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Luckily, the Weaver chuckled. “Yes, I suppose you could think of it that way.” His rich, deep tone brought with it a shiver all its own.
I pulled my coat tighter. “Is there somewhere else we could go?”
He looked to a thin footpath hidden beneath a shuffle of leaves, the muscles of his jaw twitching again. Perhaps I’d discovered his “deep thought” tell.
“Yes. But you must understand. The home you see here is only accessible from this plane. You will not be able to find me in the real world.”
“Fine, as long as it’s warm.” I rubbed my hands together, frustrated I had no control over our current interaction and even more annoyed he hadn’t bothered to give me gloves.
In the next instant, wool gloves appeared on my hands, and the Weaver stalked away through the woods, a king in his domain.
The temperature remained cold as we walked on, the crispness speaking of mountains and fresh air. With a dusky-blue sky as the backdrop against the trees, I thought it had to be late afternoon.
“If this is a real place, then where exactly are we?”
He stopped, spinning to face me. “Why does it matter? I already told you, you cannot find it in the real world,” he stated flatly.
My gut told me he wouldn’t answer, but I had to try.
“I was just wondering.” I shrugged.
“Well, don’t.” He stared at me for a moment, his brows creased in worry and a fleck of sadness hinted in his eyes.
“Okay. Sorry. But remember you brought me here,” I whispered.
He lowered his head. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Picking back up, I followed him in silence as we wove deeper into the woods. Stepping over branches and leaves, I focused on the crunch beneath my boots until we emerged in a small clearing that seemed to serve as the Weaver’s front yard. Beyond it sat the quaintest, most adorable cabin I’d ever seen. The small A-frame with its dark roof, black siding, and warm honeyed trim framing the eaves and sills stood proud and alone, boldly carving out its tiny spot among the massive trees.
“Welcome to my cabin.” The Weaver shuffled on his feet like a nervous child.
“It’s lovely.”
He gestured for me to enter, but as I neared the front door, I caught sight of movement from the corner of my eye. Looking up, I gasped. The entire back side of the house was surrounded by an expanse of dark, shimmering water. “You live on a lake?”
His jaw ticked. “You could say that.”
Lured by the water, I entered the cabin and walked straight to the wall of windows at the rear of the house. The Weaver slid open the large glass door, stepping out onto the rustic back porch. Joining him, I stared across the lake and up into the sky, wrapping my arms around my middle. Snow-tipped mountains stood in the distance, surrounding us on all sides. “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
The Weaver stood silent as I gazed upon the serene landscape. Fireflies lit the night sky, mocking the stars forever out of their reach. The calmness here was unmatched and unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Even at home in my garden, I never felt a peace like this.
“I’m glad you like it. It’s the only place we can spend time together, but we can come back as often as you’d like.”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
He moved to join me at the edge of the porch, gripping the modern metal railing with strong tan hands. “It’s forbidden for me to spend time with anyone in the real world. Only in the dreamscape can I interact with my queen.”
“I’m sorry… what?”
“My magic comes with rules, Milly. One of them being that I can’t interact in the real world. But here, in the dreamscape, we can be together.” He smiled down at me nonchalantly, completely skipping the queen part of his previous statement.
“What did you mean… interact with your queen?”
“Each Weaver has to have a counterpart to achieve his full potential. And I choose you.”
With wide eyes, I turned back to the lake, dumbfounded.
How on earth had this man chosen me to be his anything? He didn’t even know me. Besides my magic, there was nothing special about me, and I certainly didn’t rank as anyone’s queen.
