Page 70 of The Girl in the Forest

I was the intruder who’d wandered from a public space into something too private to be disturbed, but fortunately, Grayson’s thoughts had drifted. He stared at what I didn’t see, and I took advantage of his distraction, admired him from a distance—at least, the distance of a single room.

He wore his usual black, and I studied the width of his shoulders. His stomach was washboard hard, his hips slim. The veins in his forearms led to powerful wrists and sensitive hands.

I’d first felt the physical impact months ago, when he stood in front of a glowing fire, nude and uncaring if I watched. That night, I’d had no mind of my own beyond what I imagined—his taste, the lift of his muscles, the hard thrust of his body.

I’d known those things would become a drug to me if I ever indulged. A hunger I’d have for the rest of my life. For this man and no other.

And once again, I was watching.

Although not nude, his effect on me was the same. He walked to the waiting fireplace. Bent to check the wood stacked on a black grate, reaching in to resettle the logs—such a mundane action. People did it every day. But Grayson moved with the easy mastery that infused everything he did.

When he rose from the crouch, the black jeans caressed his firm buttocks, the strength in his legs, and although the movement to stand was ordinary, it was also profoundly erotic.

The storm outside had cleared. Looking through the kitchen window, I could see the setting sun, spreading a golden, sparkling light over the trees. The ground faded into bruised, silent shadows. But in the quiet, I had the unmistakable sense that something waited impatiently.

And what waited alarmed me.

I glanced around. “We don’t need to stay here tonight.”

Grayson studied my face while my heart hammered.

“We have to stay here,” he said. “Because what I have to say to you has to be said here. This is where it started for me, Noa. Out there, in the yard, the day shadows killed my parents. When I was old enough, I went to see the Gemini Witches. I asked them why my parents died. The witches told me the shadows were creatures sent to kill me. I should have died too, but the King of the Forest protected me because my fate was to pay for the ancient sins of the kings. They said that if I wasn’t careful, everyone I loved would die trying to protect me.”

My legs trembled, and I knew I should walk away before he said more. Not let him inalterably change my life.

But I stood… still.

“Before Keenan died.” Grayson’s tone steadied. “He shared a secret each alpha must share with his successor. Two initials have been passed down alpha to alpha, for generations. One is A. The other is N. There’s more. When she comes, the wheel starts to turn. And when she returns, fate is sealed. I didn’t want to believe it. Then Fee found me. He said there would be two. One to kill. One to die for. That I’d face darkness before the clouds cleared and I could not change the path.”

His gaze glittered with both green and blue, and having him look at me like that was a fist to the heart.

“I’ve shared none of this with Mace or Fallon. I know they’ll try to protect me even more than they do, and I won’t risk them for my sake.”

“Grayson…”

He shook his head, continuing to speak while time slowed. “So when you asked if I believed in fate, the answer is yes. I have to believe. Now I’m asking the same of you. Do you believe in fate, Noa? And given what I’ve just told you, be very careful about the next words out of your mouth.”

I rubbed at my chest, feeling the ache there first.

“My mother warned me years ago. No matter how seductive or inevitable I thought it was, I should not believe in fate. What I believe is that we have free will. The sins of the past or some magic vengeance cannot trap us. But if Fate exists, then she has a sick sense of humor.”

Thunder thrummed through my ears, although it was only my heart, racing.

“The witches told me things, too. When I asked about another faille, they said one was close, but they wouldn’t tell me where because I’d asked the wrong question. When I asked about the right question, they gave me several. Why did you stand in my way? Why did you want the book? They said a spell had been cast on that book. It was against the kings, and you couldn’t read it. That I shouldn’t let it fall into your hands or read it for you.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“They said you would use me. Destroy me. That you hid things from me, and I should leave before you demanded my sigil. Forced me to protect you.”

“Maybe you should believe them,” he said hoarsely.

I shook my head. “I didn’t believe, so they projected the proof on the wall. Made me watch a battle. I was standing at the top of a blackened hill. The sky was clear and blue, and a dread lord was leading the charge. I heard the screams as the lines clashed. They were overrun by creatures like those I saw in the meadow, and some I hope never to see again. But failles were at the front lines. Their hands were outstretched. They syphoned energy until it ruined them. Killed them. Too many were left in the blood and gore, broken. Used as weapons by the dread lords and discarded. Abandoned while they died. The witches said you’d do the same. Force me to syphon until I broke. That was what all dread lords did.”

He drew in a shuddering breath, and I wondered if he was thinking about what he’d asked of me, to protect Sutter, and if he was—I was watching a man slowly break.

“Then they gave me a prophecy.” My voice had grown as choked as his. “They said you had to protect me, but I was still free. They said you would battle alone. You would die, and I—I would do nothing to help you.”

Light shattered through a hanging window prism, spearing through the room as if the sun was throwing knives.

---