Page 6 of May: Bloom & Bane

I throw my arm up to shield Droot, and the creature’s vines wrap around my forearm with a gurgling, suction sound.

The black sludge eats into my skin, thorns digging deep to seek the marrow. It burns. Agony flares up my shoulder. As the creature tries to swallow my arm into its chest, I reach out my other hand and rest it over where his heart should be.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice thick. “The hunger ends now.”

I give him every ounce of warmth coursing through my body. It’s like pouring sunlight into a pit of shadows.

The black vines begin to blossom, jagged thorns softening, curling back into tender green leaves.

The creature lets out one last sound—a soft, exhaled sigh of relief.

The vines that were once his body weave into the soil, finally sinking into the tether they had spent a lifetime searching for.

I pull my arm back, the puncture wounds already sealing over with new green skin. The air in the clearing smells like a garden after a summer rain.

He is quiet now, Droot pulses, his little head peeking out from my neck. No more cold. You gave him a good sleep.

I stare at the vines, my hands trembling. “It shouldn’t have been like that for him.”

CHAPTER 3

even in eden

My heart is still heavy with the weight of the good sleep I gave the creature. I move toward a bush of dark berries and pluck a handful with my claws, careful not to puncture them. I hold them out, and Droot lets out a happy, high-pitched squeak. He dives into my palm, eating the berries three at a time. His nose twitches with purple-stained excitement.

“Eat, Droot,” I whisper, leaning against the bark of a magnolia tree. “We’ve had enough hunger for one day.”

Good, Sage, he mumbles around a mouthful of juice. Sage is the best gardener. The berries taste like… purple.

I manage a small, tired smile. “Droot? Why did your mother say I was tethered? Why does it feel like there’s a string pulled tight inside my chest, dragging me north?”

He pauses, a half-eaten berry still in his paw. Because the peony is lonely, Sage. She has been sleeping in the dark for so long. When you woke up, you finally heard her dream.

The thought is absurd. Someone dreamed of me while I was beneath the dirt? The string in my chest gives a sharp yank. I follow the pull until the air changes and the scent of old trees is replaced by something so sweet it makes my lungs ache.

“She’s close, Droot,” I say, my voice dropping back into the low rumble from earlier.

We move silently through rows of ancient trees until we stumble into the center of a clearing. The ground rises into a gentle slope, where thousands of lush peony bushes create a massive circle.

Crowning the slope, three massive weeping willow trees stand like sentinels. Their long green tresses drape down to the earth, forming a shimmering curtain that hides whatever lies at the heart.

My fingers tremble as I reach out, brushing the heavy, ruffled head of a crimson peony. It leans into my touch.

The willow’s hair hides the peony, Droot whispers, his little paws treading softly on my shoulder.

“There are peonies right here,” I say.

Not the one that belongs to you, he murmurs.

I pull back the curtain of willow branches, and my breath hitches. The peonies inside aren’t the soft pinks or deep reds of the outer circle. These are the color of a dying sun, like their petals have been dipped in liquid copper.

The air here is cooler. It smells like ripe florals and something warmer underneath.

The wind shifts, and the heavy canopy of the willow sways. A single, piercing beam of sunlight lances through the leaves, hitting something in the center so brightly the reflection nearly blinds me.

I flinch backward with a hiss, shielding my eyes with a mossy forearm. I blindly reach to cover Droot’s eyes. White spots dance in my vision as I attempt to recover. Droot tucks his head underneath my hair.

“What is that?” I mutter.