Forbidden Forest

Syrus was in deep meditation. He was trying to figure out how he could keep Forest with him once his sight was restored. He could give her a title, but he knew she would hate him for it. She wouldn’t accept anything she didn’t earn. Why couldn’t he shut off the relentless mantra inside him that forever chanted she was his? Was it merely a strong physical attraction? Sexual chemistry and nothing more? Thinking that was painful. It wasn’t true. She was his friend. But did she really consider him her friend in return?

  A distant growling brought Syrus to the here and now with a sharp jolt. He had been lulled into a false sense of security, thinking that the dryad ghost was protecting them. He immediately stretched out his mage senses. From the sound of their movement and their breathing, there were three of them and they were in beast form. Damn it. Wolves were at their best in combat when in their half man, half wolf, beast form. Syrus listened intently. They were doing more than taking a stroll; they were skulking this way for a reason. They knew Forest and Syrus were there and they wanted blood.

  Syrus covered Forest’s mouth with his hand before roughly shaking her awake. As he anticipated, she struggled against him and screamed into his hand.

  “Three wolves are headed this way in beast form,” Syrus hissed in her ear.

  Syrus pulled his hand away from her mouth. She asked nothing but instantly got to her feet and reached for her sword. The wolves would be right on top of them in seconds.

  “We fight together,” Forest said under her breath. “Back to back, as long as we can. I’ll become invisible and you shadow.”

  “Agreed.” Syrus turned and pressed his back to hers, pulling his short swords from their sheaths.

  The wolves climbed the boulders, their claws scratching and skidding on the rock. The moon fell on their disfigured backs, outlining them. Three silhouettes like black paper cutouts with glistening eyes, claws, and teeth.

  Forest had never been in this kind of fight. She had never fought against a wolf. She was always on their side. One of these wolf monsters might be someone she knew, maybe even a friend. But there was no reluctance in her. They wanted to kill her mate. She would show no mercy.

  The wolves looked down at Forest and Syrus though they could not see her and he blended into the darkness, their weapons however were plainly visible, hovering in midair at the ready. They all growled and salivated revoltingly. The one on the right moved prematurely and jumped down before the other two. He died the second his feet hit the ground in front of Forest. She swiftly hacked a large x on the front of him, from his shoulders to his hips, and he went down without causing any more trouble.

  The other two barked angrily but made no move to join their comrade. They exchanged a glance, and then backed down out of sight. Forest’s heart pumped harder. These two would not die as easily as the first. Syrus’ back pressed against hers though his flesh felt insubstantial now that he was shadowing. The two beasts stood between the boulders, motionless except for their breathing.

  The moment hovered before them. Forest knew when it happened it would happen fast and they could be dealt victory or great loss; a possible bump in the road or the moment when everything would change. She had never felt this kind of fear before. Cutting your way through enemies for the sake of your job or your own life was one thing. Protecting what you held most precious was something else entirely. It was the first time she had ever doubted her ability to win. She and Syrus had stealth and weapons and mad skills, but the beasts had abnormal size and strength and animal instincts.

  The two beasts charged at the same time. Forest slashed at the neck of the one in front of her, but he dropped and skidded into her, knocking her off her feet. She slashed again at him but from her poor position only grazed his shoulder, a mere scratch. Syrus had thrown one of his swords at his opponent, stabbing the beast deep in the torso, but not piercing any vital organs. Forest scrambled desperately to get to her feet while the beast she fought swung and grabbed at the air, trying to catch his invisible adversary. Forest had to duck and roll to avoid his claws. She came up behind him and thrust her sword at his back, in what would have been a killing strike, had she not been knocked in the back of the head by the flailing arm of the other beast. The blow sent her skidding sideways and turned her strike into a long, deep gash along the beast’s back.

  The monster howled in rage and pain. Whirling around, it finally caught Forest by the hair. She was pulled down, the wind knocked out of her as she hit the ground. The beast wrenched her sword from her hand.

  “Syrus!” She gasped.

  The beast was now aware of where she was. It landed on its knees, hovering over her, about to tear her throat out with its teeth. Syrus had heard her breathless cry for help, and he moved so fast the dust twisted in his wake. The beast he’d been fighting, like the one now over Forest swung wildly through the air at Syrus. He ducked and ran behind it. He launched himself up with one step on the nearest boulder, twisted in midair, and the beast’s head hit the ground with one precise cut.

  Syrus turned to the beast that had Forest pinned and placed his hand on the back of the wolf’s head as though he might be giving him a genial pat. The beast’s body went rigid. Its eyes widened in surprise. Syrus’ face contorted with rage, and red waves of light pulsed down his arm like lightning made of fire. Forest remembered his story about becoming a mage and gaining the ability to weaponize his rage. What looked like a softball-sized red and black marble sphere appeared on his chest. It moved to his shoulder, down his arm to his hand, and absorbed into the head of the werewolf. The wolf got to his feet and staggered to the center of their little arena. Then a sound like breaking glass erupted from inside him. He gave one lurch and fell in a heap at Syrus’ feet.

  Syrus picked Forest up off the ground and held her in a tight embrace. “Are you all right? Are you hurt at all?”

  “I’m fine,” she said and then giggled with relief and hugged him tightly. "Are you hurt?”

  “Just this.” He held his hand up for her to see. A ragged gash on the fleshy area under his pinky ran to his wrist. “Caught me with one of his claws.” Syrus kicked the nearest dead body spitefully. “Rabid puppy!” He spat at the corpse. “It stings something awful.”

  “Maybe he infected you with something and you’ll start to turn half wolf,” she teased.

  “Shut up! That’s not funny!”

  “Maybe not,” she laughed. “But you are.”

  She realized then just how scared she had been, and now that it was over, she couldn’t remember a time when she felt so light and happy.

  “Yuck,” she said as she surveyed their camp. They needed to move the bodies and cover them with something. “We need to move our camp.”

  “Naw, we don’t. I’ll handle it. You might want to step back though.”

  Forest backed up out of the little protected area that was now disheveled and blood spattered, watching Syrus bemusedly. He stood with his back pressed against one of the boulders and stretched his arms out. His body began to crack and snap with the same red lightning that had danced along his arm. A cyclone began to twist in front of him, throwing everything in the small space into the air. Their backpacks and sleeping bags flew around the top while the bodies circled the bottom. A hole began to open on the ground like an ant lion's, and the dirt swallowed up the dead. Forest’s mouth was hanging open in amazement, and she caught a handful of dirt in her teeth.

  The little tornado spun itself into nothing as quickly as it had appeared. Their packs and sleeping bags sat neatly on the ground again, and Syrus emerged, shaking dirt from his hair.

  “Syrus, you’re awesome!” She sounded like a fourteen-year-old fangirl.

  “Thanks.” He shook his head at her, sprinkling her with dirt, and she shoved him away, laughing.

  “The dust scrubbed the whole area and our stuff clean of blood,” he explained.

  “I can’t say it did anything for your level of cleanliness, or mine.” She spit some dirt out of her mouth. They both were filthy, caked in
sweat and blood.

  Syrus grimaced as he rubbed his hands on his grimy jeans. Then his face lit up a little, and he smiled at her. “How about we take that little dip we talked about earlier, right now?”

  “Oh yeah! Race you!” She took off toward the smaller, secluded falls.

  Syrus laughed and followed at a leisurely pace. He was in no danger of losing her; the trail she left behind smelled too bad.

  As soon as Forest hit the small beach, she kicked her shoes off, threw her shirt in the air, and peeled off her nasty jeans, leaving it all in a pile. She plunged under the water, wearing only her bra and panties, and her brain did an immediate AAAhhhh! She stroked to the falls ahead. Nine total fell over the crescent shaped cliff. Most of the falls hit the water in a deep place, but Forest knew where to go. She put her feet down on the wide rock shelf, waist deep, the shimmery water splashing over her head and torso. The sheet of water concealed a cave behind it, and Forest fully intended to loll in the pool inside the cave once she felt completely clean.

  The water splashed down on her head and shoulders, washing away the grime. She turned to look for Syrus and spotted him moving through the trees. He came running, barefoot and bare-chested. As his foot hit the shore, he launched into the air, soaring like an eagle in a wide arch before plunging into the water in a perfect dive, fifty feet from where Forest stood. She watched him sliding under the water toward her and an intimate emotion punched her right in the gut. Forest felt her cheeks stain with heat. She turned away from him and lifted her face to the water as he came up for air behind her.

  Syrus had been enjoying the cool cleaning refreshment the same way Forest had when she hit the water, but the second he broke through the surface and inhaled, he snapped to his feet behind her. He inhaled again greedily. The smell of her skin and the water sluicing over it was intoxicating, but there was something else. The energy pulsing from her hit his skin and absorbed deep into his core. Everything about her was screaming for him.

  She could feel his heightened senses reaching out from his body, upping her already throbbing adrenaline left over from their victory. He said nothing, but stood a foot behind her. Even through the splashing water, she could hear his breathing. Or maybe she could just feel it. He moved closer slowly. Awareness rolled down through Forest from the top of her scalp. She held still as he closed the empty space, moving slowly, slowly closer until his bare chest pressed against her back. She leaned back against him, feeling him breathe in and out. The moment drew out into a tantric aching.

  Please. Please. He thought. Please, Forest, don’t fight what you feel for me.

  Just once, she thought. Now, here, once. Just once let yourself be loved. Know your mate once, and then you can let him go.

  Forest turned to Syrus and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Wariness came into his expression. She pulled his wounded hand up close to her face; it was already mending.

  “Does it still hurt?” she asked quietly.

  “Not much.”

  She raised it to her mouth and kissed it gently. Goosebumps covered his skin at the touch of her mouth. He pulled his hand from hers and dragged his fingers through her hair. She stretched up on her toes and pulled his face down to hers.

  “Forest…Please,” he whispered.

  She placed her hand gently over his mouth. “Yes, Syrus. Yes to everything.”

  Syrus’ touch, Syrus’ lips, drowned out her reason and her thoughts until all she could hear was her own pulse and the falling of the water. He held her tightly against him and pulled her into the dark cavern behind the waterfall. This would be her one true memory of him, of them. However short the night might be, every second would be forever burned into her soul. The cavern was small, and the water pooled around their waists. Light danced on the wet stone walls in a ceaseless echo of silver shimmer, and the falling water made an undulating diamond curtain over the mouth of the cave. Their breathing, like the light, echoed around the confined space.

  The moments flashed by, and Forest’s mind had completely turned off. The water they stood in would surely begin to boil soon, just as steam was literally rising off their skin. Emotion built pressure inside her, and she began talking breathlessly without any thought as to what she was saying. “I need to tell you something,” she said against his lips.

  He moved his mouth to her ear. “You’re not going to tell me to stop, are you?” he whispered.

  She chuckled. “No…I…” She bit down into his shoulder. Why was she talking? She didn’t have anything to say. Her mouth stayed happily employed on his skin for a few minutes when the words began to bubble up again. Her brain was a thicker fog than the one they were creating. So lost in her senses, she hadn’t noticed that his touch had changed from sexual to curious.

  “I need to tell you something,” she said again not sure at all what was going to come spilling out of her mouth.

  His arm wrapped around the back of her waist, pinning her left arm to her side and her whole torso against his. “Oh? Is it about this?” The venom in his voice sucked all the heat out of the cave and flipped the switch, turning Forest’s brain back on.

  His hand moved up and down along the length of her scars. Forest cursed herself for stupidly believing she could make love to him without him noticing. She couldn’t breathe when she saw the look on his face—disgust, pure and undeniable. Her eyes broke like full glasses of water, and her heart collapsed in on itself. She tried to pull away but he held her fast.

  “They’re just battle scars,” she muttered through her tears.

  “Don’t lie to me!” he shouted, insane with rage. “Do you think I don’t know what this is?” he demanded. “Do you?!”

  “Please…” she whimpered.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?! Why, Forest?”

  “I couldn’t, Syrus,” she sobbed.

  “Who did this to you?”

  “Please let me go, Syrus.”

  “Who did this to you? TELL ME! I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna tear his arms off and cut out his tongue and gouge out his eyes. No, he’ll watch me pull his heart from his chest and drink the blood from it before I show a single shred of mercy.”

  Forest couldn’t stand this. The repulsed look on his face and his irate ranting was too much, and she began thrashing against him. “Let me go! Let me go!”

  Syrus held her tighter and felt slowly and meticulously down the length of her scars. This was so much worse than anything she had ever imagined. His expression began to morph from disgust to utter shock as he touched every last ridge of her skin.

  “What the hell?” he muttered under his breath.

  Forest stumbled backwards as he abruptly let go of her. She bolted through the water before he could change his mind and pin her again or ask her any more questions.

  Syrus stood still, his body weighed down with immeasurable heaviness. How could it be possible? Who could be capable of doing such a thing? The vampire that had marked Forest had broken ancient law and placed two different kinds of marks on her. The lovers mark was only used by vampires in committed relationships in a ceremony setting. The lovers mark on Forest entwined with a slave mark. She was the property of the sucker who had marked her. He had total control over her, forced obedience. Against his will, Syrus’ mind blurred with images of things he wished he’d never imagined. He had to know the truth.

  Forest ran through the darkness back to their camp. How could she ever face him again? What could she say? Her mind got stuck on one thought that repeated over and over: Damn you, Leith! Damn you! She had wanted one night, just one night to love Syrus, and Leith had ruined that. Now it would never happen. Now Syrus found her gross, and he wouldn’t want to touch her ever again.

  She quickly rummaged through her bag and found some clean jeans and a shirt. She put them on as fast as she could, in case Syrus came back to camp. She didn’t think she could face him now. She needed to regroup and come up with a convincing lie that would explain her scars. Maybe she could convince Syrus t
hat they weren’t what he thought they were.

  But she wasn’t fast enough. Syrus came charging out of the darkness and hit her with a spell that lifted her three inches off the ground. The spell held her immobile in the air. She could talk and look around, but nothing else.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “I need the truth, and you won’t give it to me, or you can’t.”

  Forest had thought her horror had reached its pitch for the evening but she’d been wrong.

  Syrus held his hands next to the sides of her head. His jaw clenched so tightly she could hear his teeth grinding together.

  “No, Please! Please, Syrus don’t do this! All I have is my pride. Really, that’s all. I’m begging you, don’t make me debase myself.”

  His look of determination faltered, and he turned away from her, pacing back and forth. His fists clenched and unclenched over and over. He muttered and argued with himself.

  “No! I have to know, Forest.” He put his hands back next to her head.

  “Please!” she sobbed.

  “I’ll only take the memories directly connected to your scars.”

  “NO!” But her protest was cut off as she was forced to look at the memories that were now transferring into Syrus’ mind. She had never wanted to die so badly.

  Syrus was disoriented as he began to experience Forest’s memories. It wasn't like watching a movie or being a bystander. He saw through her eyes, from her perspective. Forest watched as Syrus lived what she had. He shut his eyes as if that could make him more blind and continuously shook his head back and forth. It didn’t take long for him to see all he needed to.

  Syrus turned his back on her. The spell broke and dropped Forest in a heap on the ground. She watched him walk away until the shadows swallowed him. Forest turned her face into the ground and wept. A second later, Syrus raised his voice in a roar of rage and agony that split the sky and rippled through the entire wood. Forest got to her feet and ran in the opposite direction, to the Heart.

  Syrus returned to the camp as soon as he had regained some level of self-control and found Forest gone. He didn’t know if he was relieved that she was gone or not. He needed more time to digest the truth. The last thing he wanted was to injure her further by saying something stupid. He sat down and placed his head in his hands. She’d been so young, so very young to be the victim of such a terrible crime. Seeing it through her eyes had been traumatizing to Syrus and it helped him understand to a level he certainly didn’t desire. Experiencing the memory of the first time Leith had raped her had caused something inside Syrus to break.

  Rage boiled the blood in his head again as he thought about how the bastard had stalked her, and laid in wait with a handful of shadow sand that he threw into her eyes the second she walked around that corner. She had been covered with his bite marks that time, giving him a strong, persuasive power over her. He made her come to him over and over, and she’d had no choice. But she fought, and he was in danger of her killing him or reporting him, but that was before he’d truly marked her.

  Syrus had to remind himself that they weren’t his memories. He felt what she felt, and he wished he could wipe it from his mind. But he needed to examine closely what Leith had done to create the mark he left on Forest. Reluctantly he brought her memory back to the forefront of his mind from where his subconscious was already trying to bury it.

  Leith had brutalized her that night, worse than any other time before. Forest focused her eyes on the pile of her ripped clothes by her head and concentrated her mind on how best to repair the split seams while Leith satiated himself on her. He’d abruptly gotten up and left the room when he was done, leaving her exposed and broken on the floor. She was about to get up and try to leave when he came back with a rope. Syrus shuddered and forced himself to continue watching.

  Leith had an old book open on the floor next to where Forest was tied up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to make you mine forever. I love you that much.”

  Leith studied the book for a few minutes. Forest knew it was futile to scream, no one would hear. If they did, they wouldn’t care. It was futile to beg—he would only get off on that. She had no weapons, nothing to bargain with. She couldn’t even move. So she lay quietly, watching the person she hated most in the world as he poured over a book in the last minutes of her freedom.

  Leith lay the book aside and began her slave mark first. Slave marks were supposed to be small straight lines on the upper part of the arm. Leith started just under Forest’s ear, and using his sharpest incisor sliced an unbroken line to her elbow. Then he bit into one of his fingers and bled a line of his blood into her wound. It was the first time Forest wished for death. Her flesh pulled together and began healing. She was property now. Her inferiority was complete, the knowledge imbued inside her.

  Syrus didn’t know if that was worse than what came next. His rage had grown into an inferno and was salivating for Leith’s blood. There was only one tiny shred of sanity inside him, and it demanded that he finish watching her memory.

  Lover’s marks were simple. Two vampires in a loving, committed relationship often marked each other as a symbol of monogamy. It's simply a deep bite with transference of blood. Before biting, each vampire will pool a small amount of their own blood in their mouth, usually by cutting a small place on the tongue by running it along a sharp tooth. The bite mark heals into a crescent scar. Lover’s marks strengthen the love between the two, but it is by no means unbreakable. Ending a relationship and taking a new lover will erase the previous mark.

  Leith began again just under her ear and bit her seven times, entwining the crescents with the straight slave mark. The lover’s marks confused Forest’s heart. At times, she believed he loved her, and occasionally she questioned if she might love him in return. Leith had created something new with Forest, and Syrus didn’t know if it could be removed.

  Syrus took a few deep breaths and let his mind release the memory back into the dark recesses where he wanted to wall it in. He hated himself for taking her memories. He had raped her as well, just in a different way, and he’d give anything to undo it. He feared she’d never let him close to her again.

  He thought back to right before, when they were together under the waterfall. Her willingness to be with him, wanting to be with him, and he knew now how all those scars must have hurt every time he touched her. That alone was a testament to how much she really must feel for him. His heart pulled as he realized the extent.

  Syrus stood abruptly and calling on the strength of his senses, he ran after her.

  Forest reached the ribcage with the thought of finding Shi, but now she was so distraught she didn’t even know which direction she had come from. She fell at the base of a tree and tried to will herself to die. She pressed her hands over her heart and closed her eyes.

  “Stop,” she whispered to her heart, her voice growing faint. “Stop, stop, stop, stop… just let me die.”

  Her heart didn’t listen. “Don’t you get it?” she said to the stupid organ. “He doesn’t want you. He’ll never want you.”

  “That’s not true.”

  Forest startled at the sound of Syrus’ voice behind her. He strode up to her, bent over, and scooped her off the ground. Forest went limp in his arms. She had no more fight left. He turned around and began carrying her back towards their camp.

  “You love me, don’t you?”

  She sighed heavily. “I did.”

  “You will again.”

  She collapsed into sleep on his shoulder and knew no more until morning.