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One
Leona
My bridesmaid’s gown catches on the brush along the hiking trail. I pull it free with a satisfying tearing of the material. I should care about the gown and the wedding, but I only care about finding enough air to breathe. I had to leave the crowded tent where my sister and her new husband were celebrating their wedding reception. I should get a medal for gutting it out as long as I did. I stood up with my younger sister and watched her exchange vows with the man I was supposed to marry one year ago. A better person might have just smiled and sucked it up for the entire horrible night. I’m not that girl.
Making it through the toasts was a monumental feat. The twinkle lights covering everything at the outdoor reception by the lake were starting to make me feel claustrophobic. No one will notice that I’m not there.
My heel catches on a root and I stumble, but catch myself on a tree. My palm scrapes on the rough bark. The pain is slight, but my emotions bubble to the top and the tears start. I can’t stop them. I wander down the hiking path through the woods of Upstate New York.
A whimper that’s not mine makes me stop running. Did someone come after me? Why would they?
“Hello?”
The sound changes to a growl.
Narrowing my gaze, the light of the full moon is bright enough to illuminate a figure several yards away. “Who’s there?”
Maybe it’s a bear and I’m an idiot from the city who’s about to get mauled and eaten. I inch closer. After my fiancé dumped me and two months later announced he was going to marry my little sister, getting eaten by a wild animal sounds pretty good. “Who’s there?”
The noise stops. The silence is so thick my heart pounds.
The growl starts low and grows into a roar.
“There are no lions in New York,” I whisper to myself. “If you’re trying to scare me, you’ve succeeded, but I’m still coming through these trees.” There’s no way I’m going back to the hotel and having nightmares about this. Whoever is in there is probably a person playing a bad joke.
I push through a row of trees and underbrush. The stupid gown gets tangled and I lose my balance falling forward. My knees hit the ground as do my hands. Grateful for the layers of leaves, I stand and brush myself off.
My heart leaps into my throat. It’s a lion, but there are wings and a tail with a stinger at the end. It’s been a few years since I studied mythology, but I’m pretty sure this is a manticore in the New York woods. What does one say to a monster who shouldn’t exist? “Um, don’t kill me?” I step back.
Growling, it leaps forward on all fours but stops short and cocks its head. It sniffs, then looks at me as if I’m something new and curious. Its eyes are golden and intelligent.
Unable to help myself, I reach out a hand and comb my fingers through the soft hair at the side of its cheek. “What are you doing here?”
It leans into my touch and whimpers. The sound is like an injured cat.
I scan its face. “Are you hurt?” Stepping to the side, I scan its body and quickly realize this is a male beast and my cheeks heat. I’m definitely losing what’s left of my mind.
His tail looks venomous, like a scorpion’s, and it curves up, hovering over me.
“I won’t hurt you. I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” The beast is magnificent and I run my hand along his side. I graze the edge of his bat-like wings and then feel the softness of tiny feathers. I want to explore every inch of him, but I pull my hand back to his side, looking for whatever ails him.
Muscles flexing under my palm, he growls and backs away.
“I want to help you, but I don’t know how.” Frustrated, I step back to the edge of the small clearing. “Maybe I should go back to the hotel and call a veterinarian.” Even as I say it, it sounds ridiculous. Who would believe me?
The manticore faces me and lifts onto his hind legs, exposing his massive underbelly, some parts that look far too human and make me blush yet again, and a broad chest. He’s not as furry underneath and a red feathered dart sticks out of him just below his heart.
He bats at the needle with his large paw but to no avail.
“Oh no. Who did this to you?” I start forward and then stop as the beast towers over me by more than two feet. “If you kill me, you won’t get that injection dart out of you.”
The way his expression softens is almost human and the sound he makes is more purr than growl. Easing back on his haunches, he watches me.
Swallowing down my fear and pushing aside how foolish this is, I move closer. Of course, none of this is possible. I’ve probably fallen and banged my head. Maybe I’m dying somewhere in these woods. Well, if that’s the case, the least I can do is save the creature in my fantasy from whatever liquid is still in the syringe poking from his chest.
His breath is warm and as I reach him, his front leg wraps around my back. Touching me as gently as if he were a house cat looking for affection, he dips his nose to the crook of my neck.
My skin prickles at how close he is and how sensual this all feels with the moon shining down on us. Unable to resist, I run my fingers through the silky fur of his chest until I reach the dart. “I hope this won’t hurt too much.”
