Page 256 of Awakened

I probably won't be winning any Packmate of the Year awards this year. Betrayed one Packmate and dragged the other straight into a mental breakdown at the scene of a crime.

Fucking solid.

A few minutes later, Riven returns with Dax shuffling in behind him. I try to catch his eye, but he won’t look at me, and I’m not going to force him.

“So, who’s ready to go find the willow tree?” I ask, but my voice sounds shaky even to my own ears.

Riven doesn’t seem to be affected at all. He grins and claps his hands together. “Right. The nervous breakdown part of this evening's entertainment has concluded. Up next, horticulture.”

No one laughs, which makes Riven sulk the whole way through the house and into the yard. The world itself feels like it’s too heavy.

When we step outside, it's obvious which tree Idril’s mother was referring to. The willow sits at the far back edge of the property, but not so far that it blends in with the forest.

Compared to the monstrosity of marble and stone behind us, the tree feels alive in a way the house simply doesn’t. It’s also the largest willow I’ve ever seen in my life.

Long branches are weighed down with sweeping fronds, long enough to kiss the ground. They sway gently, like a waterfall of greenery. Its roots are ancient and gnarled, poking from the ground like a silent reminder that it’s been here far longer than any who come to kneel before it.

With a reverence I feel but don’t understand, I lift my hands to gently separate the fronds, holding them to the side so we can enter by ducking under the canopy.

Sheltered under the willow’s branches, the world transforms into a silent, shadowed place. This is where a child comes to hide and dream. To pretend for just a little while that the real world doesn’t hurt.

I can easily imagine a younger Idril here. Alone and scared and fervently trying to cling to the only source of love and joy she’s ever known once her mother’s gone.

Standing here now, an odd sense of tranquility washes over me. If I ever believed there might be some way to step into another world, this is where it’s possible.

Right here. Right now.

Knowing Idril’s mother left her something, entrusted it to this tree's care and safety, feels inevitable.

Perfectly logical, in fact.

The wind shifts, whispering through the branches. I frown, certain I can hear the murmur of voices speaking in the distance. Muffled, like they’re underwater.

I close my eyes, straining to hear, but just when I think I can pick out a word or a sound, it’s whisked away like sand slipping through my fingers.

An elbow jabs me in the stomach, and my eyes snap open. I turn, shooting a glare at grinning Riven. “Sleeping on the job already?”

“Fuck you,” I snap, smirking.

I almost tell them about the voices, but when I open my mouth to explain, I realize I can’t hear anything at all anymore.

“Do we just start digging or what?” Dax’s voice seems loud to me now. Or maybe I’m losing my mind here.

Or… maybe I’m just hangry.

Riven shrugs and walks toward the trunk. He lifts a hand and presses it against the rough bark.

“Unless you have any better ideas.” He lifts his other hand and places it alongside the first. “Idril’s mom didn’t say anything else? Just that it was under the willow?”

I shake my head and glance up. Afternoon sun trickles in, filtering through the branches. The tree is so big I almost can’t believe three Alphas fit under here without bending over or crouching. It seems kind of abnormal, honestly. Do willows really get this big?

Riven crouches down to examine the Earth at the base of the tree.

“I doubt you’re going to find a flashing neon sign with an arrow pointing toward where we’re supposed to dig,” Dax points out dryly.

“Not neon, no,” Riven glances over his shoulder and gives him a grin that’s all teeth. He raps a knuckle on the trunk, right where his palm had been just a moment ago. There, carved into the wood, are the initials “I.V.’ and a symbol that looks identical to one of the runes I remember seeing painted in the basement where Annalise was being kept.

“Well, hot damn!” I crouch down next to him, and Dax joins us as I pull out the three small shovels from my backpack. Excitement bubbles up through my chest, sparking and jumping like tiny electric shocks. I spin the shovel with a flourish, finally feeling like we’re on the right track for the first time in weeks.