Page 6

S he had not screamed.

That single fact occupied my thoughts as I prepared more broth, adding herbs that would help ward off fever and restore her strength.

When Alice's eyes had first opened and focused on my face, I had braced myself for the inevitable terror, the screams that would shatter the peace of my cottage and drive home once again how utterly Other I was.

Instead, she had simply stared. Frightened, yes—I could smell the sharp scent of fear that had made my heart clench—but not hysterical. Not fleeing. She had looked at me as if trying to solve a puzzle rather than confronting a monster.

And when I had offered her broth, she had accepted it.

Had thanked me. Now she sat in my shirt, which draped over her small frame like a tent, and spoke to me as if I were simply a man who had helped her.

As if the tusks, claws, and fur were irrelevant details rather than the defining features that marked me as different.

"How long was I unconscious?" she asked, accepting the cup of broth from me.

"Several hours. The sun is setting now." I gestured toward the window, where I could see glimpses of purple sky through the canopy. "Your people at the farm will be worried."

Alice took a sip of broth. "Yes, I suppose they will be."

"I will take you there," I said. "When you're ready."

"I'm ready, now," Alice said softly, setting down the empty cup. "They'll be wondering where I am."

I nodded, though the words felt like stones in my chest. "Of course. You're strong enough to walk?"

She stood carefully, testing her balance. "I think so." She paused, looking around the cottage with curious eyes. "This is your home?"

"It is."

"It's... peaceful," she said, and there was something wistful in her voice. "You live here alone?"

The question was gently asked, without prying. "Yes. It's safer that way."

"Safer for whom?"

"For everyone." I met her eyes. "People fear what they don't understand, Alice."

She was quiet for a moment, studying my face. "You saved my life," she said finally. "That's all I need to understand."

The acceptance in her voice caught me off guard. I had expected questions, demands for explanations. Instead, she offered only gratitude.

She gestured toward the door. "I should go before someone comes looking."

I gathered her dried clothes from beside the fire and handed them to her.

“Come out when you’re ready,” I said, stepping outside.

I took a deep breath of the cool evening air, enjoying the comforting scents of dirt, rain, and growing things.

When Alice emerged a few minutes later, she looked like herself again.

Her hair was rebraided and she was wearing her work clothes.

Only the careful way she moved suggested anything unusual had happened.

"Ready?" I asked.

She nodded, then surprised me by stepping closer. "Heath... thank you again."

I ducked my head, gesturing toward the forest path. "We should go. It’ll be full dark soon."

The journey to the forest edge passed in relative silence, Alice following me along paths known only to woodland creatures and myself. I found myself unconsciously adjusting my stride to accommodate her shorter legs, staying close enough to catch her if she stumbled.

When we reached the boundary between forest and farmland, I stopped. The lights of Blackwood Farm glowed warmly in the distance, promising safety and normalcy.

"Can you make it from here?" I asked.

Alice looked toward the farm, then back at me. "Yes." She hesitated. "Will I... see you again?"

The question caught me off guard. "You want to?"

"I think I do," she said, sounding almost surprised by her own words. "If you don't mind."

Mind? I would have laughed if the situation were not so absurd. This lovely, kind woman was asking if I minded whether she wanted to see me again.

"I'm often in the forest near the far pasture," I said carefully. "If you ever need... assistance."

It was not an invitation, but it was not a refusal either. Alice smiled, the first real smile I had seen from her, and it transformed her entire face.

"Good night, Heath," she said softly.

"Good night, Alice."

I watched until she was safely within sight of the farm buildings before melting back into the forest shadows. Only then did I allow myself to consider the impossibility of what had just happened.

She wanted to see me again.

For the first time in years, I found myself looking forward to tomorrow.