The wooden stairs creaked beneath Brenna’s weight, but she didn’t doubt their durability. Dr. Kilpatrick’s house was ancient, but despite creaking doors and the occasional stuck window, it was in good shape. Outdated, yes. In need of some modernization, sure. But livable? Definitely. Right then, that was all she cared about.
When she went downstairs and passed the living room on the way to the kitchen, she stopped dead in her tracks.
A black bird stood on the patio, looking in through the door. Not any black bird, a raven. The raven? It pecked on the glass.
Brenna blushed. She couldn’t explain why.
CHAPTER FOUR
Without hesitation, the raven strolled in as soon as Brenna opened the door. It walked across the floor, talons clicking on the hardwood. Brenna knew she shouldn’t let wild animals into Dr. Kilpatrick’s house, but the raven barely seemed wild. It was inquisitive and smart. It appeared well-behaved. It had somehow escaped the house yesterday only to return this morning and felt welcome to come back in.
Brenna decided not to shoo it away.
It clicked across the floor as Brenna filled a bowl with cereal and sat at the kitchen island. The raven clawed its way up one of the tall kitchen stools to perch on top and watch Brenna curiously. Much to her amusement, the raven joined her for breakfast.
Brenna couldn’t help blushing. It must’ve been the lingering after-effects of the dream. Something that hot wasn’t quickly forgotten. To make matters worse, in the morning light, the raven’s feathers reminded her of the strangers' hair. The raven’s dark eyes were also much like the dark eyes that had bored through her in her dreams.
In fact, Brenna didn’t dismiss the possibility her subconscious might have humanized the raven. The events she’d been through yesterday were bizarre enough to allow for it.
As she looked at this bird more closely, she thought it might not be the same raven who'd broken a wing. This raven was just a little smaller. And looked different in every way. Different eyes, a different shaped face and head. And a different shade of black wings. It seemed crazy. Surely they all looked the same. But they didn't.
No matter, Brenna dug her spoon into her cereal. She waited for the milk to stop dripping from the bottom, then lifted the spoon to her mouth. The raven watched.
“Are you somebody’s pet?” Brenna asked after she’d swallowed and dug around for another spoonful. “Is that why you’re so strange?”
The raven ruffled its feathers in plain displeasure.
“Either you can understand what I’m saying, or you don’t like the sound of my voice.” All of this was insane. The raven wasn’t answering her—she imagined things. “So if you’re not somebody’s pet, what are you?” Insane. The bird wasn’t going to answer.
It tilted its head to the side.
Brenna frowned and dipped her spoon into her cereal again, giving most of her attention to her food, but keeping an eye on the bird.
Eventually, the raven shook itself and hopped onto the table.
Brenna made a mental note to disinfect the countertop. “Okay. I guess. Go ahead. As long as you don’t—”
The raven pecked a rice puff from Brenna’s bowl and threw its head back as it ate.
Amazed by the audacious creature, Brenna scowled. She pushed the bowl toward the raven and planted her elbows on the countertop. “Guess it’s yours now.”
Dutifully, it pecked the cereal from the bowl until only milk remained.
Fascinated by the way the bird’s neck moved, Brenna watched. She couldn’t deny that the creature was beautiful. Smooth feathers, hard talons, and wise eyes—few other animals looked half as well put together.
The opportunity for this close-up study more than made up for the fact that an intruder had swiped her breakfast, and Brenna didn’t think to get herself another. That would’ve involved moving and might scare the bird away.
“Now you’ve finished breakfast, what do you want to do?” Brenna took the bowl from the counter and dumped the milk down the sink. What a waste. “How about we take you home, back to that pond?”
The raven didn't reply. It was a raven, after all, not a parrot.
Brenna’s shoes were on the mat by the front door. She returned to them and put them on. The raven bit at her shoelaces, nearly nipping her a few times in the process. She waved a hand, but the raven was bold.
Before she stepped out of the house, Brenna made sure she had her keys. The raven followed her out, then hopped down the few steps dividing the front door from the ground. When it reached the grass, it turned to face Brenna as if making sure she was coming along.
How much of this was in her imagination? At times like this, she thought her mom was right—she did need real friends and not just books.
She double checked the door was locked behind her, then followed the raven down the stairs and partway along the path. They crossed the lawn together, each crunch of grass underfoot bringing them closer to the forest and away from the highway.
Once Brenna showed the raven back into the forest, she was sure the raven wouldn’t return, and she wasn’t sure why the thought upset her as much as it did. She shouldn’t feel as if she were losing an old friend.
“All right,” Brenna said as they entered the forest. “We will get you home, okay? No more hanging around the house and pecking at the door. You belong out here, not where I am.”
The raven made a noise that sounded like distaste.
“Don’t be like that.” Walking and talking with a raven was insanity. But at least she was aware of how crazy it seemed so she hadn't completely lost her mind. And, at least, the raven hadn't spoken to her. Hearing birds talk would be the final nail in the coffin of her sanity. “You'll be fine. This is where you live. You’ve lived here all your life, probably. Or… or somewhere near here, at least.”
The raven clicked its beak.
“Don’t give me attitude.”
There must be something seriously wrong with her. Two days of solitude shouldn’t be too much—maybe she wasn’t meant to be alone. How would she survive three months? Brenna decided there and then, she’d seek out human contact later that same day.
They walked through the woods for a while. Brenna recognized the moss and mushrooms along the way. When she passed the fallen tree and the wildflowers, she knew they were close. Soon enough, they’d come across the mossy bank bathed in sunlight, and from there, she’d find the ravens’ pond.
The closer they drew, the more the raven lagged behind.
They’d gone a good fifteen-minute walk from the house. Brenna wasn’t even sure why she wanted to escort the raven back. She’d brought the raven to where it belonged—she'd done her duty. So why did she feel otherwise?
To her surprise, the raven took flight in a sudden flap of wings. Brenna sucked in a breath as the bird flew right by her, so close that the tip of the raven’s wing brushed her arm. The raven flapped to an uneasy stop three feet ahead of Brenna and struck a pugnacious pose.
How strange is that?
“Cool. Okay. I’m going.”
The raven didn’t acknowledge her but ignored her as if she didn’t exist. It stayed still, facing forward. It appeared alert and on guard.
Brenna was about to turn when she spotted movement through the trees. She stopped as more ravens approached. She couldn’t be sure they were the same as those from the day before, but they looked like it.
They were led by a bigger raven who looked similar to the one who'd been so vocal the previous day. It came through the trees approaching Brenna’s raven, and the two stood face to face in silence while the other birds moved nearer.
Brenna counted them.
Three stood behind the bigger one. Three were scattered to her left. Three sat in the trees to the right. Brenna narrowed her eyes to search, but the six other ravens were still missing… At least until she turned her head. The last six stood behind her as a united force.
This fierce-looking bunch circled them. A shiver ran down Bre
nna’s spine. All of a sudden, the forest wasn’t as friendly as she’d thought.
Brenna’s raven took a contentious step toward the bigger one.
Unsure what else to do, Brenna watched. She was pretty sure the rest of the ravens would descend and attack if she moved.
The bigger raven and Brenna’s raven stood in silence, staring each other down for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly, the bigger bird flapped its wings and screeched.
Taking a startled step backward, Brenna gasped. Whatever was happening, whatever games the ravens were playing, she wasn’t a part of it. She was intruding into something she had no business with. She had to leave.
Before she could move, Brenna’s raven puffed up, but even as she did, the rest of the ravens closed in. All of a sudden, darting forward like arrows, flashes of black feathers whizzed past Brenna’s head.
After scrambling backward out of their way, she turned and ran. She didn’t know if the ravens were chasing her and was too frightened to look back. The world shook with each of her footfalls. It wasn’t long before her lungs shriveled and her throat closed.
She slowed.
No squawking or desperate flap of wings tailed her. She’d lost the birds deeper in the woods. They weren’t interested in her. Otherwise, she wouldn't have escaped so easily.
When she stopped completely, she hooked her arm around a tree to ground herself, then leaned into it for support as she struggled to breathe. Brenna rested her forehead against the tree and closed her eyes. The hot morning air was stifling even beneath the shade. Her shirt was damp with sweat. She needed water to drink more than anything, but she’d left the house without her pack. Dropping the raven off was supposed to be a simple good deed before breakfast—second breakfast. She hadn’t planned on being circled by a gang of five-pound birds with wicked claws.
As she regained herself, Brenna opened her eyes and looked around.
She didn’t recognize this part of the forest, and she didn’t know how she could find her way back after she'd run in confusion and fear. She hadn’t set off ready for a hike in the woods so being lost gave her something new to worry about.
She was lost and ill-prepared.
Great.
Brenna bit down on her bottom lip. It tasted like sweat and reminded her how badly she needed a drink. Some streams and ponds ran through the forest, but she wasn’t sure if the water was suitable for drinking. She had no idea how to tell. Ingesting a parasite or exposing herself to dangerous bacteria were not things she’d planned as part of her woodland adventures, but what other choice did she have?
Two things soon became clear—she wouldn’t ingest anything if she couldn’t find water. And standing around wouldn't get her anywhere. Brenna was on her own. No one would come looking for her. She would have to find her way out on her own.
She took a deep breath and set out.
The forest couldn’t stretch on forever. Could it?
Three hours later, Brenna sank down beside the stream she’d been following and gave her feet a rest. She’d caved at the hour and a half mark and drank liberally from the stream. The water felt cold and tasted earthy. Brenna spent the next hour and a half praying it wouldn't make her sick.
With no end in sight to the forest, bacteria and parasites seemed the least of her worries. Brenna wasn’t a survivalist. She couldn’t trap a squirrel or hunt a deer. She didn’t even know how to identify edible mushrooms. She could last a few days without food, but how long would she wander in this direction? She didn’t have her compass to guide her, and no map. Her phone—the only thing she had on her apart from her keys—didn’t have reception out here. The forest was like a black hole.
Three hours meant she must've been walking in the wrong direction; otherwise, she would’ve come across the highway or Beaumont already.
What would happen if night fell while she was still in the woods? Brenna knew there had to be bigger predators somewhere out there. She dreaded the thought of what would happen to her if one of them crossed paths with her sleeping body in the pitch black of night.
She could only keep going and hope.
Brenna fanned her toes out, stretched her legs, then climbed to her feet. Tiny pebbles stuck in her palms. She brushed them off. It hadn’t been all that long, but her body was already stiffening from exertion. The heat wasn’t helping.
Brenna took a deep breath and resolved to be positive. Eventually, she’d come to a house or road or something. Even if the house she stumbled upon was remote, it’d mean that someone was around to point her in the right direction. They might even take her back to town. And if the house were abandoned, she’d have shelter for the night. With a roof over her head, the thought of spending the night in the woods seemed a lot less frightening.
The stream broke into two. Brenna followed the right fork, ever alert for landmarks she recognized. None of the trees were familiar. The plants, the trees, and even the sound of the insects were bizarre here. Brenna had a feeling she wasn’t where she should have been.
She felt a long, long way away from home.
She heard a noise in the distance. Brenna lifted her head to look.
A raven dove down from the treetops and came to a stop about six feet away. It was difficult to tell, but Brenna suspected it was her raven, either the one she’d rescued the other day or who'd visited her for breakfast.
The raven took a few steps forward, their eyes locked. Brenna pursed her lips, unsure what to do. She didn’t want to look any crazier than she already was.
If she continued to talk to ravens, she felt sure she would break.
She decided to keep walking.
The raven looked pissed, but that was surely Brenna’s imagination.
It ruffled its feathers and dug its feet into the ground. With a flutter of its wings, it jumped over the stream and scratched at the ground again.
Desperately wanting to cling to sanity, she tried to ignore the bird. After all, it was due to a raven that she found herself in her current predicament.
The raven demanded attention. It fluttered right up in front of Brenna and flapped its wings. Brenna could see this was not the raven from earlier but also not the broken wing raven. This was a different raven and crazy. Brenna could now identify individual birds, and they were all trying to communicate with her.
Nevertheless, Brenna had nothing to lose, and the bird seemed very insistent, as if it were trying to say something.
The raven took a few more steps up the bank. It looked back at Brenna pointedly as if to say, “Come on!”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Brenna muttered under her breath. She jumped across the stream and followed the bird.
The raven walked at a steady pace, never taking to the trees or straying too far ahead. When they came to an obstacle, it always waited on the other side for Brenna to conquer it before the bird continued to lead the way.
Time marched onward. The raven never left Brenna’s side.
Greater light suddenly broke through what had been dense forest. The tree thinned, and Brenna found herself looking at Dr. Kilpatrick’s house. Her heart leaped into her chest, and she turned to thank the raven only to find that the raven had already gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
Water rushing around her bare ankles as Brenna sat on the rocky shore of a natural pool. A sublime waterfall tumbled down from a rock face across from her. Mist sprayed into the air and kept things cool despite the summer heat. Brenna’s palms kissed the cool stone she sat on.
The air smelled almost like rain, as it had in her dream the previous night. But the setting for this dream was outside and not in the candle-lit bedroom.
It was peaceful here. Tranquil. Brenna moved her feet in small, circular motions and spread her toes. The water was cold and refreshing against her skin.
“You look peaceful.” The voice spoke softly into her ear, but Brenna wasn’t afraid. She turned her head to see the stranger. They sat side by side. The stranger’s bare thigh brushe
d against Brenna’s.
“It’s beautiful here,” Brenna said.
“It should be. We’re visiting your mind tonight,” the stranger replied. “I would’ve imagined you’d want something different.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Brenna said.
“That’s fine. I didn’t expect you to. Your eyes and ears are closed.”
The words made sense, and Brenna could almost grasp their meaning, but she couldn’t complete the connection. Instead, she leaned toward the stranger and rested her head on the man’s shoulder, as if they were well acquainted.
Brenna felt complete.
It was a strange thing. She’d never realized she was incomplete. In all regards, she’d lived a full life. She’d gone to school, earned a degree in a subject she loved, had some lasting relationships. She had hopes for the future, even if she didn’t have a path to get there. One day, she wanted a house and a boyfriend, a husband and children who’d share her love of books.
She wanted a quiet job doing quiet things. She wanted peace.
She found that here with the stranger—but she also found more. This wasn't the same man who'd turned her on so much the other night. Who'd given her the best sex of her life. This was the man who sat so close but not touched her. Yet, here and now, it felt as if they'd already shared great intimacy.
It spoke to her soul in a way that was both comforting and affectionate. It was like meeting up with an old friend and realizing that nothing had changed. Picking up on a conversation started and left years earlier.
“Will you tell me who you are?” Brenna asked.
“Maybe.” The stranger looked across the pool at the waterfall.
Brenna lifted her head. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“It would complicate things. You may go ahead and call me Corbin.”
“Corbin. And your friends, who are they?”
“My older brothers, you mean. Waldrom is the eldest of us, Victor is the middle brother, I am the youngest.” Corbin turned his head. There was a look in his dark eyes that irritated Brenna and aroused her all at once.
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