Page 15 of Stolen By The Beast
Ultimately, I decided to slink into the shadows where the darkness inside of me feasted upon my guilt while I withered away with every passing century. Without anyone to share my life, it became harder to want to continue it.
As the night settled around us like a protective cocoon, my senses homed in on the soft sounds of the forest—crickets serenading the darkness, leaves rustling in a gentle breeze. Despite my own restlessness, I felt a strange peace in holding the tiny creature in my arms close.
It’s a connection I haven’t felt in forever.
Wrapped in the embrace of shadows, I watched Juniper slumber, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of her breath. Her body was relaxed, but I remained tense, my mind awhirl with the knowledge of what she felt for me—and what I might feel for her.
The thought of her safety gnawed at me, along with my own growing obsession with her, and I found myself pondering the decision I had made. The world had turned harsher, humans more unpredictable.
Despite my innate wariness of Juniper’s kind, I couldn’t ignore her vulnerability. Her fear was a sharp reminder that danger could lurk even in the most innocuous corners of the wood, even in the most reclusive areas.
This tiny being, who had stumbled upon my world, had unwittingly woven herself into the fabric of my existence. And not over the great passage of time, but in a mere day!
I was a creature of the night, solitary and shrouded in darkness, and yet, her presence had cast a glimmer of light upon my solitude.
My musings were disrupted when she stirred in her sleep, her body shifting against mine. Instinctively, I tightened my hold, providing her with a fleeting sense of security. Her features softened in her sleep; the lines of worry smoothed away.
A faint smile graced her lips, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty I found in her when she was so unlike my kind. I adored that curl of her smile that signaled her happiness. Perhaps she could teach me to find the same contentment.
As the moon moved through the sky, I continued to watch her. The world beyond our secluded haven felt distant and inconsequential, as if it had shrunk to nothing more than a backdrop to this moment, and I reminded myself that she and I could never be.
Hours passed, and as the first hints of dawn began to lighten the horizon, the tiny female’s eyelashes fluttered, signaling her slow awakening. Her gaze met mine, and in that unguarded moment, I acknowledged there was a part of me that wondered what a life with her would be like.
“Did you sleep?” she whispered, her voice a soft melody that broke the silence.
“In my own way.”
Her fingers brushed against my chest, the touch featherlight yet charged with unspoken sentiment. “Thank you for staying with me.”
The simplicity of her gratitude stirred something within me, a fragile ember that had long remained dormant.
How long can I continue to ignore the emotions brewing within me?
“No need to thank me. You needed rest so you could regain your strength. We have much to do.”
Juniper’s eyes narrowed, the green orbs turning to thin, little slits. “What do you mean?”
“It’s time to build your shelter.”
“My… shelter?”
“Yes. A place just for you.”
“But what about us?”
Her question pierced through me, sharper than the weapons her kind had once used on mine.
“You can’t stay with me, but I promise to always look after and protect you…from a distance. I will see you, but you won’t see me.”
She scowled, and I was torn between disappointment and amusement at her constant shift in reactions. One moment, the tiny female appeared happy, and the next, she was the complete opposite. It must have been exhausting to switch from one to the other as often as she did.
“Fine.”
“Fine? You’re alright with this?”
“Nope, but I’ve made up my mind to change yours!”
I hung my head at the difficult creature intent on making my life miserable. “You won’t. I’m going to collect some wood. Stay here and wait for me. I promise you’ll be safe.”
