Pressing the doors closed and resting her back against them, Sylvie frowned at the empty stone hallway.

“Elias?” she whispered, padding forward and looking in the direction they came from. “Kian?”

Not a soul.

“Shit.”

Following the spiral path, Sylvie kept the black vial squeezed in her palm, poised for some monster to jump out of the shadows at any second.

Soon, a scowling Kerensa appeared, storming towards her and grabbing her bicep. “Hurry up before your vampire kills my stupid brother.”

Despite the attitude, Sylvie let out a soft sigh. “What?”

She jogged to keep up with Kerensa’s pace and attempted to lessen the biting grip on her arm. “What happened?”

Silence and hurried footsteps were her only answer as they crossed a door threshold outside. A large hedge garden appeared on her left, while a sparsely forested area covered the right side. Kerensa tugged her towards the hedges, and she slowly made out harsh voices.

“Let go of her, Kian.”

“She’s mine.”

Sylvie spotted the upper body of Kian wrapped protectively around Lazuli while Elias’ form remained out of sight. The sight of his embrace boiled Sylvie’s blood.

After everything she had done, consistently giving him the benefit of the doubt and believing he was all hers like Elias promised, he still clung to Lazuli like she was his lover. No matter how much Sylvie empathised with her abuse, she couldn’t deal with them any longer.

Digging her heels into the ground, Sylvie yanked her arm free from Kerensa and spun to walk back when the purple-eyed fae hissed, “What are you doing? Come back.”

“No!” Sylvie spat, shoving the small vial towards Kerensa. She took it and stared hard at the tiny black vial with a furrowed brow.

“It’s a demon cleanser for Kian. Give it to him or don’t; I don’t care anymore. I need space before I lose my fucking shit.”

“You can’t wander off around here,” Kerensa growled back. “It’s not safe.”

“I don’t fucking care! If you follow me, I’ll disappear into one of these stupid trees and never come out again. I need space, Kerensa.”

Her voice came out in a husky whisper, and she cringed, realising Elias still probably heard every word.

Too bad.

She wasn’t about to let Kerensa’s pause pass her by. Without another word, she spun and dashed towards the spattered forests, not once glimpsing at the harsh voices at her back.

The castle stretched beside her until she reached a paved stone path, passing beneath a carved marble arch. Without much thought, she crossed the threshold and smiled at the soft pattering of her feet on the stepstones.

The space around her quieted, and she sent a small thanks to the Universe, and Elias, for giving her the isolation she craved.

Soon though, the silence grew unnerving. The lack of voices, insects, bird calls or even wind made the hairs on her body rise in the crisp air.

The wooded area didn’t invite her in like the Evergreen court. In fact, as she crept along the fringes, her stomach plummeted any time she weaved too close to the trees. The leaf cover shrouded most of the sunlight and cast the fourth and fifth rows of trees in almost complete darkness.

Keeping her hands glued to her sides, Sylvie cast her gaze up the gnarled branches reaching to one another. Like children linking arms to bar her path into the forest, the trees grew darker and more twisted as she wandered farther from the hedge garden.

As far as she could tell, she was alone, but the growing itch across her neck started to illicit images in her mind of spying eyes. Then just as her goosebumps turned into a total body chill, a decaying stench wafted up her nose, wrinkling it, and she paused her ambling. “Hello?”

She sighed, immediately ashamed of her muted, trembling voice and stepped forward a few more times, the smell growing stronger.

“What is that?”

At the end of the path, the stones weaved to the left and out of sight. Swallowing, Sylvie peered over her shoulder, expecting to see the castle in the distance, and when all that stood behind her were ugly trees, she inhaled sharply.

“Fuck,” she whispered, turning and taking a few tentative steps back from where she came. It wasn’t her best decision, looking for solace in a strangers kingdom full of abusers, liars and horrible fucking trees. Even the thought of merging with one of them made her stomach roll.

A cold gust blew a foul odour against her back, wrapping her hair around her face and causing her to misstep. Her hands flew out to catch her as she tripped and landed hard on her knees. The sound of fabric tearing made her cringe.

Pressing her lips together, she sat, swiping her hair out of her eyes to scan Lazuli’s mother’s gown. Her grandmother’s gown. Sylvie’s eyes and ears burned as she saw the four-inch gash across the front near her bruised knees.

“Damn it!” She fingered the frayed edges and buried her head in her hands. Her palms grew wet as she let the emotions she held inside free. Of course, it was just a gown, and any decent seamstress could probably fix it and make it look good as new, but it was her final straw.

Quivering with frustration, Sylvie welcomed the tears, the snot, everything. She was sick and tired of compartmentalising her grief, tucking it away for an older, wiser Sylvie to unpack. No, this time, she would feel.

The dull whimpers softly bounced off the trees around her for a few minutes before she peaked at them, sure they would be nearer to her, ready to devour her into their twisted flesh.

However, the world remained still; the trees remained on the edge of the path, and the creatures of the wood remained silent.

They mocked her with their absence. Or perhaps they respected her presence enough to keep quiet as she sobbed without shame in their home.

Maybe she scared them.

Sometimes she scared herself.

Casting her gaze around the path, a lone crow caught her attention, its black marbled eyes staring straight at her from a low-hanging branch.

So she wasn’t alone after all.

Sniffing and wiping the back of her hand across her face, she offered a slight wave to the creature.

It tilted its head and puffed its feathers slightly, revealing hues of lilac and teal under its jet top-feathers.

With one last sniffle, she pressed her hands against her cheeks, collecting her hot tears and rubbing them between her palms, smothering her quick emotional release.

She stood, ignoring the groan of her muscles and stared again at the crow. It stared back, its beak opening and closing slightly.

“Do you need something?” Sylvie asked, voice thick with emotion, taking a step closer. The bird’s body puffed up at her movement, and she paused. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She sniffed, peering over her shoulder and back at the bird. It moved. It stood in the centre of the path with the same inquisitive tilt to its fluffy head. She hadn’t heard it make a sound. “Are you magical?”

Its mouth opened as if to caw, but no sound came out. Sylvie swallowed and walked towards it. Its beak opened again, and it jumped back along the path, matching her steps. As she suspected, it didn’t make a single sound, and she sniffed again.

“This is stupid. I need to get out of here,” she said, spinning to walk the way she came. Something about the trees, though, made her pause. Was that the way she came from? After falling, her bearings were way off. Her nose was blocked, too, after crying, so she couldn’t smell the rotten stench anymore either.

More stubborn tears rolled down her cheeks as she spun back to the crow, it faced the path away from her, and she sighed. “Fine. I’ll follow you. You better not lead me to my death,” she said with a tight-lipped smile.

The crow hopped along the flat stones, and Sylvie followed, her eyelids drooping with exhaustion. Despite the rapid rate of her heart as the light around her dimmed, her tears drained her. Every step she took following the bird grew more sluggish and sloppy.

Her eyes closed briefly when a rigid, slimy surface smacked against her forehead. The rebounding force sent her flying backwards, landing hard on her tailbone.

Moaning, she leaned her head back against the earth as more tears of pain leaked and trailed towards her ears. Blinking them away, she scrunched her face at the gnarled, twisting monstrosity looming above her. The tree looked more like a swamp monster than a living plant. Black sap dribbled through the squishy, peeling bark, which she imagined was stuck to her head.

From her position, she could see the giant had little leaves and thick clawing root systems above the ground. No other tree breached the perimeter of the central one. If plants could show fear, the ones surrounding Sylvies new least favourite tree were the perfect example.

Their branches weaved away like the petals of a blooming rose, leaves quivering despite the absence of a breeze. Even the crow wouldn’t perch there, instead clawing at the dirt beside her sprawled form.

She rolled away from the bird and stood facing the tree, crossing her arms tightly around herself when a warm pressure circled her waist.

As a warmth tickled her ear and set her skin aflame with goosebumps, she inhaled sharply to scream.

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