Page 20 of Whisper Woods (Legends of the Whisper Woods #3)

Seff

Like this place. Pretty . Wolf is pretty easy to please at the best of times, but it’s nice to know Tathys has his seal of approval. Though he could just be talking about Rafe’s bedroom. Or the bed in particular. I agree with him, though—about all of it. There is something about Tathys, like coming here has felt like coming home. I don’t know how to explain it.

And being with Rafe? Being with Rafe feels like the part of me that’s been lost in the world has finally been returned to my spirit.

Wolf rolls, allowing a stretch to take over his body until we’re twisting in the empty sheets.

Where’s Rafe? Wolf snaps to attention, nosing around the pillows to inhale as much of Rafe’s scent as possible. Then, for good measure, he burrows beneath the sheets to roll around in them too, ensuring the scent is all over him while marking that spot as his.

Wolf shoved his way through overnight, getting a little restless, and I’m trying not to listen to that shitty little voice in my head that is trying to tell me that Rafe waking up next to a surprise wolf is why Wolf and I woke up alone.

Time to give it up, buddy . I warn, trying to push my way back to the surface. We need to pee and I don’t exactly want to piss off Rafe’s housekeeper with Wolf taking a leak on the balcony plants like he has planned. Wolf pushes back, and for a moment there is a battle of wills until he finally relents.

The magic surges through me, reshaping my body. It’s electric, intense. And at the end I’m curled, naked and panting on the plush, emerald green rug on the floor. Goosebumps ripple over my skin, my body flushing hot and cold while the adrenaline leaves my body and my body and spirit realign .

It’s a fucking rush .

But my bladder is calling so I make my way to the bathroom, enjoying the pleasant ache in my body and running a finger over the coloured glass inlays on the chest of drawers as I go. I take a leak in the surprisingly Mundane toilet and wash my hands in the crazy ornate basin. It’s made of some kind of pearlescent shell like thing for the bowl with a fancy brass faucet. Thank the Gods they use faucets and not some fancy magic to call on the water like they do with the lights, otherwise I’d be screwed.

On our way back from the dragons yesterday, Brydon and I took a deep dive into how Tathys is built. Not, like, the magic side of things—though that’s a giant part of it, obviously—but once I started asking things like how they built the stacked up buildings in the town centre and how the plumbing worked, we’d gone down the rabbit hole together. The water flows directly from the hot springs and aquifers and cycles back through once used.

Magic is used to direct the water through the earth to the homes—which is where things are going wonky now. The water is not always flowing. The plumbing discussion then obviously led to questions about sewage and water purification but Rafe cut us off before we could get into it.

The basin is not even the nicest thing in the bathroom, not by a long shot. Because, just like the rest of the house, no expense has been spared. Small chandeliers hang from the tall, domed ceiling—the ceiling decorated with an insane seascape mural with sirens and mermaids and other sea beings worshipping Viestra , one of the Gods named by the Orun.

But the bath? Fuck me. The bath. It’s really more of a tiny pool. A tiny, round pool with a waterfall shower that usually runs continuously with perfectly heated water.

When the magic of Tathys wasn’t, like, failing and all that.

I’m still not totally sure why the magic isn’t back up and running at full capacity considering the walls have fallen. Theoretically, the Gods’ will has been filled, right?

It was one of the hotly debated topics at length the other day when we were hauled in to see all the head honchos of Tathys. Considering I didn’t understand, they didn’t either.

That doesn’t mean they didn’t have theories, though. From the exhaustion on the High Eminence’s face, it looked like they’ve gone over them a thousand times.

Some believed that there was a ritual that was to be completed to reform the connection to the Mundane. Some argued that the whole mess is actually a curse from outside forces—though none of the Orun or Tavishers or High Council record keepers has found anything that backed that theory.

Except Heylor. I don’t think he actually believed some mystical being in the Mundane managed to not only remember that Tathys existed—despite their mammoth warding—and managed to somehow curse them. But it was convenient to his argument that Tathys needed to preserve its sovereignty from the Mundane and restore the walls.

Others, the most sensible in my opinion, suggested simply that the God of the Whisper Woods needs time to heal.

Either way, the clock is ticking on Tathys and the Mundane. Decisions need to be made. Personally—and Wolf agrees with me, but he’s an act first, think never kind of wolf—I think Tathys is getting too caught up in the details and trying to understand rather than just moving with what is. But that’s easy for me to say. My entire world isn’t being turned upside down and inside out.

That is not my problem, though. Right now, my biggest concern is that the water is still running cold, which is why we didn’t jump in last night.

Kinda wish I could use it now, considering I’m still all delightfully sticky from last night, but it’s not meant to be. Instead, I find a cloth to wet and a towel and give myself a rather cool once over to get cleaned up. Disappointingly, the bites and scratches have already begun to fade. They’ll be gone entirely by lunch. Hopefully Rafe can give me some more tonight.

At least the quick wash saves me from Wolf’s protests about getting rid of Rafe’s scent he so diligently bathed us in. I haven’t lost his marks entirely.

I dig around in the drawers until I can find something that fits, managing to find a pair of pants that don’t threaten to bust open at the seams when I squeeze my ass into them and call the job done. Who needs shirts anyway ?

Wandering around Rafe’s house on my own does make me feel a little like a creeper. But I still feel at home. Maybe it’s Rafe’s scent everywhere that does it. It’s reassuring. But fuck, I can’t wait to find him. Wolf and I are both itching to just be close to him again.

I poke my head into a few of the different rooms upstairs. I know he’s not there, I can feel it, or more accurately, feel the lack of him, but I’m just being nosey.

There are a couple more bedrooms, and a room with a large piano-like instrument. Shaped like a semi-circle, it looks as though the player sits in the centre. Inside, rather than the strings you’d usually find, are cogs and wheels, and glass cylinders filled with a strange purple liquid that glow and sparkle kind of like the stars. I’ve never seen anything like it and I creep out of the room before I somehow accidentally break the delicate instrument by looking at it too hard.

I find the library by accident. The room is huge, with books lining shelves from the floor all the way to the impossibly high ceiling and several chairs of varying degrees of cosiness for reading. Along the back wall are doors leading out to the rear balcony, just like in Rafe’s bedroom. Only these doors—arched as is the Tathissian way—are inlaid with the most stunning glass butterfly.

It speaks to the builder in me. Okay, or I’m just too inquisitive for my own good as mum used to say over and over when I was little and getting into shit. But I still go and inspect the piece, running a loving hand over the metal framework around each tiny shard of glass.

That’s how I notice the books on the shelves.

I’d been expecting, I don’t know, ancient leather-bound tomes, or thick heavy classics filled with dry ass boring literature. But nope.

The lower shelves are filled— filled— with books and magazines from the Mundane. Well, colour me curious. The collection starts with a range of children’s books and then divides into more young adult paperbacks. There are shelves and shelves of non-fiction books on every topic you could imagine. Cooking, crafts, biographies, history. Even finance. One entire shelf is dedicated to gossip magazines—some years old. Shelves of fiction books, too. Every genre imaginable. Every so often I pull one out to have a peek before carefully replacing it.

That ’s how I find the porn.

Like, a lot of it too.

Whoever started the collection had a thing for old pulp-style erotica. I paw through the collection with giddy glee. Are these Rafe’s? They have to be; he said that his parents weren’t Tavishers, so unless they were trading for these—which, no judgement if they were—that means this is Rafe’s dirty porn stash.

Laughing to myself, I put the books back exactly as I found them, determined to come back and check it out with my freaky dragon man as soon as possible.

Maybe I can get him to read me the good bits while I blow him?

My plans for the evening settled, I switch tactics and begin the hunt for some food. Thankfully, the dining room is easy to find, and even though I’ve obviously slept through breakfast, there is a carafe of something steamy waiting and some pastries laid out next to them. Victorious in my mission, I pour a cup and grab a couple of the pastries and set out to find, well, anyone.

My search confirms what I already knew in that weird little pit in my chest, Rafe’s not in the house. I try to not be too disappointed, I mean, it’d be really shitty of me of all people to be judgemental about leaving without warning. And Rafe’s an important guy with the whole Tavisher thing. I have no doubt that he’ll be back as soon as he can.

Okay, maybe I have a teeny, tiny bit of doubt.

At least Brydon is here. I find him in their office, hunched over a desk tucked into the corner of the room, surrounded by piles of books.

“Hey Bry, how’s it going?” He jumps, his tail thumping painfully against the leg of the desk as it lashes out. The stack of books on the free side of the desk tumble, scattering over the floor causing Brydon to curse under his breath.

“Shit, man. Didn’t mean to scare you.” I apologise, squatting down to help him as he hurries to pick up the book. But he’s a nervous wreck, his shaking hands fumbling the books he’s trying to stack back up. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, just…” He stands, shoving the book pile hastily on the desk and waving his hand in the air before jamming it through his mullet. “Working.”

He doesn’t meet my eye, looking around nervously. One hand is crossed over his body protectively and the other picks at the back of his chair. I frown at him, trying to figure out if I’ve done something wrong. I can feel the heat of my embarrassment in my ears.

“Uh, yeah, well. Didn’t mean to interrupt you. Rafe’s just not in and I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.” I push through the awkwardness, plastering on my biggest smile before shoving half a pastry into my mouth. It works, and Brydon softens a little, a tentative smile creeping across his face.

Yeah, I got him. I do my little internal happy dance at getting my smile.

“Yeah, sorry. I should have come and checked or something. Rafe got called out on Tavisher business. He should be back soon. Take a seat if you want. Have a look around.” He nods his head to Rafe’s bigger desk to the centre of the room. “I’m really sure he won’t mind.”

I snicker at the sarcasm in Brydon’s voice as I take his advice. Setting my cup down and cramming the last of the pastry in my mouth, I scan the shelves of the office. Brydon’s watching me intently. It’s not in a sexual way. Like, he could be checking me out, but I doubt it. Not with the weird, intense energy he’s throwing off. It’s pinging off every single one of my hunting instincts, making me jittery.

It’s a pretty extreme turn around from the chill guy who shared a noodle bowl with me yesterday.

“I hope he doesn’t mind. I had a bit of a nosey around upstairs too. Found the library.” I admire the collection of treasures on the shelves. There are antiques from I’m guessing both Tathys and the Mundane, judging by some of the designs. Magical artefacts and items, including a cool-looking knife with a sick pearl-type handle and a metal chalice inscribed with some wild sigils. Skulls and feather collections, dragon teeth and shells.

And then, I realise with a loud laugh, Mundane stuff. A heap more of it. Stuffed animals, old soda cans, a themed popcorn tin from a movie nearly a decade old. There’s even a display of old cameras. I pick one up carefully, looking around at Brydon through the viewfinder to see him trying to contain his own smile. “I found his porn collection. It’s impressive.”

I click the button on the camera just as Brydon bursts into anxious laughter, and even though it makes a whirring-clicking noise, I don’t think it has any film in it. Which is a shame, because it would have been a good photo.

“Yes, it’s quite a collection. Finding it when I was a teenager probably did a lot in, uh, influencing my interest in the Mundane.”

Chuckling at Brydon’s admission, I put the camera back and decide to leave the rest of the shit alone, just in case I break it.

“Don’t you guys have porn here?” I settle myself in Rafe’s chair, enjoying the feel of the supple leather against my back. It makes me feel connected to him, being in his space like this, and eases a little of the ache of being away from him.

This whole “feelings” thing has me all sappy and pathetic and I really like it. I’ve always been a relationship kinda guy. It just never really worked out that way for me.

Brydon follows my lead, sitting back in his chair, but turning it so it faces me. He looks a little relieved to be distracted from whatever he’s working on, to be honest, and if it’s that horrible book Darius had, I don’t blame him. My stomach turns at the memories shoving their way forward, of Theo and Darius up on the cliffs of the Falls.

“Are you okay, Seff? You’ve gone all pale.” My eyes snap to Brydon and I realise I’ve drifted off into my own thoughts again. The back of my neck burns at being caught.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got caught in a thought.”

He looks doubtful, but unlike me he has some control over his brain-voice connection so he holds his tongue.

“Well, back to your question. Yes, we do have pornography. It’s just that the Mundane was… different. You know?”

“Ah,” I say, sagely, leaning back in the chair and folding my hands over my stomach. “The taboo thing. I get it. Hot.”

Brydon snorts out a laugh, rolling his eyes at me. “Yeah, something like that.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, but there is a knock on the door and Eldrid appears, their dour, jowly face and drooping eyes reminding me of a dog. Which is probably helped by his canine shifter scent.

“Master Brydon,” He bows his head at Brydon, who responds with a cheery two-finger salute before Eldrid turns to me. “Master Seff.”

Yeesh, nope, don’t like that. I’m about to correct him on the whole title thing, but he turns back to Brydon. “Your father is here. There are guards with him, too. I have him waiting in the hall. Would you like to receive him?”

Eldrid tries to hide his anxious twisting of his fingers by clasping his hands in front of him, but it doesn’t quite work.

Immediately, the tension returns to Brydon’s body, the healthy green of his face turning an orc-grey kind of colour. I sit forward, ready to do I don’t quite know what, but wanting to be ready for it either way, but Brydon shocks us all.

“Yes, Eldrid. Send him in.”

“Are you sure, Master Brydon? I would be more than happy to—” Brydon stands, cutting a hand through the air to stop Elrid from talking. His tail waves behind him.

“Yes. Whatever my father wants, it’s best to get it over and done with.”

Don’t like this. Don’t like his Dad. Where’s Rafe? Wolf pokes his nose in to offer his opinion, but I don’t mind, because I thoroughly agree with all his points. Heylor is a monumental dick. He makes Colin look like a reasonable man and I don’t trust him in the slightest. But I don’t have a say in this at all, even if my instincts are roaring DANGER! DANGER! DANGER !

“Very well, Master.” Eldrid sighs, leaving the door slightly ajar while he leaves to retrieve Grand Master Dickhead.

“Yo, Brydon. You sure this is cool? Shouldn’t we wait for Rafe or something?”

Brydon looks at me, a sad half smile on his lips. “It’s fine, Seff. It’s just my father, no doubt he just wants to remind me of some duty I’m failing or whatever.”

I don’t believe him, even the littlest bit. But I can’t argue because the door is thrown open, banging against the wall with a thud.

What a dick .

Heylor strides inside the room, chest puffed out like a pigeon, his perfectly tailored clothes—and gigantic fucking ego—somehow more out of place in this fine ass room than me half naked and Brydon in his scungy cargo shorts and bright blue mullet.

Heylor nods at his son, like a king acknowledging a lowly peasant and my already fired up blood positively boils. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s elitist bullshit. But then he turns to me, and it gets worse. If I didn’t like the way things were going before, I really don’t like the look of victory on his smarmy face.

He rolls his shoulders back and clears his voice. Withdrawing a cream coloured envelope from the pocket of his coat, he holds it in two fingers, well out of my reach on the other side of the desk.

“Seff Harroway, I come on official business.” There is a faint crackle in the air. His joy at his task is too great to keep under control. “Under order of the High Eminence, and the High Council, you are to be permanently banished from our lands and are thereby ordered to leave Tathys immediately .”

Banished? The ground opens up beneath me as his words register and I feel like I’m falling from a very tall building.

I don’t trust Heylor as far as I can throw him and he is far too satisfied for this to be okay. I want to— need to —talk to Rafe. He can sort this out. He can make this okay. And if he can’t at least he can come with me. I’m not ready to leave him just yet, it feels unsafe. Wrong. This whole fucking morning feels wrong.

I just need Rafe.

Wolf reacts before I do, his growl rumbling threateningly through my chest as he attempts to force the change. I force him back, and launch myself to my feet, sending Rafe’s chair flying.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not !” I rage back at Heylor, Wolf’s presence adding a feral edge to my voice. “Where is Rafe? You can’t just send—”

“Actually, I can.” Heylor interrupts, condescension dripping from him. Thriving on my reaction, he picks imaginary dust off his shoulder, showing that some asshole traits transcend cultural divides. “The guards are waiting outside to escort you to the border. As a courtesy, I have even had the Portal Guard change the destination, somewhere closer to home. You will be back with your pack in no time.”

Tension ripples through my muscles as they tense, my body readying for a fight. There is no way I’m just leaving Rafe without a word. Not a fucking chance. Slowly I stand, taking advantage of my full height.

For a split second I see Heylor cower, but all too quickly he regains his composure, whistling a low sound.

“Father, no. ” Brydon’s harsh whisper is drowned out by the heavy booted footsteps of the guards, just as promised.

There’s more than half a dozen of them, all giant mountainous beings, complete with shining chest plates, metallic feather shoulder armour and heavy swords strapped to their backs. Like they are prepared to go into battle rather than collect one lone wolf. One guy even has a wicked-looking spear thing he looks extremely confident about. They don’t speak a word, they don’t need to. There is no way I can take them all. I’m strong, but not that fucking strong. I would be dead within seconds.

I want to shred the smug smile from his face. He knows it, too. His eyes sparkle when they catch the flair of my nostrils, and when they note the seething tension coiled in my muscles.

And I can’t do a fucking thing.

My jaw clenches and I look to Brydon, but he’s standing at his desk, cowering behind his father, arms crossed over his body.

“Can he really do this?” I ask the one person in the room I can trust. Except he nods jerkily, teeth biting into his lip til there is a hint of blood.

“Yes. He can. And if you don’t go willingly… they will make you Seff. It won’t be kind.”

A deathly silence falls over the room and I feel like I’m going to vomit. Hopefully, all over Heylor. Familiar fear flashes through my mind, making my body run hot and cold and my knees lock against the weakness that grips them.

Fighting means pain. I know, I can remember all too well. The magic, the searing heat. The agony. The fear. For me and Brydon. Clamping down the terror at the memories of the cottage that flash through my mind like a highlight reel, I look between the father and son, the ache in my chest making it impossible to breathe.

I should fight. Make it hard. Make them fucking take me.

Wolf howls in agreement, ready to fucking go . The change shimmers over me, the potential energy feeding the adrenaline urging me to fight. Cause a fucking scene.

But I catch Brydon’s eye. Glassy with unshed tears, his round, black eyes bore into me, pleading with me to heed his warning. He shakes his head. I almost don’t see it, it’s such a subtle movement and my senses are clouding with rage, but I do.

A warning, for what I don’t know. But I know to fucking take it.

Fuck.

No! He’s taking you from our Rafe! Fight! I’ll eat his liver! Wolf snarls, and the battle to hold him back feels like a sucker punch on top of everything else. I can’t get us back to Rafe if we’re dead. Chill.

“Fine.” I grind the word out, and Brydon’s breath rushes out in relief. Heylor practically glows in victory, even as he throws a look of irritation over his shoulder at his son.

“Good choice.” His voice is like acid. Thankfully, he doesn’t attempt to touch me. Just follows me out the front door and past Eldrid, Maeve, and Sed, all waiting in the entry hall, wringing their hands in worry. Their protests and assurances that they will get Rafe, that he will fix this, do little to ease the anxiety choking me.

The guards surround me as we exit the house, maintaining a solid wall of muscle as they silently force me off Rafe’s property.

My spirit aches with each step, but there is nothing I can do, except pray to the Gods that Rafe will find me soon.

***

On the silent march out of the city—which suspiciously avoids the main streets—to the borders of Tathys and the Whisper Woods, my mind jumps from one conclusion to another.

It’s more than obvious that what’s happening to me is not above board. I mean, everything was perfectly fine when I was in the High Council meeting, and when I was kicking it around Tathys. And now suddenly, the loudest voice in the anti-reunification brigade is suddenly kicking me out? That cannot be a good sign.

My anxiety spirals out of control about what this flex of power by Heylor means for Rafe, for us being together and for the future of Rafe’s beloved home. There are too many questions and my brain is too panicked, racing too fast, to think them through.

More than once the thought crossed my mind that perhaps, they’ve taken me away to kill me or some other terrible thing. With nothing but my own thoughts and emotional turmoil, my brain has a field day coming up with outrageous and terrible scenarios of how they might torture and maim me.

But they don’t.

They simply walk me to the portal and shove me through.

And now I’m here, right on the edge of the Black Stump Tavern.

The portal dumped me about a fifteen-minute walk away, and I refuse to be grateful to Heylor or the Portal Guard for that. As soon as I fell through this side, I tried to go back, but the entry was blocked, the portal completely disappeared. There was nothing.

No way through.

The howl that ripped from me had torn at my throat so bad it still hurts.

The Black Stump is buzzing with mid-morning energy, but I can’t bring myself to cross the grassy clearing to see my friends.

Staring at the Black Stump, I can’t escape the overwhelming fear gripping me that if I go in there my time with Rafe is over. It’ll become a line in the sand, then and now. If we’re lucky—and Heylor isn’t successful in whatever he obviously has planned—maybe we’ll go back to seeing each other by chance in the Woods.

Gods, the very thought feels like death. I can’t do that again. I can’t .

And if Heylor is successful? Who knows if I’ll ever see him again.

I am too deep in the feelings—I can no longer tell the difference between my imagination and my instincts. Everything inside is a jumbled mess which all boils down to just needing to see Rafe once again. To know that he is okay and safe. I don’t know what to do, panic rises inside me once again.

Running my hands through my hair, I tug at the strands and then scratch at my arm. My body feels too big and too small at the same time while a thousand thoughts spin in a thousand directions at the same time.

A whimper squeezes out of me, my vision blurring, and a small hand squeezes my shoulder.

“Come on, big guy, let’s get you home.” The pungent, herby smell of Edith is a life raft to my senses. I cling to it, finding my way out of the pit in my head, and I let her lead me to the tavern.

With her arms wrapped around mine, her hand rubbing comfortingly on my biceps, we skirt around the edges of the grounds, to the garden out the back. Theo is there, digging away in a vegetable patch. He drops his shovel the moment he sees me, rushing through the squeaking gate to run to greet us, throwing his arms around me when he slams into me.

“Where have you been ?” His outrage is muffled slightly considering he’s still squeezing me tight, but it makes me laugh sadly. His unrestrained love makes my sad heart lurch and I wrap my free arm around him and squeeze him back.

“It’s been like, two nights, Thee.”

“Yes, but you were gone. We knew you weren’t in Twin Heads and I couldn’t feel you in the Woods and—” He cuts off when I pull back, his face tipping up, frowning. I look at him and then Edith, then back to Theo.

“What do you mean you couldn’t ‘feel me in the Woods’?”

Pink colours Theo’s cheeks and he steps back out of our hug, mouth flapping as he tries to find the words. Edith comes to his rescue, patting my arm reassuringly.

“It’s a new trick he’s learnt. Still figuring it out. It’s all to do with how he’s tied to the Woods.”

“Oh.” I frown at my pint-sized friend who’s new gifts seem to be growing in leaps and bounds. He blushes almost radioactive red under the scrutiny, the soft golden glow that radiates from him pulsing.

“Come on, the others will be waiting for you. I’m sure Mauvy wants to feed you.” Edith is being surprisingly gentle with me as she coaxes me up the back steps of the tavern, into the kitchens.

I wave to Tilly and Kai, two of the morning kitchen staff, and let Edith settle me in at the big wooden prep table that is Mauvy’s domain. Theo sits close beside me, keeping an eye on me, I guess, while Edith trots off to go and round up the troops.

With each passing moment the bitterness eases, but even the comfort and love of my friends can’t relieve the feelings of leaving Rafe behind and my fear about what is happening in Tathys. I’m spiralling. I can feel it happening, but can’t seem to find the fucking brakes.

I should have fought. I should have done something . But I didn’t. I just… left him.

Tears burn my eyes and I let them fall, not bothering to wipe them from my cheeks. Theo wraps himself around me, and even though he’s tiny, it’s still comforting.

“Oh, is it group hug time? I just saw Edith. She's gonna be sad she missed it.” Seldon plasters himself to my back, rubbing his cheek in my hair. “Oh shit. This is a sad hug. What’s happened now?”

“No idea. Edith just brought him round the back and—” Theo explains for me, but it just makes everything worse and I fall forward out of their reach to tuck my head under my arms on the table, burrowing into the dark.

It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad I can’t fight back the stupid voices in my head telling me I’m useless. Too soft. Should have fought back. Found a way to Rafe. The accusations take over until it’s just a sharp pounding in my head.

They talk over me, all around me. Someone is patting my back.

I choke on a sob that I can’t keep back and I’m swallowed by the weight of my friends on me as they smother me in their love.

It’s horrible.

I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve them .

With surprising strength I’m manhandled around, so my head is pulled around into a neck, covered by fuzzy white hair.

“Shhh… come on now, darling. What’s wrong?” Edith waits patiently for me to answer, rocking me from side to side ever so slightly. When I try to pull away, her bony fingers hold me tight.

I want nothing more than to keep it inside, to keep them from seeing how big of a mess that I am. But I can’t; it’s too big—even for me—and it explodes out of my mouth in a torrent.

“I went with Rafe. To his home. To see the… things and they told me I have to go. I had to leave, and he wasn’t there and I didn’t say goodbye. Things are bad there. Or, I think, possibly, they are about to be. And I have no idea when I’m ever going to see him again or if I’m going to see him again and it hurts . It feels like I’m dying to not be with him. It’s never felt this bad to leave him. But we’ve never had time like this. Never left like this. I don’t know what to do and he may be gone forever if fucking Heylor gets his way and I didn’t fight . They made me go, and I just went and I should have fought. I should have fought for him and to stay but I was scared. I can’t do that again. Not after Marieth. I was scared. And because I was too fucking soft and too fucking weak to fight again, I lost him and I need him. And he’s gone .” I don’t know if they heard a word that I said around my choked sobs, through Edith’s hair, but there is a murmur of sympathy around me.

“Why is he gone, Seff? I don’t understand?” Great, Caelan’s here to witness my misery. It feels poetic or something stupid. There isn’t enough air under here, so I sit up, scrubbing my swollen eyes and face with a big sigh.

“I can’t explain. It’s…” I open my eyes to find Roan and Caelan giving me matching concerned frowns with their arms across their chests. Tor, sitting at the table opposite me in front of his bonded mate, has an eyebrow arched in question. Mauvy has the same mm-hmm energy going on, her lips pursed disapprovingly.

“It’s not like that, guys. I swear. It’s big. Like, big shit . Bigger than Marieth, big. And I don’t know what I’m allowed to say. But, argh !” I scrub angrily at my face again. “It’s all beside the point anyway.” My leg bounces again and I let my body slump in on itself.

“Is he why you’re leaving the pack?” Roan asks, his tone perfectly even.

“Roan, what the fuck? Now isn’t the time!” Theo yells across the table and tugs me into him protectively, which in any other scenario would be hilarious considering the size difference.

“Yeah, it kind of is the time, Theo.” Caelan jumps to Roan’s defence. “Seff, you met this guy a week ago, while you’re still dealing with all this traumatic shit from back in the spring and now, days after another shitty and scary thing, you leave your pack, run the fuck off to Gods’ know where, and then come back like, like… this !”

He waves a hand at my general sad, pathetic state.

With my head pressed against his crown, in a really awkward angle that is killing my side, I can hear Theo muttering threats against his brother’s mate. Roan and his brother are included in the threats too, considering they are nodding along grimly with everything Caelan says.

“Actually, I met him five years ago.” Sitting up, I clear my throat and begin picking at a groove in the wood on the edge of the table. I’m not able to look at them, but I speak, with a shaking voice, my leg still bouncing. “It was just after everything with you Caelan, and I… I hated it there. I couldn’t take it. Colin was still the pack leader… I thought he was the problem. But it turns out it’s just me. I’m the problem. I never fit in with them. Not really. It all came so easy to them. But for me, it’s always been an effort. Every fucking day. And it’s exhausting . My head never shuts up. It never stops. And sometimes it gets mean .

“And that night I just couldn’t . I run sometimes, in the Woods, with Wolf, y’know? And I just feel free. I need it. And that night I was there, standing on the edge of the cliffs. He thought I was going to jump.” I huff a sad laugh at the memory of it, the feeling of the universe clicking into place in one glorious moment. “We… talked. Breanna tracked me and barged into the area and almost busted us.”

Seldon snickers behind me and I reach a hand back to whack his stomach playfully.

“Shut up.” But I smile, making my cheeks hurt with the effort. “After that it was like, a year later that I saw him again? And then like, once a year after that. Sometimes the year was short or long. Every time it was an accident, we just found each other, and everything just felt right . But it was always just one night. And then one of us would have to go. It fucking sucked . I knew he was hiding something, but my instincts… they told me to let it go. To just be with him.”

“I was able to walk away every time. It hurt, but I could do it because I knew it was the way it had to be. The tiny scraps of him were better than nothing, even when it hurt. But now everything has changed and I feel like I’ve just lost a piece of myself and I don’t know how to get it back.”

“Why don’t you just go back to… wherever you were? Where were you?” Caelan’s voice is calm as ever, with just a hint of forced neutrality.

Talking about the love of your life in front of the other love of your life is really, really fucking awkward. I’m not the type of guy to write off what Caelan and I had just because of Rafe. It was real as shit. I fucking loved him. But Rafe is different. Just like Tor is for Caelan.

Even Caelan feels a little uncomfortable about it all, clearing his throat and putting his hand on Tor’s shoulder. The fae squeezes Caelan’s hand reassuringly, while they do their bonded mate mind meld thing.

I expel a harsh breath and rap out a quick beat on the table. The room is tense. Everyone’s waiting for me to answer. Gonna say, I much prefer when everyone’s looking at me for my hot bod, rather than my talking.

“Because he actually comes from this sick ass magical city called Tathys that walled itself off from the Whisper Woods, and it's like the world was fucking centuries ago, but the magic is crumbling and it’s all to do with Marieth and the Woods being sick and your magic is linked in somehow too, Theo, but I don’t know how really because they kept talking about all these big things and I didn’t get it because I was really fucking tired but they call this the Mundane and I met the queen except they don’t call her the queen, they call her the High Eminence and I met Brydon who is really cool and another dragonkin like Rafe, only he’s green and is, like obsessed with the Mundane and is wicked smart, like old Theo type smart and I patted a fucking dragon .”

I drag in a much needed breath after the world’s biggest info-dump and stare back at my wide-eyed friends—absolutely horrified about the potential secrets I just divulged.

“I don’t think I was meant to say any of that.” I whisper, turning to Edith, mainly because she is the only one not staring at me like I’ve gone stark raving mad and need to get trotted off to the Shifters Home.

“It’s going to be okay, Seff.” She smiles at me. And I know it’s meant to be reassuring, but the perpetually smudged red lipstick always ruins the effect.

“You patted a dragon ?”

“What the fuck do you mean Theo is involved in this?”

“What is a fucking dragonkin?”

“I want to pet a dragon!”

“I’m going to be pulling a double today aren’t I? Woodsy is going to lose his shit.” Everyone talks at once, but the last one is Mauvy, who throws a towel over her shoulder and crosses her arm resignedly.

“Fuck, no, what do you mean? That’s not—” I reach across the table to try to grab her hand in apology, but she laughs and pats me gently, her eyes sparkling behind her glasses.

“Seff, darling, I’m kidding. I don’t mind. And neither does Woodsy. I can’t speak for him, but I’d much rather be here on the home front than doing the adventuring. And, this may shock you all to learn, but I do have a life outside of all your dramas.” Her round face splits with a smile when she chuckles. Mauvy’s small hand tightens around my much bigger one, squeezing it until I look her in the eye. “And most importantly, Seff, you’re family. We look out for each other.”

“Like a pack.” I don’t mean to whisper it, and embarrassment heats my ears before I can rein it in.

“Too fucking right, like a pack. Maybe that’s why you never fit in with the Everfyr. Your pack is right here. I knew I started collecting you all for a reason.” Edith rubs my thigh, and now that I’m obviously no longer losing the plot, she gives a little gropey squeeze. It’s an oddly reassuring gesture—surely if Edith is up to being mildly inappropriate, things are going to be okay.

I feel exhausted, though, completely and totally wiped from all my crying, and from that burning in my chest feeling like someone took a red hot poker and just shoved it in there.

“We’re going, right? To the magic city thing?” Tor looks around to everyone just to make sure we’re all on the same page.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea if they think Theo—” Roan starts but is cut off by a venomous—yet somehow still loving—look from Theo.

“Boss Daddy, I swear to the Gods if you try to go all protective mode I’ll—”

“Gross, don’t call him that.” Tor fake gags dramatically.

“Oh get over it, like I haven’t heard you guys going at it a thousand times already.” Theo scoffs, making Caelan blush violently under his beard. Mauvy chortles at our idiot friends, whacking Edith on the shoulder with a “what are we going to do with them” eye roll.

“How dare you leave me as the last single man standing with these disgusting loved up couples?” Seldon murmurs affectionately in my ear, leaning in for yet another hug. I manage to laugh with him, watching the others go at it, even while it twists the knife in a little bit deeper.

“Guys, it doesn’t matter. We can’t go anyway.” I cut them off when Theo calls Tor a name from their childhood and the gloves come off. “You can’t just… go there. Even with the borders gone, I have no idea how to actually get to Tathys. And even if I did, the Woods that far south can’t be crossed. They are too dangerous.” Maybe it was a reaction to the magic of Tathys’s walls, but the southern most sections of the Woods have always been too dangerous for beings to cross.

“Then how’d you get there and back in two days?” Mauvy asks, tucking her long braids behind her shoulders.

“There was a portal, near the cliffs to the east of the pack grounds. They moved it when they sent me back. Made it closer to here. But then they shut it. I tried to go back through but it was gone.”

“Portal?” Mauvy’s face scrunches and she rubs her chin, deep in thought. “It made you cross the Woods, right? One side to the other? What did it look like?”

“Yeah, took us clear across the Woods. Rafe said they used to be all over the place, but eventually they faded because of whatever. They looked like shimmery air. You wouldn’t see it if you weren’t really looking.”

Edith scoffs beside me. Maybe because those portals would make her jaunts through the Woods a lot easier. But everyone’s attention is on Mauvy.

“Maybe not all of them.” She mutters to herself, jumping off the stool abruptly, her hooves loud on the stone floors, her long skirt almost tangling her up as she runs to the door leading to the tavern.

She hauls it open with her surprising strength, yelling behind the bar. “ Woodsy! Get your butt back here!”

There is an awkward moment where we all look at each other, waiting for the Black Stump’s bartender.

He looks at us, crowded around the table and my no doubt wrecked face and slumps, hanging his head dramatically between his shoulders.

“What now? Why is it always you lot? Can’t someone else go and save the world or whatever? I have a date.” He sounds so dejected, I immediately feel the shame of the pressure our recent adventures have had on him. Just like Dad and the guys at work. It’s been really unfair on all of them. Fuck.

“It doesn’t matter Woodsy, we’re not going—” I’m cut off by Mauvy who rounds the table to lay a hand on my arm, hip checking Seldon out the way as she does.

“Seff, dear, kindly shut up.” She pats my arm to show there are no hard feelings and turns back to Woodsy. “Remember when Dirk and Bright were in the other week and they said that one of their guys had disappeared and reappeared in the Woods?”

Dirk and Bright are two orc brothers, good guys but dumb as a box of crayons.

Woodsy nods slowly, his brow puckered. “Yeah, they were going on about how Bix said that he was on another side of the Woods. Saw a big hairy being and jumped through whatever it was and came back.”

Mauvy nods impatiently. “Yeah, what did they say it looked like?”

Woody exhales and shakes his head. “I dunno, it’s hard to make sense of them sometimes. They said the air was shiny, and it felt funny. That’s why Bix fell through. He touched it and it sucked him in.”

Mauvy looks at me, her eyebrows practically in her hairline. “That sound like your portal?”

Well, fuck me. “Yeah. Yeah, exactly like it. But they said they’re all gone.”

Edith’s bony hand claps me on my back as she lets out a wild cackle. “Ha! They haven’t stepped foot on our side in centuries. How would they know?” She claps her hands together excitedly, not always a great or safe thing when it comes to Edith. “Sounds like we’re having another adventure! ”

“Gods’ tits. I’ll call Mira. She’s gonna be pissed.” Woodsy mutters. “But whatever. You guys have fun. Be safe and all that.” He smiles at us to show he’s not entirely pissed at us all.

“We’ll bring you back a tee shirt. How about that?” Theo teases.

“How about a raise and a bonus?” Woodsy throws over his shoulder, already on his way back to the bar.

“Done.” Roan, agrees readily. We hear Woodsy’s little crow as he disappears out of the kitchen. “Right, let’s go get Seff’s man back and find out what these Tathys beings are saying about Theo.”

I try to object, guilt eating at me even as my excitement grows.

I’m going to get back to Rafe. And we, all of us, can help him, help Tathys, with whatever fuckery is going on and maybe even save the Whisper Woods.

***

It’s not a direct route back to Rafe. It never fucking is. After quickly getting changed into the stash of clothes I keep in the staff's rooms, we get ourselves ready to make our way into the Woods to find Dirk and Bright’s orc troupe. It’s a bit of a journey, considering we’re not one-hundred percent certain where they are camping at the moment, but Mauvy was pretty confident of the directions she gave us.

Personally, I’m giving us a fifty-fifty chance of success.

But I’ll take it if it means there is a chance I can get back to Rafe.

“So, tell me about this Tathys place, what’s it like?” Edith walks next to me and Seldon, picking random bits off trees as we go. I wipe a bead of sweat from my temple. Summer may be over but the humidity is still sticking in the trees.

“It’s... big. The energy there? You know how you’re always bitching that faes are weaksauce and all that?” Edith hums in acknowledgement, a dreamy smile on her face when Tor, Theo, and Roan overhear what I’ve said and turn to glare over their shoulders. “I can see what you mean. It’s like… there was something different to the magic there. They were in perfect harmony with it. Every being does magic there, even like, shifters and stuff. I guess ‘cause they don’t have technology or whatever, they have to. It’s how everything works.”

“Shifters can do magic?” Seldon asks, his interest sparked. He was far too keen to join us on our trip to Tathys, even though I’ve tried to tell him that these little excursions don’t always end well.

“Yeah, it’s just expected, the kids start learning it from when they are little. But they are kind of dicks about the Mundane. Some of them, anyway. There’s this prophecy, that they are meant to rejoin the rest of the world. There are some who are really against it ‘cause they hate the Mundane. And then there are some that are just scared, especially because their magic’s draining. But then there are some who are keen to rejoin, especially beings that lost family to the Mundane.”

I explain more about Tathys and the rules their people live under, trying my best to answer everyone’s questions with my extremely limited knowledge.

We get lucky, though. It takes less than an hour to find our orcs—they were on their way to the Black Stump for a drink and to do some trading anyway. Bix is more than happy to show us the glitter air they found, too. Turns out he plans on asking Dad about a job, so on the way he grills me on questions about the work and if they’d be cool with an orc joining the crew.

By the time we reach the portal, another hour walk away, I feel a special affinity for the big guy. He’s a lot more switched on than the others in his troupe, leaving him drifting on the outskirts. And while working there wasn’t a great fit for me, it might be for him. And, yeah, maybe it eases a bit of my guilt about abandoning Dad to be able to point to someone who can lift really heavy things and is eager to learn in his direction.

I promise to give Dad a heads up when I get back to my phone—which is actually stuck in Tathys now that I think about it, along with my car keys—and Bix waves us off, lumbering off into the Woods to find his friends.

We’re much further west than where I went through with Rafe, which may pose a problem on the other side, but what else can we do?

“Is this it?” Tor asks, leaning so close to the shimmering strip of air over the top of a giant bird's nest fern his nose brushes the portal. Caelan pulls him just before Tor falls into the gateway, sneezing from the magical tickle of his nose.

“Fucks sake, Tor.” Caelan mutters under his breath, pulling his mate in for a brutal, possessive kiss. Theo pulls a face and the rest of us snicker, even though we’re more than used to their displays by now. And to be fair, Theo and Roan aren’t any better at being discreet.

“Gods, knock it off already.” Roan groans, flicking a small token from his pocket into the underbrush for the sprites. The leaves shake as the tiny beings clamour for their prize. “How are we doing this?”

“I feel like we should have a rope or something.” Seldon eyes the shimmering air dubiously, obviously second guessing his choices today.

“Oh, enough of this. Adventure is adventure.” Edith declares, shoving past us all to leap into the void head first.

We stand, shocked and silent, staring at the empty space where Edith was.

“ I can’t feel her, Roan .” Theo whispers, clasping onto Roan’s arm. Caelan swears under his breath and Seldon steps closer to me.

But then, out of fucking nowhere , Edith’s hands reaches out of the nothingness, crooking a finger in our direction. In the very distance, I can almost hear her cackle of laughter, like a dim echo.

“Well, boys. Looks like we’re doing this. Let’s go.” And with that, I jump.