Wild Desire Ch. 01

With every step forward, Daniella's heart pounded harder, her body shaking with unease. For the hundredth time that morning, she checked the map her faculty advisor had given her. The map, which he had said would lead her to a particularly active butterfly breeding ground, was old and worn from years of use. Her advisor was nearing retirement, after all.

She paused as she stared at the map and checked her compass again. She was deep in the forested mountains and had been hiking for over four hours already. She had always been good at orienteering, and while there wasn't a well-marked trail to follow, she had easily found the landmarks notated on the map.

She had crossed the slow-moving, lazy late summer river. She had skirted the sheer cliff face that resembled a sleeping giant. Then had come a wide flat meadow dotted with lupine and snow drops. And now, she was in the middle of a large wooded mountain, following the winding path of a small stream.

She was definitely going in the right direction. But the forest around her felt wrong. The trees around her were old growth, very old. They towered far above her and seemed almost to stare down at her with cold malice.

Some time ago — she's wasn't sure when — the forest had grown eerily quiet. The summertime hum of crickets and cicadas had petered out. The chirps and squawks of woodland birds had gone silent. The high mountain chipmunks that were usually so curious about hikers, or at the very least put up a fuss if you came too close their nests, were nowhere to be found.

Daniella drew in a deep, shuddering breath and tried to slow her racing heart. In the unnaturally still woods there was nothing to muffle the sound of her harsh breathing. She wondered a little wildly how far the sound of her panting breaths would carry. She tried to quiet her thoughts. Panicking was a surefire way to a quick, pointless, and preventable death in the wilderness.

She sipped her water and inhaled deeply until her breathing and heart were a little more under control. With her mind a bit clearer, she looked again at the map and mentally traced her path that morning. She was confident she had followed the map correctly, but she had been hiking for hours now and it didn't feel like she was headed toward anywhere butterflies would congregate. There would be one last landmark to look out for, a grove of aspen trees tucked into a sharp bend in the stream she was following, and then she should be there.

Daniella put her water back in her pack and took stock of herself. She loved hiking and ran regularly, and she was just on the edge between a runner's high and the long slide into true fatigue. Her legs were starting to get a light burn from exertion, but she felt good and nothing truly hurt.

She had started out early and by the looks of the map her destination wasn't far. She just needed to keep herself from getting spooked over nothing and she would be able to document what her advisor had promised to be the most incredible butterfly gathering of her young career.

Daniella pulled her silky strawberry blonde hair out of her ponytail and combed her fingers through it to sooth herself before tying it back up in a messy bun. Bolstered by her short rest, the young ecologist continued up the mountainside.

An hour after passing the aspen grove and sharp bend in the river, Daniella stopped again. Now she was certain of it; she should have arrived at the butterfly breeding grounds by now. She had been hiking for over half the day and if the map was drawn to scale, she had been close to reaching her destination the last time she had stopped.

The aspen grove was practically drawn on top of her destination. There was no way it should have taken more than twenty minutes to find the butterfly breeding grounds once she had passed the unmistakable bend in the river.

The tension and fear Daniella had worked so hard to suppress all morning bloomed outward from her heart and settled sourly in her stomach. She didn't want to admit it, but there was no other explanation: she was lost.

The sun was high in the sky now, shining with the full intensity of high summer, but she was practically freezing. She rubbed her bare arms as she walked, more unnerved than ever. The sky was clear, bright blue without a hint of cloud cover. She should have been sweating.

She had dressed for summer in a sports bra, mesh hiking shirt and shorts, and had even brought a small towel in case she wanted to take a dip along the way. She rubbed her arms in a futile effort to warm herself up and forced herself to walk faster. She just needed to get her blood pumping a bit more, she told herself.

Before long, Daniella was shivering so hard it was getting difficult to walk. She didn't want to admit it, but it was time to give up. She unfolded her map again, staring in mute frustration at it. With a shaking fingers she unzipped her backpack and shoved the map inside. It was already early afternoon and if she wanted to make it back to her car by nightfall, she needed to turn around.

Maybe her advisor hadn't gone in a long time and the butterflies had chosen a new breeding ground. She blew a sigh through her nose and started retracing her steps, keeping the stream she had followed through the woods in view.

Within minutes she entered the aspen grove and saw the creek bending sharply. Daniella paused and looked at her watch. She had hiked past the grove for an hour and it had taken her ten minutes to return to it. She frowned. Maybe the cold weather had made her sluggish? She shook her watch to wind it, just in case.

Daniella picked up her pace, eager to clear the grove and get back down the trail toward home. The complete stillness and silence for the last several hours combined with the bone-chilling weather had been enough. Now she was starting to wonder if dehydration or nerves were messing with her head.

Daniella checked her watch again. She had been half-walking, half-running through the aspen grove for over ten minutes. The bend in the river still seemed to be right ahead of her. That couldn't be right. Daniella broke into a run, lungs burning from cold and heart pumping wildly from fear and exertion.

The tall, white trees became blurred shapes as tears filled her eyes, while the stream remained a constant flicker of silver to her left. When she couldn't keep up her pace she slowed to a jog and finally a walk. She checked her watch in disbelief. She had been in the aspen grove for half an hour and it still stretched endlessly before her.

Daniella wanted to sit down and cry. She was exhausted and confused. She trudged forward slowly. The run had leeched the terror from her body, leaving behind burning lungs, parched throat and gnawing hunger. As soon as she felt cooled down enough to stop moving without cramping up, she crumpled into herself on the ground with her back to one of the trees.

Since there was nobody there to see her, Daniella let her unshed tears roll down her face. The only person who knew where she had gone was her faculty advisor, and he wouldn't register her absence until at least Monday or even Tuesday. She didn't have any roommates or a boyfriend to raise the alarm if she didn't return from a hike. Her parents lived in another state and she only called home for holidays and birthdays, so they wouldn't notice she was missing for months.

Daniella wiped her tears and pulled her lunch out of her backpack. She had planned to eat once she reached the butterflies, and she was starving now.

With a bit of food in her, she was starting to feel less shaky. She reasoned that she had to face facts. The only person who could help her was her, and that wasn't anything new, was it? It had been a long time since anyone else had taken care of her.

She had put herself through college thousands of miles from home, and then had done the same through grad school. She told herself she was smart. She was an experienced hiker. She was brave. She just had to think logically, conserve her food and water, and continue along the way she had come.

Just as she was getting ready to get back up, a chipmunk skittered from around a tree, eying her trail mix with jittering curiosity. The tiny thing was gorgeous, with iridescent stripes down its back that shimmered green and purple in the light.

Daniella wanted desperately to get a closer look. She had never seen a chipmunk with that coloring before. As if it understood her, the little chipmunk chirped and started forward toward her. When it was within reach it seemed to think better of getting too close and darted back to a tree a few feet away, disappearing in seconds.

Suddenly, the woods were alive again. Daniella noticed the buzz of insects interwoven with the rushing sound of the wind running through the aspen leaves and the hopping burble of the stream. She stood slowly, afraid to do anything that might upset the forest and cause it to go silent again.

Daniella crept along on silent feet, barely breathing. She kept the stream just in view and walked with measured paces, determined to keep a level head so that she could finally get home. Before long she started getting hot. She wondered how the temperature had risen so quickly without her noticing.

She glanced behind her and saw the sharp curve of the stream. Ahead of her, the aspens looked like they were thinning out. She thought she might be able to make out the dark green and brown of pine trees just beyond them. With profound relief Daniella picked up her pace. If she kept up a brisk pace, she would make it back to the parking lot before nightfall.

Daniella broke through the aspen trees and stopped abruptly. Instead of the pine forest she had expected, the stream had led her into an unending clearing dotted with — improbably — giant redwoods. She blinked in disbelief. The clearing was criss-crossed with meandering paths of soft, green moss bordered neatly by lush ferns.

Trees wider than houses and taller than she could see surged up from the forest floor, and between them swung delicate rope bridges. Daniella had the strangest sensation of falling as she stared at the beautiful settlement, and wondered for a moment if she was actually dreaming.

She didn't see any people and the idea of calling out into the serene expanse of redwoods seemed as ludicrous as yelling in a cathedral.

Daniella moved forward into the clearing, following a path of moss like a moth drawn to flame. As she followed the path she noticed other paths branching out toward towering trees like little tributaries, but still she saw no sign of people.

Daniella wondered what sort of people had lived here. Perhaps it was a long abandoned indigenous village, though it seemed too well kept for that. Maybe hippies, she thought with a bit of amusement. Who else could possibly live this far off the grid and not have been turned into a thousand-dollar-per-night treetop eco-treat?

After a while, the path she was on merged into a wider path, which led into a denser grove of redwood trees. The light filtering through the towering giants looked green, and here and there a bolt of gold brilliance broke through the maze of branches and walkways high above her head. Eventually Danielle emerged into a new clearing and stumbled to a stop.

The in the center of the clearing stood two enormous redwoods, each spanning thirty feet across. The trees had grown so closely together that their branches intertwined, and in the gaps between the trunks and branches wild tangles of flowering vines, mosses and orchids grew in exuberant bursts of color.

The roots of the trees were immense — taller than she was. Daniella could see gaps in trees all around the clearing where other paths led to this point. Curiosity beckoned her toward the majestic trees at the convergence of all the forest paths. She crept forward on silent feet, awed by the peace and beauty of the clearing.

As she approached she saw that at the center of the two trees in the crook of their immense roots, there appeared to be a darkened opening. Daniella crept up to the space and peered inside.

The opening itself was much taller than she was and took after the natural shape of the roots, but its edges were smoothed and carved with intricate designs of flowering vines. Her eyes traced the carved vines which surged up toward a blanket of stars and planets across the top of what she now realized must be a man-made doorway.

Her heart beating with wild relief, Daniella stepped through the doorway. Inside she was enveloped in silky, complete darkness. For a few tentative steps she pressed forward blindly, one hand tracing the smooth wood of the passageway.

The sounds of revelry reached her ears first. The passageway was growing steadily brighter and Daniella could hear a steady hum of voices and laughter layered over dizzying, whirling music. Flushed with relief, Daniella surged forward, emerging into a dazzling and shockingly large great hall.

She blinked furiously to clear the spots from her vision and stopped just over the threshold of the large room. Slowly she took in the bewildering scene before her.

The entire room was inside the carved out trunks of unimaginably huge redwood trees. Zigzagging stairways, ladders and rope walkways led up the tree walls to platforms as far up as the eye could see. The people at the highest level she could see were so small they looked like little dolls. Daniella felt light headed and leaned back against the doorway.

The first floor of the great hall was alive with color and dancing and music. The people were like none she had ever seen before. There was nothing in common among them — they were as diverse in color and build as could be — yet there was something singularly beautiful about them that marked them as almost otherworldly.

Her eyes settled on a group of twirling dancers in front of a three-person band. The couples swirled in bright flashes of color in intricate dance steps, leaping and clapping to the tune of the fiddle and pipe music.

Heat rushed to Daniella's face as she realized that their clothing left almost nothing to the imagination. As the dancers moved she caught tantalizing glimpses of flesh through flowing gossamer gowns and barely there crop tops. The male dancers wore almost nothing at all, their broad, smooth chests drawing her gaze like a magnet.

As the music wound down, several of the couples entwined in intimate embraces. Daniella stood transfixed, unable to tear her eyes away despite her mortification and uncertainty.

A woman with smooth dark skin was twining her hands through her partner's hair while he slid his hands down the front of her gown to reveal beautiful tear-drop breasts tipped with rosy nipples. The couple kissed passionately, and the woman tugged firmly on the man's hair to drag him down to her exposed breasts. He laved them slowly with his tongue, staring up into the woman's half-lidded eyes, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

Daniella tore her eyes away from the couple only to land on three men deep in the throws of passion. In the center of the trio a small, muscular man leaned against a giant of a man. His pale, freckled chest and cheeks were flushed scarlet and his eyes were squeezed shut, his face partially buried in the neck of the man behind him.

The huge man behind him was supporting him with one muscular arm dusted with dark hair and he appeared to be nibbling on the smaller man's ear, evoking shudders from his smaller parter. Daniella's eyes bulged as they traveled down their undulating bodies and saw the giant's huge member surging into the smaller man's pliant body, driving little cries from him.

The third man knelt at their feet, swallowing the small man's cock hungrily while running his hands teasingly over and between his legs. Every so often the kneeling man slipped a hand up to tweak a nipple or slide between the giant's legs to caress him in his most intimate place.

Burning heat rushed to Daniella's core and flushed her cheeks bright red. She was starting to get uncomfortably aroused by the scene in front of her. She forced herself to look away.

None of the other revelers seemed to take note of the quickly growing orgy on the dance floor. A knot of people closer to her were chatting and eating, occasionally glancing toward the writhing former dancers.

As Daniella struggled to comprehend the strange scene in from of her, shards of understanding make their way toward each other like pieces of a broken mirror being glued back together.

The ethereal beauty. The easy grace. The strange and captivating music. The unbridled passion. And there — her heart faltered — as one of the women tossed her head back in laughter her hair swept back to reveal pointed ears.

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

Daniella realized in a rush she was somewhere she should never have been. These were faeries. She had stumbled into faery territory. She felt like the stupidest person on the planet.

It didn't matter that there weren't supposedly any faerie territories in North America. She should have realized with all the strange things that had happened.

Unable to tear her eyes away from the spectacle and afraid to turn her back on the faeries, Daniella felt blindly for the doorway to flee back into the darkness.

As if by some cue that Daniella couldn't hear, the entire crowd of revelers fell silent and snapped their attention upward. A platform from several stories up was plummeting toward the center of the room. In seconds it landed with gentle grace, revealing a striking faery man dressed in a tunic as black as the night sky and matching tight cropped pants. The entire room's attention was trained on his movements alone.

Behind him sat a throne of woven, living vines bursting with gem-hued flowers and covered in wicked looking thorns. Two female faeries lounged on either side of the throne, their bodies clearly visible through their sheer gowns.

A second faery man was kneeling at the feet of the black suited man, nude except for a gold choker of vines around his neck. His chest glistened with perspiration and — oh lord, was that what she thought it was?

He stared up at the man in black with flushed cheeks and intense adoration. The intensity of that look frightened Daniella with its intimacy and raw desire. The man in black stroked the kneeling man's cheek with the back of his knuckles and murmured, "Very good, Feldspar. That will be all," as he fastened his pants.

With a wicked smile the man in black turned toward Daniella and stalked forward, pinning her to the spot. His green eyes bored into her, leaving her feeling like every book on her shelf had been picked up, paged through, and put back on the shelf backwards and upside down.

"Ah, you must be the life we were owed," he purred in a voice that resonated through the towering, hollow tree.

Daniella shook her head, terrified. The sensation of tipping into his translucent, jade green eyes was so visceral she felt slightly dizzy.

"Uh-uh," he nearly chided. "Yes, my dear. You are the life owed whether you knew it or not. It's all over you."

He glided forward and Daniella instinctively stepped back only to find herself plastered against solid tree trunk with nowhere to flee. The man's smile widened as he ran his eyes blatantly down her body, lingering on her neck, her breasts, her legs and then slowly back up again to draw in her wide eyes.

"I don't — I don't know what you're talking about," Daniella said in a voice so brittle she barely recognized herself. "I've never done anything to anyone. I don't — I can't be whoever you're looking for. Please. Please just let me go."

The man looked at her coldly. "A life was owed and yours was given. It was not you who owed the debt, but your life belongs to the wood all the same."