We continue toward the Whim. Ivy wraps around the two stone pillars flanking the entrance, already losing its color and withering in the cold. But the hedges are still green beneath the layer of snow dusted over them.
I’ve never much liked the Whim; it’s semisentient and shifts at will, changing its paths and altering its layout. I have an illogical fear of getting trapped in it, forever lost, but Poppy has never been afraid. At least not of the Whim.
“Tell me again why you like this place so much,” I say as we step between the stone pillars and onto the worn dirt path, snow still crunchy underfoot.
Poppy shrugs. “I’m usually afraid of new and different things. The Whim gives me a chance to face my fear of the unknown in a controlled environment.” She flicks a glance up at me, her brown cheeks tinged pink in the cold. “And Ithink it likes me too. Did I ever tell you that it led me to its heart once?”
My lips pull up slowly. “You mean the night you and Aric—”
Poppy holds up a gloved hand, halting me midsentence, her cheeks blazing red now. “Yes. That night.”
I love how bashful she still gets around us. It’s something I hope will never change.
“It’s not led you there again?” I ask as Poppy guides us through the Whim, traversing the twisting paths with no hint of hesitation in her stride.
She shakes her head. “No. Just that one time. Like it knew that night was special.”
“It was right, wasn’t it?”
Her only response is a deeper reddening of her cheeks.
I’m so glad things worked out between her and Aric. I would’ve had to kick my stepbrother’s ass if he’d ruined it.
We turn a few more corners, until I’m hopelessly lost. And after the bushes rustle around us, I turn to find the path back the way we came is closed off, with just a wall of frosted greenery to greet me.
It sends a little shiver over my skin despite me being bundled up against the cold.
So creepy.
“Oh, there it is,” Poppy announces.
I turn to see her cloak fluttering around a corner and hurry to catch up; I donotwant to get lost in here without her. And when I step around the corner, I find that the Whim has led us to a small clearing with a stone bench wrapped in the same withering ivy as the pillars flanking the entrance.
Poppy brushes the snow off the bench with her gloved hand, then tucks her cloak beneath her and sits down. “Come on.” She pats the bench beside her. “I brought snacks.”
My stomach grumbles in response, and I hurriedly take the spot next to her, snuggling up beside her and peeking over her shoulder as she opens her bag. When she pulls out a bundle and opens it to reveal chocolate chip cookies, I wrap my arms around her and press a big kiss to the side of her head, making her giggle. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best and I love you?”
She shrugs. “I know. And I love you too.”
We share the cookies—two each—and take turns sipping hot cocoa from the thermos Poppy brought along with her. A breeze stirs the hedges, sending little puffs of snow swirling in the air around us. And once we’ve finished our cookies and are down to the last few sips of cocoa, Poppy says, “You feel different now.”
I take one last sip from the thermos, then hand it back to her. “Different how?”
She looks at me—reallylooks at me, like she sees something on my face that I don’t when I look into a mirror. “Your static energy feels calmer.”
I arch a brow at her. “I was static before?”
“Well, not exactly.” She narrows her eyes a bit, like she’s trying to pick the right words to say. “It’s like the way you can feel energy in the air before a storm. But you were always like that. Like a living storm.”
“But I don’t feel like that anymore?”
She shakes her head, making her lavender hair swish around her cheeks. “No. Now it’s like...” She nibbles her bottom lip,then says, “Now your energy is like the air after a storm. Still electrically charged, but... calm. Like you’ve released the chaos. Does that make sense?”
I know exactly what she’s talking about, because I feel it in myself too. And it’s been there since the first time Severin fed from me. After his second feeding, the feeling only intensified. Even now, I feel something different lingering inside me, warming the space just beneath my sternum.
“Yeah. It does,” I say softly.
My eyes flick to Poppy again. She’s looking up at the sky, a slight upward turn to her lips. She’s the one who helped me when I was still trying to decide whether to ask Severin to feed from me. Maybe she can help me understand this change too.
