Dawn Carver (3)

6

Freya

In the summer months, nights are filled with fireflies to guide you through the foliage of the forest. But in the depths of winter, slithers of moonlight bleed through the spiny, naked trees of the Dadun forest, casting a cool-toned glow across the path.

Ahead of me, Alaric follows the moonlight like some sort of guide. I stay strictly behind him as we venture further, my hands stretched out in front of me, anticipating the forcefield to interrupt each step that I take.

He is Kinjri, not a shifter. Years of living with the shifters has given him the ability to move more quietly through that forest than I can manage, but he is still no match for a shifter.

I hear Killian's voice in my head, urging me to watch my step, mocking me for each branch that crunches underfoot. I glance over my shoulder, almost expecting to see dark eyes staring back at me through the wiry trees. But only the dark trees greet me.

They're dead. Lei's voice floats through my mind, trying to infiltrate each corner of my memory.

With her voice, an ache fills my left side. It's all too familiar. I used to believe grief to be something you experience mentally. It took my father dying to learn the truth about grief and it's all encompassing nature.

No, I tell myself. No. You don't know that she's right. You can't let yourself think that.

But her voice does not go away, no matter how hard I resist it. It whispers through the breeze of the forest, bounces off the calls of the birds overhead.

Alaric stops moving in front of me, causing me to come to an abrupt halt. Turning his body sideways, he stares down at me, a peculiar look on his face.

I force a mask over my expression, but the way he looks at me does not change.

"Why did we stop?" I ask, earning myself a reprieve from his gaze as he turns to look out at the forest.

"Look in front of us. What do you see?"

I follow his gaze, scanning the treeline, then shrug. "More forest."

"Look closer, squint your eyes a little bit." I follow his instruction, my vision blurring. "Look in the slithers of light of the moon."

I'm about to give up when I notice the slight shimmer in the air, catching the light of the moon and traveling to the ground like a flash of light. Furrowing my brows, I open my eyes wide, staring at Alaric.

"You took me to the forcefield?"

He nods, eyes bright at my recognition. "Touch it."

"Are you trying to get me killed?"

"It won't hurt you."

"I already know that's a lie."

"Last time, you and Lei ran at it full force. It was only protecting itself when it let off that electric current. If you are gentle, you will only feel a slight resistance."

I hesitate, holding my hand back as my body aches in memory of how it felt to run full force into this thing. "Here," Alaric says, "I'll show you." Reaching out a hand, the forcefield shimmers at his touch, but resists any further movement.

"You mean it keeps you from passing through, too?"

He doesn't answer, dropping his hand.

"You asked me before how I tailor the forcefield to you and Lei specifically," he says. "That isn't possible."

"So you've trapped yourself in with us? What about the villagers? If they try to leave?"

"They will be able to." He reaches forward again, this time, his hand meeting no resistance, as if there's nothing there. This urges me to reach forward.