This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Otherwise, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2025 by Kimberly Lemming

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Amazon Original Stories, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Amazon Original Stories are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781662534034 (digital)

  Cover design and illustration by Elizabeth Turner Stokes

  Contents

  Chapter 1: The One Who Waits

  Chapter 2: Lucy

  Chapter 3: The One Who Waits

  Chapter 4: Lucy

  Chapter 5: Hemlock

  Chapter 6: Lucy

  Other titles by Kimberly Lemming

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  The One Who Waits

  The locals know never to stray this far into the mountains; tourists do not. I’m glad for it, obviously. Should the world lack fools and hikers and hikers who are fools, then the brief respite between decades of hunger would stretch on forever more.

  I watched them through the eyes of a raven. Three men and four women. They trampled over the fragile moss near the ledge where deer most liked to graze. One of the women lagged behind the rest, and when her foot slipped on the moss upturned by her companions, the weight of her heavy pack nearly had her fall off the ledge onto the unforgiving rocks below.

  The woman cried out, flailing her arms. I salivated, already imagining the succulent marrow hiding just beneath her bones. From a fall that high, her death would be quick, and I could sup the blood from her broken skull like the finest wine. Before she could tumble over the edge, she threw her weight in front of her and fell forward instead of back. Robbing me of the delicacy that was her body.

  How regrettable.

  The tallest trespasser, in a blue coat, rolled his eyes, as if he shared my consternation. “Are you all right, Lucy?”

  “PEACHY!” she shouted from the ground.

  A pale woman with hair the color of wheat giggled and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Mark, your girlfriend might not be cut out for hiking.” She spoke words that sounded like a whisper, but from the way the woman on the ground clenched her fists, I knew it was loud enough for all to hear. “Maybe next time you just leave her home? There’s no rule that says we have to bring our partners on these camping trips.”

  “Say it louder, Stephanie. They might not have heard you all the way back in town,” said a woman in pink camo. Where she was trying to blend into was a mystery far beyond my comprehension. Though, I had never been outside my forest. Who’s to say the land she hails from isn’t covered in shades of pink peonies?

  Stephanie shot her a look, and the two women argued back and forth in hushed whispers I didn’t care about. What was important was that Lucy was kind enough to drop a few beads of blood into the ferns tickling her thigh. One drop slid down the stem of the plant until it fell into the soil where I could taste it at last.

  Complex and full bodied. Sharp pangs of jealousy mingling with insecurity. There was a sweet undertone of humiliation that sliced at the palate from the embarrassment at her fall. Then came the bitter tang of envy. It was subtle at first, almost nipping at the tongue as she tried to deny it.

  My benefactor watched Stephanie and her supposed mate from her place on the ground. Neither even bothered to look in her direction, the rest of the group too engrossed in the argument. Lucy balled her fists into the loose moss, and the flavor of the blood that seeped from the cut on her thigh twisted further with frustration into an ache that pulsed and churned, unmistakably raw.

  The taste became heady, and I nearly exposed myself to lash at her skin with thorny vines to fill my proverbial cup. Underneath it all was a faint, lingering taste of longing—soft and constant. It was the most delicate and precious thing, one that came only in fleeting moments, best savored slowly before it slipped away.

  “Act,” I whispered silently. If Lucy gave in to her base nature and charged the woman wrapping her arms around her mate, then they’d both fall to the rocks below, and I could feast on their fat deposits for days. Hatred burned in the coal black of Lucy’s eyes, and for a moment I thought she might listen.

  Instead, she closed her eyes so tightly that tears pricked at the sides. “Damn them both,” she cursed.

  Mark jogged over to Lucy. She smiled slightly and reached out her hand. Instead of taking it, Mark asked, “Why don’t you rest here and meet us at the top when you’re ready?”

  “What?” Lucy snapped.

  I couldn’t help but echo her sentiment. Leave the poor succulent creature alone in my woods? He was practically begging me to devour her.

  Mark scratched the back of his head. “Look, it’s only another thirty-minute hike to the top, and we want to set up tents before it gets dark. Just follow the path straight up and you’ll be fine.”

  Lucy shook her head. “You’re just going to leave me alone out here? What if a fucking puma shows up or something? You know I’m not used to this nature stuff.”

  He let out a frustrated breath. “Don’t take this out on me. I told you this was a tough hike, and you wanted to come.”

  Her lip curled. “No, I wanted you to not go on a fucking camping trip with the woman who’s clearly trying to get in your pants!”

  “Keep your voice down. I already told you it’s not like that. Steph and I are just childhood friends. If you can’t handle that, then you need to get ahold of your jealousy.”

  She swallowed hard, lifted her chin, and boldly met his eyes. “Fine. Go. I’ll head back down on my own. Clearly I was never wanted here to begin with.”

  “Babe, I’m not having this argument again. Take a rest and meet us at the top after you’ve got ahold of yourself.” He turned and walked away. “Leave your attitude down here while you’re at it.”

  Lucy hurled a pebble at his back. It struck his left ass cheek, causing him to flinch. He shot a scathing look over his shoulder and snapped, “Real mature.”

  The strike wasn’t enough to spill a taste for me, but I found myself unbothered by the loss. The likelihood of that man’s flavor being as potent as the woman’s he discarded was slim.

  When the footsteps of her companions faded into the distance, Lucy let down her facade and wept openly. I tasted that, too, but was at a loss at the bitterness. Her anger was sweeter; her longing was best.

  How to bring it back, I wondered.

  After struggling to her feet, she wandered farther off the path to rest at the well where my body slept. The well was almost as ancient as the stones crumbling around it. Vines nearly sealed the entrance shut, but the moss covering the lip provided a soft rest for her hand as she leaned against it to check the cut on her thigh.

  Music rang from her pocket. She fished out her phone and slumped against my home with a withering sigh. “Jess, you were right. I never should have come here.”

  “What did that bastard do?” came a feminine voice on the other end.

  “He just left me on the side of the mountain like a pile of trash to set up tents with Stephanie.”

  “Wait, what do you mean he left you? Girl, where are you!”

  Lucy groaned and leaned her head against the well. “I’m fine. Just taking a break on the side of the trail. I’m half tempted to haul my ass all the way back down and ghost him. He doesn’t even deserve a breakup text at this point.”

  There was a clatter of plates on the other end of the phone. “Fucking finally! Yes, full support. Walk that voluptuous ass back down the mountain and forget that loser. If it’s safe to do so, I mean. Should I call a park ranger or something? Do they have those where you’re at?”

  “Fuck if I know. God. I just feel so stupid!”

  “You’re not stupid. You took a chance on the wrong man. It happens.”

  “Seems like it happens more to me than others. Is it so hard to find what you and Jazz have?”

  “Just try to . . . Hey! ¡Te voy a dar pao pao!” The sound of children bickering rang out. “Look, I’m sorry, but can I call you back? The kids got into the chalk.”

  “Yeah, do what you gotta do. I’ll call you when I make it back down.”

  “You better!”

  Click.

  Lucy rose to her feet and stared down into the well. She fished a coin from her pocket and held it on the tip of her thumb. “I’m tired of dating losers.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes, and she let out a shuddering breath before continuing. “I wish to be loved no matter what. The cheesy, happy kind of love that you see in those Hallmark movies where everyone and their mother is contractually obligated to own a bakery or a golden retriever. And none of the men have girl best friends that so obviously want to fuck them!”

  Her shoulders shook. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” With a flick of her thumb, the coin dropped into my well.

  I watched it fall, and a ripple of something long forgotten spread through my forest, shaking off the dust of centuries. Her offering, small and unassuming as it might have been, felt like the first breath after a long, dreamless slumber. Memories resurfaced of a time when I did more than feast on these creatures that no longer bowed.

  I was worshipped once.

  I had a name.

  What was it?

  Lucy turned to leave. If I had a mouth of my own, I would have begged her not to go. An ancient, possessive urge stirred in the leaves at the woman’s feet, and I wondered what I could do to draw her back to me. Have her speak her desires to me again and again and tell me the name I’d long forgotten.

  She wished to be loved. I could do that. I could grant her wish in return for the sweet offering of her blood and her token. Anything for my newest acolyte.

  No.

  Anything for my Priestess.

  Chapter 2

  Lucy

  Where did all this damn fog come from?” I could barely see in front of my face. Nature itself was working against me. As soon as I’d picked myself up from my crying fit to make my way back down the mountain, fog had spilled over the area like someone had turned on a smoke machine.

  “Should I just suck it up and head to the top where everyone else is?” Pride and survival instincts warred for dominance. I had already sent my proud, independent woman speech to the chat, and the thought of going back on my word now that there was a bit of fog did not sit right in my soul. Neither did being alone in a creepy-ass forest, but that’s where lowering your standards for a man got you. Stranded on a mountainside on some bullshit.

  It took us about three hours to walk all the way up here, but most of that was on me for needing so many breaks. My ass was far too jiggly for this level of incline. Going down most likely wouldn’t take nearly as long. Either way, the sun would be setting soon, and I needed to make a decision. As much as I hated the thought of returning to Mark with my tail between my legs, it was still probably the safer option. Mind set, I headed up the trail.

  A raven flew past my head and landed on the path in front of me. The creature turned around to stare at me, menacingly.

  I was not particularly superstitious, but a raven standing in the middle of the trail, staring a bitch down, did not seem like the best omen.

  “Can I help you?”

  Caw.

  “I don’t . . . I don’t know what to do with that information.”

  Something growled on the path behind the bird.

  “You know what? Down is good too. Good looking out, bird.” With an about-face, I rushed in the other direction. “Down is great, actually. Honestly, my first choice.”

  I scurried down the path, away from the creepy bird, not bothering to look back until I reached the narrow end of the trail that required you to hug against the wall of the mountain. I tsked, completely having forgotten how freaked out this part had made me on the way up. Shifting my backpack higher, I tightened the straps and slid my feet along the path. “Couldn’t they put an actual road or something here? They can make a tunnel for a freaking freeway through the mountain, but they can’t make a hiking trail that doesn’t require me to Charleston sidestep my way through a damn—”

  My foot slipped and I screamed, hugging myself against the wall. “Oh, fuck no. I’m heading back.” Reversing course, I started sidestepping right. A pebble fell on my head.

  I looked up, only to see more rocks tumbling straight at me. A large rock slammed down close to my foot, taking a chunk of the path with it. “Oh, shit!” I jumped to my left and shimmied like my life depended on it. Pebbles turned to boulders in an instant. When the path widened out enough, I bolted, trying to get away. The ground rumbled like an earthquake as dust kicked up all around me. Something hit the back of my leg, and I went down hard. Screaming, I covered my head with my backpack and huddled for safety as close to the mountain wall as I could get.

  After a few minutes, the dust settled, and I realized with no small surprise that I was still alive. My ankle hurt like a motherfucker. “This is what I get for taking my Black ass out in nature. This fresh air is an attack. I could have been home with a margarita, watching Love Is Blind. That’s it; I’m swearing off men. Dating is the evil of this world, and I will find a convent to become a fucking nun.”

  “You doing all right there, sister?” A voice chuckled. Out of the fog came one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen in my life. His blond hair was long and flowing, like in those Fabio romance novels, eyes bluer than the sky, and shoulders broad enough for some third thing I was too slack-jawed to figure out. With his red flannel shirt unbuttoned, I had a full view of the chiseled abs underneath. If the stranger didn’t look to be in his early thirties, I’d almost think he was Fabio.

  Flannel Fabio knelt down beside me and inspected my ankle. “That looks like a nasty twist, ma’am. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “I . . .” must’ve hit my head because words were impossible. “I . . .”

  The man frowned as he looked me over. “Hmm, I’m not seeing any other injuries, but you might be in shock. You should head to the clinic to get checked out. It’s not too far from here. Let me take you there.” He moved to scoop me up.

  I put a hand on his chest. “Oh, no, I’m heavy, and I’m sure I could walk on my own.” I shifted to get on my feet, but pain shot through my ankle, making me wince.

  “All right, this is where I have to insist” was all the warning I got before I was lifted into a strong pair of arms. He settled me against his chest and said, “See? A dainty thing like you is no trouble. I’m Noah. What’s your name?”

  I was a lot of things, but dainty wasn’t one of them. Still, Noah the Flannel Fabio didn’t even grunt as he lifted me. Fucking. Swoon. Did I say I swore off men? I meant dating apps. Yeah, that’s the one. “I’m Lucy.”

  “Good to meet you, Lucy. Ever been on a horse before?”

  “A . . . a horse?” I asked.

  Noah chuckled. “I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry, Clide’s a gentleman.” A white horse appeared out of the fog and trotted up next to us.

  Hesitantly, I let Noah help me onto the beast and relaxed into the saddle. Noah took the reins and guided the horse off to a smaller trail into the woods. “So . . . do you and the princely-looking horse just patrol the mountainside searching for damsels in distress, or am I the lucky first?”

  “You know, every day we set out with that hope but always turn up empty-handed. I was beginning to think beautiful damsels were a myth. Turns out I should have just been patrolling rockslides. But in all seriousness, you’re lucky I found you. My herd has been grazing on the other side of town for the past few weeks. If it wasn’t time to move them, who knows how long you would’ve been out here on your own.”

  “Your herd?” I asked. He nodded to what looked like moving clouds in the fog. Noah whistled, and a gaggle of alpacas came closer to receive a scratch on the head. “There’s not a lot of pasture in these mountains, so I have to keep the herd moving.”

  We chatted aimlessly until we came upon an adorable little town called Duskpetal. Redbrick storefronts along the main street, complete with hand-painted signs and flower boxes lining every storefront. Elaborately carved pumpkins sat atop every windowsill, while scarecrows in witch hats guarded the holiday gourds from any passing birds willing to take a bite. Delicious smells of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted from the little bakery on the corner, and I made a mental note to drop by the coffee shop next to it advertising Ansel’s famous pumpkin spice latte.

  Another ridiculously attractive man in flannel emerged from the bookstore across the street; he gave the shop dog a friendly pat on the head before approaching Noah and me. He was tall, lean, and beardless with a stunningly appealing face. “Noah, you sly dog. Where’d you find a pretty thing like this so far into the mountains?”

  And he had good taste. Duskpetal was starting to look like my kind of town.

  Noah flashed a grin and put his hand on my knee in a possessive gesture. “Ansel, this is Lucy; Lucy, Ansel, the best baker in Duskpetal.”

  “Don’t let Beau hear you say that.” Ansel chuckled. Then he brought a hand to his mouth and whispered to me conspiratorially, “It’s true, though. I am.”

  I inclined my head good-naturedly. “Nice to meet you.”

  Noah gave a small squeeze to my knee and said, “She got caught up in the rockslide over on the Eagle’s Nest Trail. Clide and I are escorting her to the clinic to see about her ankle.”

 

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