Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
A comfort healer content with her simple life…
A Northland warrior guarding dangerous secrets…
And a forbidden land where nothing is as it seems.
Bria has always been content with her quiet life in Willowmere. As a comfort healer, her gift brings peace to those who suffer, and she never wished for anything more.
Then a wounded Northland warrior arrives.
From the moment Kaelan meets Bria, an undeniable bond forms between them. Determined to protect her, he soon discovers that keeping Bria safe is far more difficult than guarding his own heart.
When a dangerous journey leads them into the forbidden land of Driochmor, they encounter trolls, fairies, witches, and ancient secrets long hidden from the rest of Scotara. As enemies move from the shadows and danger closes in, Bria and Kaelan must rely on one another as never before.
Yet the deeper they venture into Driochmor, the more Bria realizes the forbidden land holds secrets that reach far beyond its borders. Secrets that could change her life forever.
As mystery and magic entwine, Bria and Kaelan discover that some paths cannot be avoided, some truths refuse to remain hidden, and some loves are worth risking everything to protect
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
The Leighfeld Region
Home of the Healers
The forest had begun to change.
Bria felt it before she truly saw it, in the way the air moved across her skin and settled deeper in her lungs with each breath she drew. It carried a sharper chill than it had only days before, not yet the full bite of winter, but a quiet warning that it would not be long in coming. Leaves had already begun their slow surrender to the season, drifting loose from branches to gather beneath her feet, their muted crunch marking her passage along the narrow path.
Her thoughts drifted briefly to the village she had left behind, to the young mother whose labor had come early and hard, and to the long hours spent easing her through pain that had threatened to overwhelm her. The bairn had come safely. A tiny lass, strong and determined from her first cry, and Bria, having done her part, left the woman and bairn in the capable hands of the local midwife and set out alone for home—Willowmere.
It was not her habit to travel without company, nor her preference. A comfort healer was often accompanied, whether by a mender prepared to stitch and bind, a bone-keeper ready to set what had broken, a fever-tender who could watch for signs that others might miss, or a seasoned midwife. This particular birth did not require one since the village already had a skilled midwife. Each healer brought what the other could not, their skills working together where need demanded it.
Bria was different. She brought calm. She was a comfort healer.
Her touch had always eased what troubled those in her care, quieting pain and fear alike. It was not something she had learned, but something that had simply been hers for as long as she could remember.
A sound interrupted her thoughts, and she slowed her steps, tilting her head to the side to listen, but heard nothing. She pulled her cloak more securely around her shoulders and continued walking, eager to reach home. The forest had always been familiar to her. She had walked it since she was a child, gathered from it, learned its quiet language. It spoke in subtle ways, and those who listened understood when something was not quite right.
And she felt that now—something was not quite right.
She hastened her steps. She wasn’t that far from home, the safety of her cottage, her work with the healers, and the joy she got from the various wreaths and necklaces she crafted. All were made from what the forest generously provided and the shoreline with its endless supply of seashells, stones, and broken glass that the sea had tumbled around for years and smoothed to beautiful perfection before leaving it on the shoreline for her.
Her head shot up and instinct halted her steps abruptly upon hearing the strange sound once more.
The previous one had been faint enough that she might have dismissed it had it not come again, just beyond the reach of certainty. It did not belong to the steady rhythm of the forest, nor to the small, familiar movements of creatures that kept to their hidden paths. It lingered in the air, not loud, not distinct, but different enough to draw her attention and hold it there.
She remained still, not making a sound, and listened more carefully now. Her gaze moved between the trees as though she might find its source if she looked long enough.
The forest answered with silence. Not the natural quiet she knew, filled with distant movement and life just beyond sight, but something more complete, as though sound itself had drawn back and left the space around her undisturbed.
The absence settled heavily, and Bria drew a slow breath, her fingers tightening lightly against her cloak as she considered her next step. She had traveled this path too often to be unsettled by every unfamiliar sound, and yet this felt different in a way she could not easily dismiss.
Another sound came then, deeper and more distinct. It was not the soft rustle of leaves disturbed by a passing breeze, nor the distant call of bird or small creature moving unseen among the branches, but something that carried weight to it, something that moved through the forest rather than within it.
Her unease deepened and she contemplated what to do. But what choice did she have? She needed to get home as fast as she could, yet running didn’t seem like a good idea. Such a sturdy, quick pace would be heard, revealing her presence.
She continued to listen, her attention fixed on the direction she believed the sound came from, since sound came differently in the vast forest. After several silent moments passed, she took a cautious step forward, sensitive to every small noise.
After a few steps, she realized that was the problem; she heard no sounds. The forest had gone still as if it held its breath.