Epilogue

Christa's Obsession book 3 is a Sapphic Romance

Wanda

“You’re going to the city again? Why?” The words ran through Wanda’s mind, the worry for her brother, it breathed within her. And it seemed for good reason. The conversations with Silas, her brother, gave her a strange sense of foreboding. Those senses never steered Wanda wrong. She always listened to them despite the fact that she couldn’t often explain them if asked. Not that Silas asked, or would have listened to reason if she could tell him why she was concerned something bad was going to happen.

Silas believed in the good of people, and no one took her seriously.

She flounced off towards the river's edge, the evening breeze making her curls bounce around her cheeks.

Her green eyes glowed in the dying sun. It bathed her in an ethereal halo, surrounding her with its warmth. Her fingers ran over the blooms as she passed, offering what little she had left within her to the plants.

Dryads were supposedly solitary creatures, only bonding their spirit to a tree. Yet Wanda had never wanted to lose her connection with Silas. Their parents were long gone. Wanda, alone, had followed Silas to the forest where he had set down his roots, needing to keep her own rooted bond with him.

There she had come across an orchard. It sat on the far edges of the forest that Silas resided in, dying through neglect. The four peach trees left to fend for themselves, called to Wanda’s soul. Silas having already bonded with his oak, his powers for healing could not be given to another tree, not in the way they needed to survive.

Wanda was unique because she had the ability to bond with all four trees without diminishing her gift. They would surely have perished if not for her willingness to share her magic.

By following Silas, she had expanded her family, something she secretly craved. Although she understood that no matter how hard she had tried to cling to Silas, as with all dryads, he was destined for something else.

She loved Silas very much only she didn't understand his need to leave the forest, but Wanda, the younger sibling, didn’t crave anything beyond her orchard. Maybe a burger or two, whereas Silas wanted to head into the city and sing for those, who to Wanda’s mind, didn’t appreciate the pureness of his heart. She witnessed the destruction and carelessness of those who came into the forest. They left behind their garbage and trampled over the plants with no thought to the life they were hurting.

Dougal, Silas and Wanda helped maintain the balance of life in the forest and to Wanda, that was no greater gift. So no, Wanda didn’t want to leave the forest, her orchard, despite what Silas said about those he met. Sang for.

So here she was, fretting and terrified of all the changes that were happening in her small part of the world. Silas was a blissful one to a demon, no less. How this was possible, Wanda couldn’t fathom.

Demons, weren’t they evil creatures?

Destroyers of good?

Dougal, the troll of the forest, who was the font of all knowledge on such things as humans, shifter and all other beings, would have the answer, and all she had to do was ask. Only Wanda didn’t know how to ask. To express her fear when Silas himself seemed—content— excited by this situation.

“You got somethin’ on your mind, Wanda?” Dougal walked patiently at her side. As usual, he picked up her unease. The troll was perceptive.

She hesitated, then gave in, looking at Dougal as he walked quietly beside her like he had done a thousand times before. The troll wore a coat of many pockets, it never ceased to surprise her what he could find within it. “You’re right I do.”

She sighed, understanding talking to Silas about her worries wouldn’t help when he saw things so differently to her. Her lips parted, then she stilled, listening out.

Head tilting, her curls tumbled around one shoulder at the voices that carried on the air. She didn’t stop to think and took off, sensing where the interlopers were. “Someone’s in my orchard.”

The idiots were tramping around her trees.

“Slow down,” Dougal called out after her.

“My trees need me,” she called back, quickening her pace.

It wasn’t the first time humans had come to take from the full branches of fruit. Wanda was happy to share, she just preferred they asked first. Her trees did not like anyone else touching them. They could get a little testy about such things.

“You there, what are you doing?” she called out when in sight of the two tall strangers. One of which was running his fingers down the bark of the smallest peach tree in a way that Wanda felt violated. Her tree shook the branches, trying to slap the hand away.

Stop them. Her trees demand had her running when the big brute didn’t seem to notice he was getting whipped by branches.

The need to get them away overrode all common sense. “Stop that right now. They don’t like to be touched by strangers. I don’t go poking around your home touching your things, do I?”

They turned as one. An enormous wall of muscled chests, or so it seemed when they blocked the light, towering over her.

Eyes as dark as coal matched sneers that made everything inside Wanda scream for her to run. Their presence was unholy, yet the need to protect her family kept her right where she was. Chin poking out, doing her best to hide her fear.

The sense she was in serious trouble came too late when they grabbed hold of her arms, jerking her clear off the ground like she weighed nothing at all. She juddered violently at the feeling of their hands touching her skin. The dread she had felt earlier deepened. It attached itself to her heart, squeezing it in a painful, vice like grip.

Oh, to the forest goddesses!

She struggled to shake off the touch that sucked on the pureness of her soul.

“Great. The asshole got a dryad. That wasn’t difficult.” One of the men—demon grunted.

Wanda could sense the darkness surrounding his soul and her confusion at the words came with a slither of hope when she heard Dougal shout to let her go.

Only for violent shudders to run through Wanda, her stomach heaved and her eyes screwed shut when she felt herself leave the forest. The tight snap of the band severing from her trees cleaved her heart in two. The pain left her gasping for air.

“Get off me, you idiots,” she gasped, hoping someone might hear and come to her rescue. “Put me down this instance.” She kicked out her bare foot, and it was like kicking a tree. All it did was make her bare toes throb.

A hand smacked her cheek, the impact so brutal it made her head snap back and white spots dance in front of her wavering vision. Blood trickled out the corner of her mouth from where her teeth bit her lip. The throb of her toes didn’t compete with the pain coming from her cheekbone, which she was positive that ham fisted ass had broken.

“Shut the fuck up,” growled the one who hit her. They shook her violently, making her flap about like a shift on the breeze. A nauseating scent coming from them overshadowed the sweet smell of the peaches that lingered on her skin.

It was then that the air shimmered, and more demons appeared, all naked, they came closer, sniffing and pawing at her. “Let’s hope Rainer says we can play with her.”

A demon licked down her cheek to where her lip was bleeding and groaned sending terror through her soul.

Each breath dragged in the scent of blood, along with what she knew was death, degradation and sulfur. The darkness surrounding her broke with the cast of red lights, basking the room in a creepy glow.

Wanda whimpered, trying her best to stifle the need to cry out. Here she would know no pity when those beyond the walls in other rooms made inhuman sounds that sent panic through Wanda.

Flung down onto a chair that creaked and rocked at the force, the breath left her body. The room filled with yet more demons, larger, and scarier. Their cocks were hard and pushed closer to her face, arms, and chest. She shrank back, but to no avail.

Each touch painted her soul in misery. A sense of her life ending in this room came and Wanda could only pray it was a quick death. A death that Silas would thankfully not feel being in another realm.

“She’s pretty enough, I suppose,” a huge, naked red demon said, coming closer with ropes in his hand. His cock was enormous and engorged, brushing against her skin. “I bet I could make you look better, though, riding my cock. That would give you some color in those pale cheeks of yours.” The menace stopped her blood pumping around her body.

She had no time to consider how to reply, a scream tore from her throat, “arggggggghhhh,” at the large fist plowing into her unmarked cheek. The bone beneath shattering. She lost her vision when the pain hit her brain and registered as she slumped off the wooden seat. Only to find herself dragged back onto it as they used the rope to tie her to the chair.

Demon laughter rolled over her, much the same as the icky feel of the place, plucking at her sensitive skin, looking for ways inside.

More came into the room, her vision flickering with lights as Wanda tried to not let them feed off her pain and fear.

Tied to the chair, she much preferred the hitting rather than the turns they took, pawing at her, touching, taunting, and torturing her.

Endless pain, it sucked her to a husk. It came not only from their bodies, but from the separation of her trees. She had never left them since they had become a family, the broken connection left them exposed and her dying.

They would feel her pain, she could sense it.

She willed her death as her swollen eyelids drifted shut and sank into the pit of despair.