Page 8 of Consumed
“Do you see?” I said. “It fits perfectly. Taken from the forest, returned to the forest. All is as it should be.”
Water trickled down his shoulders and chest. He sighed, turning to me with wonder in his stare. “The way you view the world is…so unlike anyone else I’ve met.” He drew his fingers through a lock of my damp hair, searching my face. “I’m honored to have earned your company, Róisín.”
My breath stammered, and I sat with the strangeness of it, once again reminded that I had never felt such stirrings beforehim. Touching was simply touching—it didn’t have tomeananything more. At least, that used to ring true. But now…
My gaze turned downward to the clear pool of water before us. Our reflections sat close together, and thoughI longed to sink into the delight of the view, I inhaled sharply.
“What’s wrong?” Eoin asked, drawing my eyes back to his.
“I—” Glancing at our reflection once more, I confirmed what I knew to be true. “Is that really what I look like?”
Bewildered, he glanced between me and my reflection as though he expected to find one different from the other. “What do you mean? You look like you belong in the halls of the castle. I doubt even that does you justice—you look higher than royalty.” He searched me once more and leaned in closer. “You’re like a beautiful dream. Agoddess.”
He said it in a whisper, as though he very well may speak his assessment into truth.
Clenching my jaw, I glared between the trees, toward distant hills. The castle was barely a smudge on the horizon behind a shroud of mist. He followed my gaze, and I was all too aware of how he grew tense beside me.
I didn’t want to be merely a dream.
“Have I offended you?” he asked.
“You amended your statement well,” I said airily, sneering at the faraway structure. “Mortals who live in castles think too highly of themselves.” My gaze softened upon him. “You shouldn’t aspire to such things. You’re worth a dozen of them.”
The tension in his shoulders eased, his gaze turning wistful. “Believe me, I’m content with thesimple life I’ve built for myself in An Tulaigh, but…I cannot deny that I’m curious about what it must be like over there. Imagine it—having servants, feasts every night, a stable packed with horses to take you as far as the eye can see.”
My attention fell back to my reflection—and Eoin hadn’t rambled for long before he noticed.
“What troubles you about your appearance?” he asked.
“I lookdifferentsince I last regarded myself,” I insisted. Less of the forest. More mortal. The thought sent a roil of disgust through me, but then again, I would never call my dear Eoin disgusting.
He frowned. “Youaredifferent,” he agreed. “You’ve changed. I’ve only glimpsed others of your kind—your siblings, as you say. A mere glint of spark-like eyes at dusk. It’s little wonder the frightful legends in my village have yet to cease. Stories of illusions, poisoned gifts, and wanderers walking until they collapsed.”
I stared impassively. If he knew the things I had done over the centuries, he would certainly look upon me differently. There was a time when I wouldn’t have cared.
“But I find it harder these days to believe you’re of kin with the others,” he finished. “Why?”
You, I thought fiercely.You have made me this way.
From the moment he bled on my roots on the day we met years ago, he had changed me. And with each visit, he only furthered the transformation. I held my tongue at the thought of telling him. Would it frighten his simple mortalmind to know how involved he was in awakening me to this world of consuming emotions?
Would our bond frighten him away?
No, I couldn’t tell him.
Stay, the forest whispered around us, echoing my desperate desires for him.Stay forever. Stay—
I raised my eyebrows haughtily. “Is every mortal the same?” I questioned back. “Youare different from your kind, too, you strange creature. No others are so bold as to venture so far into the forest these days.”
Eoin traced the side of my face with his fingertips. His deep voice softened. “If every mortal were so bold, I wouldn’t have you all to myself, now would I, little niamh?”
Shivering, I considered how easily I could keep him forever. To make him stay. But the iron claws of sorrow latched onto my heart at the thought of forcing him. These years with his company truly had softened me.
I wanted—no,needed—him to choose me without resorting to the tricks his kind feared so deeply. He was different, my Eoin.
And if he didn’t come willingly, I couldn’t keep him.
Our faces were so close that I felt his breath unfurl against my cheek. His hand, large and calloused, still cradled my head with care unbefitting a woodsman. That gleam in his eyes—itwas molten and greedy andreal.
