Rain (Stranger in the Woods Book 1) by India R. Adams

Author:India R. Adams [Adams, India R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: India's Productions
Published: 2016-06-28T05:00:00+00:00

“Rest, child. Your energy speaks clearly of your intentions. I am not offended in the slightest.”

She has a strong presence like Nora, but it has a much harder edge. I’m instantly insecure and whisper, “Thank you.”

The elderly woman turns from us and walks through hanging vines. It’s some sort of tent, resembling something between a teepee and fairy home. The beautiful vines shield this home from sight. I jerk to look around and see many more homes blending with nature. You really have to be searching for it, or you could waltz right through this campsite, never knowing what you’ve missed. I quickly glance up to double check what I first suspected to be hallucinations. Now I realize there are literally little homes in the trees. I’m amazed at the creativity I’m witnessing. I can’t help thinking of Gunner and how much he would appreciate the woodwork. Oh, I guess his talents are for a reason.

As I’m carried into her tent/fairyland home, the woman explains, “You have been given a powerful herb at my request. What kind of elf would I be if I judged you for your reaction?”

I don’t know where it comes from, but my natural reaction is to bow my head at her, so I do. Ryder’s eyes go wide. I cringe because I might have just done something awful. As I’m about to open my mouth and apologize, the woman cuts me off as if she read my mind. “Be at ease. Ryder’s expression is merely with shock that your insight is so strong. But little does he know, his vital fluid—blood—is the strength guiding you.”

My head tilts. “His blood?”

“First things first, dear one.” She approaches me, offering her hand as if she’s completely aware of human ways. “My name is Isolde.” She speaks with a wisdom I simply cannot fathom.

I shake her hand. “Rose, ma’am. My name is Rose.”

Walking to a rickety-looking wood table with ancient bottles and bowls, Isolde almost sings out my name. “Rose. A beautiful-smelling flower of nature with thorns guarding her… I wander if the Guardians are each a thorn in the Blood Demons’ sides?” When she returns, she offers Ryder a drink from a wooden cup. His eyes have questions for her, but he takes a sip then hands her the bowl. “Swallow and kiss her, Ryder.” She walks back to her table.

Ryder swallows hard. “Pardon?”

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