Whispers of the Heartwood...
"My ideal type... Tall, dark hair, piercing blue eyes... Intelligent, confident, and a hint of mystery... Can make me laugh, even on my worst days... Loves adventure, tries new things, and isn't afraid to take risks..."
As she wrote, the room seemed to grow quieter, as if the universe was holding its breath. Emily felt a shiver run down her spine. What was she getting herself into?
Just as she finished writing, a sudden gust of wind blew through the room, extinguishing the lights. Emily gasped, her heart racing. What was happening?
And then, a low, smooth voice spoke out of the darkness: "Hey, darling... why are you up so late?"
