I must have fallen asleep because the sunlight burnt my eyes as it rose between the trees. I was curled up on my side, completely alone, covered in the freshly fallen leaves. I sat up, every muscle resisting and pulling. I took in the rock before me. Where there had been words crudely carved the night before, there was smooth, grey stone.
Something was off, almost like the world had a strange glossy film over it. My head span and my body felt heavy. It wasn't autumn, why were the trees bare? How had I missed the rest of spring and summer? And where had the engravings gone from my father's rock?
I looked down at myself.
"Ah shit." I swore to myself. I was no longer in the 21st century, rather I was now back in 1866, the year I had torn through the O'Connell wolf pack as if they'd been nothing more than sheets of paper.
I couldn't be here; I couldn't go through this again. Please be a dream, please, please be a dream. I begged that this wasn't real, that I was still curled up in the arms of Rogan in 2016, in the middle of spring.
"Nina? What are you doing on the ground?" That smooth Irish accent calmed my shaking nerves, just for a second, as I closed my eyes and tried to fight off hysteria. That was, until I opened my eyes again, and the trees were still bare and that handsome Irishman stood in suitable Victorian gentleman attire.
I almost groaned, despite myself. My young heart shattered.
"I was..." What had I told him that day? "This is what I wanted to show you." I deflected the question, knowing that it made no difference; he'd still ask regardless.
I lifted and hand to take his, that electrical pulse starting the second our skin touched. I smiled, knowing exactly what it meant.
I remembered then, why I had been sleeping there before showing Rogan this place. I had visited a human woman, the one who carried Rogan's bastard child, before coming here. I'd fallen asleep telling my father I wanted it to stop, that I didn't want the responsibility of the Huntress anymore, had begged him to take it from me. Instead I had woken moments before Rogan arrived.
"This is where my father died." I spoke to the rock instead of to Rogan, who now knelt beside me.
"And you saw him die, from the trees just beyond?" I nodded. "And yet you are so strong. England isn't ready for strong woman," I glanced his way to see him smiling, trying to make light of the situation. I knew the words he was going to speak before he spoke them, "let alone Ipswich." He moved towards me and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead.
I had planned to oust him, to tell him I knew what he was, I had planned to out myself, to tell him what I was, but the words caught in my throat.
"Rogan, I know." I looked him dead in the eyes,
sadness creeping out through my eyes. "I know you're a wolf, and when the moon is full this night, you won't be able to control the beast that will take over." I stopped, the crack in my voice betraying me. My bottom lip began to quiver as I fought back sobs. He simply placed a single finger on my lips, motioning for me to be quiet.
"And I know you are the Huntress, and that when the moon hits its peak, you will have no choice but to kill me. But for now, let us sit and watch the day pass." He kissed my lips this time, gently and without urgency. Our kisses became let with salty tears. I had only today, for when darkness fell, we would be torn apart forever.
We watched as the sun rose to its apex and continued to watch as it began its descent.
"Nina?" I turned away from the tree line and the sky between the trees. I looked at him and saw what I knew I had not wanted to see. Fear. Fear of death or fear of me, I had never asked, but fear all the same.
