“You can call me Aurelia.”
After washing down the toast with some water, he smiled at me as he replied, “Nice to meet you, Aurelia.”
“You too, Forrest. And please, don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, but after you finish eating, I think it would be a good idea for you to have a bath. I’m not sure how long you were out there in the forest, but by the smell of things, it might have been at least a few days.”
Forrest looked up at me, clearly horrified that I would even say such a thing.
“I’ll get the bath ready while you eat, and I’ll find you some more clean clothes.” Then I hurried out of the room to get started on bringing hot water to the tub before I could say anything else to offend the poor fae.
After breakfast, I helped Forrest get out of bed. He was still a bit wobbly on his feet, so I couldn’t trust him to walk fully on his own yet, which meant I was going to have to help him into the tub. Once in the washroom, I had Forrest sit on a chair while I helped him undress. He was significantly taller than most of the men in the village, and he had a beautiful olive complexion, not a blemish to be seen anywhere. His body looked like it had been carved out of stone—every muscle was perfectly chiselled. I looked up at his faceand found piercing azure eyes staring back at me. If it hadn’t been for the fact that they were right there, staring into my soul, I might not have ever believed that someone’s eyes could be such a vibrant colour. He also had the most delicate freckles dotted along the tops of his cheeks and nose. He truly looked like an ethereal being, like he did not belong to this realm.
“Um, all right. I’m going to need to get your pants off. Can you please stand up and hold on to the back of the chair?”
He nodded and slowly turned to the side so he could grab the back of the chair. I took hold of the waistband of the too-tight pants and grunted as I tried to peel them off the fae. After several embarrassing moments and far too much grunting, the pants were finally removed. I did my best to avoid looking at his girthy appendage, but it was nearly impossible, given the sheer size of it. My heart rate increased, and a warm sensation pooled in between my legs. Meanwhile, my brain was screaming at my libido to stop.
Shaking myself out of my stupor, I positioned myself underneath his arm and assisted him into the tub. I poured some warm milk and honey into the bath water, grabbed a cloth, and started to wash him. I made sure to take my time and gently wash his hair, removing any remaining dried blood or dirt. My fingers softly massaged his scalp, trying to undo the stress so evident in his stiffened body. As I moved my hands further down, my breath caught as I ran the cloth over his solid, bare chest. My mind wandered off to places it had no business going to. What would it feel like to run my tongue along his chiselled chest? Would he like that? I took extra care in washing his arms and legs, to avoid causing irritation to the lacerations on his wrists and ankles. When I slid the cloth up to his thigh, finishing off his last leg, my face started to burn as I realized what was left to clean.
“Do you think you can handle washing your sensitive area? Or do you think you’ll need my assistance?” The words came out morepained than intended. I hoped if any of the goddesses were watching my current struggle, they would take pity on me and let him wash himself.
Forrest’s breath hitched as he looked at me with a slight smile. “I… I am still feeling quite unwell. I think I may need your help.”
Apparently, no goddesses were listening to me today. I gingerly reached into the water and wrapped my hand with the cloth around him. A small gasp left my lips as the weight of him rested in my hand.Just wash his cock and quit being weird about it, I thought. Embarrassment came over me in waves as I moved my hand up and down his length, doing my best to ignore the monster stirring in the water.
By this point, it was safe to say that we were both equally ready for this to be over. I grabbed a large towel, helped pull him out of the tub, and walked him back to the bedroom. He sat down on the bed so I could get to work on avoiding eye contact and helping him get dry and dressed. I had just finished drying his hair when he reached out and touched my ear. Shocked, I took a step back.
He looked at me sheepishly and said, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I was just perplexed by your ears. They look quite a bit different from mine. Are we not the same?”
“Um, no, we aren’t the same. I’m human, and I think you are fae.”
“What’s the difference?”
I thought about it a moment before answering. How did I explain something I didn’t totally understand myself?
“Well, basically, fae are beings with long lifespans and incredible magical abilities. Humans are the opposite. I’m sure there is more to the fae than that, but my knowledge is limited. Everything I know I learned from my grandmother and her books. It’s hard to know from the books what is fact and what is legend, though. I could show them to you, if you’d like.”
He gave me a confused and puzzled look. “So the fae are superior to humans? Are there other fae here?”
“Ah, I don’t know that I’d say they’re superior, since we really don’t know a whole lot about them. The fae are nothing but beings of myth and legend. I’ve touched you, held you, and talked to you, but I’m still not entirely convinced that you’re real. For all I know, I hit my head hard in the forest last night and everything since then has been some wild trauma-induced dream.”
Forrest looked down at the floor and sat there in silent contemplation for a moment before reaching some conclusion. “I think I would like to look at those books you mentioned.”
“Of course. I’ll go get them for you now.”
I brought him some of the books that mentioned the fae and let him look them over. By some gift from the Mothers Above, he understood the written language, and he didn’t seem to have any issues with reading it. Wherever he had come from, it couldn’t have been too different from here. My mind was spiralling in all sorts of directions, but I put a damper on my desire to know more for now. I had too much to do. I could have a philosophical debate with myself about the similarities between fae and humans some other time.
Chapter 4
It had been seven days since I found Forrest injured in the Nightwood, and six days since the Cult of Children declared all healing practices banned. My emotions had been all over the place regarding the latter. At first it was mostly rage. Then it downgraded into roiling anger and finally settled on hardened resolve. Despite what they thought, they did not control me, nor did they control the people of this village. They could make our lives miserable, though, and for that fact alone, it had been deemed safest for me to go about my practice under the cover of darkness and with the utmost secrecy. Since the ban, I had seen a handful of people who had been referred to my home for treatment by Magda. I felt sad that it had come to this, but I was proud of the bravery that this small group of villagers possessed, and that they trusted me enough to take the risk. We were in this together, and we would get through it together.
My emotions regarding Forrest had become a bit more complicated, and honestly, completely unexpected. Forrest’s recovery had come a long way within the last week. On the surface, all his wounds had healed, and the scars left behind were barely visible. Physically, he no longer required my assistance with basic tasks, such as getting dressed, bathing (I was still conflicted about this one), or moving around my home. Mentally, he seemed to be in good spirits despite not having regained any of his memories. I tried not to let on how concerning this was to me, because I didn’t want to cause him anyadditional stress or pressure to remember things, which would be counterproductive to memory recovery.
Forrest loved to spend his days in the living room, reading by the fire with Nocturna and Astra, while I worked away in the kitchen on my potions, elixirs, and salves. In the evenings, he assisted me with treating the ill villagers who came to visit me. There had been myriad questions about who Forrest was and where he had come from. He didn’t have to lie to them too much when he told them that he had no idea. We kept to the story that I had found him injured near the woods, minus the whole fox bit. I had also taught Forrest how to wrap his own head with bandages, so when villagers visited, he could hide his ears and play the role of a recovering patient perfectly. Although it wasn’t a viable long-term solution, it worked for the time being. I had been meaning to go into the village to buy him clothing that would fit and a hat, but truth be told, I was avoiding the task. Given my recent demotion in social status, I wasn’t exactly eager to get myself yelled out of shops or endure the not-so-subtle whispers and gossip about me and my “witchly activities.” It was something I had to remedy soon, though. He could only pull off the bandaged-head look for so long before people started asking why he wasn’t getting any better. I could only imagine how poorly that would reflect on me and my abilities as a healer.
During the quiet evenings, when Forrest and I were alone together, we would sit on the sofa and talk about the events of the day. Forrest would tell me about whatever story he was currently reading, and before long, this ritual had quietly become my favourite part of the day.
The last few days had been unseasonably cold. It seemed fall had lasted only a few weeks, and now we were being thrown straight into winter. It had started to snow quite heavily, and the temperature was well below freezing. Forrest and I huddled on the sofa, the fireplace blazing, reading our respective books—Forrest was readingsomething about ancient man and the goddesses, while I was working on another romance novel. The kettle was on the stove, boiling water for peppermint tea. Nocturna and Astra were curled around one another, asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace. Since the Cult of Children had banned my practice, this had been the first quiet night we’d had. It was peaceful and calm, a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of the realm around us.
Later that evening, several rough knocks on the front door interrupted our relaxation. After Forrest hurried off to his room, I opened the door to find a tall, stern-looking man and a petite, cowering woman standing on my porch—the woman was holding a small, swaddled bundle. She looked up at me, eyes swollen and red, and whimpered, “Please help us, Aurelia.”
