gentleness and sincerity, beckoning me to open up.
His gaze remains fixed on me, searching for answers within the depths of my eyes. The fear pulsates through my veins as the thought of opening up about Brad threatens to consume me. But I push those thoughts aside, unwilling to confront them just yet. With a desperate attempt to change the subject, I shift the conversation back to the task at hand. 'How much longer until we find a blossom fox?' I hastily interject.
Warrick's brows knit together, recognising my evasion.
Disappointment tinges his voice as he remarks, 'You're avoiding the question.'
Meeting his unwavering gaze, I summon the courage to reply. 'I think it's obvious that I don't want to talk about it,' I assert, with a sense of defensiveness and vulnerability.