Wild Desire Ch. 09

Sorry for the long delay lovelies! This chapter doesn't contain sexy times, just plot. I'll be back soon with the final 1-2 chapters.

XOXO, Im

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Daniella slipped into her apartment just after dawn, shutting the door and sliding the deadbolts home with a quiet snick. She leaned against the door and slid down to the floor with a deep sigh.

The apartment was nothing special. Durable, beige wall-to-wall carpet, stark white walls, efficiency blinds, cabinets from the 1990s. Daniella and her roommate had personalized it in the all the ways they could without making permanent changes. Their bikes were mounted in the living room, and every other surface was covered in houseplants. After six months it was starting to feel more homey.

"Shitty night, huh?" Shannon's voice floated down the hall from the kitchen. Mercifully, the sound of the coffee grinder followed soon after.

"I don't know," Daniella groaned. "Kinda?"

Shannon's recently buzzed head peeked out from around the fridge. She took in Daniella's slinky dress, tired make-up, and the heels she clutched in her hand. "It can't have been that bad if you stayed over."

"Yeah," Daniella muttered unconvincingly.

"Get up and come get your coffee," Shannon called down the hallway, adding in a quieter grumble. "So dramatic."

"I heard that," Daniella yelled.

She dragged herself off the floor and shuffled down the hall to their small kitchen table. She stared into space as they waited silently for the coffee to brew. She drank her cup in silence as Shannon made savory oatmeal with fried eggs and sautéed vegetables.

By the time breakfast was ready, Daniella was looking more-or-less capable of speech again.

"So what happened?" Shannon asked.

Daniella groaned.

"Aw, but that one seemed nice," Shannon said in a tone that made it clear how little investment she had. Daniella gave her a wry look. They both knew that Shannon knew his name was Dave. They both also knew that Shannon had given up learning names when all men only made it a few dates before Daniella moved on.

"Dave is nice," Daniella grumbled as if the fact was offensive to her. "He's nice and smart and cute. He's a good guy."

"Uh huh."

"So I stayed over last night."

Shannon arched a brow and waited.

"It was fine. He's great."

"Great. Right. It was so great you came back here at the buttcrack of dawn, grumpy and groaning like you spent all night doing taxes."

Daniella cracked a smile at that. "The sex was fine but it just doesn't have that oomph, you know? I don't know. It was fine. I know I shouldn't be comparing..."

Shannon cut her eyes to the side in a gesture that was suspiciously close to an eye roll. She held her tongue and waited for Daniella to continue.

"I had a dream last night about —" she paused, staring at the ceiling. "I had a dream about my ex."

"Dani.... Again?"

"I know, I know. It's not like I do it on purpose. It just happens. I know I'm over him, but I can't shake this feeling sometimes. I know we're broken up. It's been six months, but sometimes it's like my body hasn't caught up to that fact. Like sometimes I'll just come through the door and I'm surprised he's not sitting on our couch. So I had this dream last night about him and every part of me believed it. It felt so real that when I woke up this morning I was legit shocked Dave was there. I honestly didn't recognize him for a second because my dumb brain expected my ex instead." She scrubbed her face and groaned again.

"Oh honey," Shannon said in her most "Southern mom" voice. "For someone who says she's over her ex, you sure don't seem interested in moving on."

"Working on it," Daniella huffed.

"Uh huh. Sure. I get that there was a weird moment this morning, but a dream is just a dream. Have you ever considered that no real guy can measure up to your Dream Ex? Dani, I know I wasn't there, but I have to believe you guys broke up for a reason. Is who he is in your dreams really who he is in real life?"

Daniella blushed and avoided Shannon's gaze. If she was being totally, one hundred percent honest, the answer was yes. In dreams he was exactly the man she remembered. Her Lord, her Malachite. He almost never talked in her dreams. It was one of the things that made her dreams feel so real. If he had been nothing more than her own subconscious there were about a million things she would have wanted to hear him say.

The night before he had led her through the snow-covered Wood to all the places that had been theirs. The stream had frozen over. The hidden grotto and waterfall had turned into a sparkling, solid plume. The butterfly ravine was colder than it should have been but still free of snow. When she shivered in the bitter cold he had stopped short. He slid his jacket off and offered it to her, moving slowly as if he were afraid she'd spook. Even without words, every gesture and expression was tender and hesitant. She knew without speaking that he missed her. He was sorry for the mistakes he'd made. She turned and let him wrap the jacket around her and then leaned against his side.

It felt like home. None of the guys she'd dated in the last six months made her feel like that.

"I just don't think I can see Dave again." Daniella said as she forced herself to stop lingering over her dream.

"Well, if he's not right for you..." Shannon said briskly, eager to end the conversation. There were a lot of things she could have said to her roommate, but by this point they both were tired of rehashing conversations they'd had a few times before.

"Yeah. I think this was the nail in the coffin." Daniella gathered her dishes and rinsed them at the sink, just as disinterested in delving into her issues with men as Shannon was. Besides, there were more important — and much more gratifying — things to get to. Their training ride was in twenty minutes and it would take at least fifteen minutes for Daniella to get her butt in gear.

***

Sunflowers blurred past in the early morning sunlight as Daniella flew down the county road on her road bike. At eight in the morning it was already hot enough that she was sweating just ten miles into her ride. If she had a dollar for every time someone told her "it's hot here, but it's a dry heat," she'd have paid off the ridiculously expensive bike she'd gotten when she joined Shannon's triathlon team. Dry heat or no, it would be hot as the surface of the sun by mid-morning.

Daniella leaned back and coasted for a stretch, letting her teammates pass her while she sipped water. Her body was humming pleasantly with endorphins. Her mind was quiet, focused.

Joining Shannon's community triathlon team had been one of her therapist's suggestions a few months before, and Daniella had to admit it had been a good one. Pushing her body to its limit always turned down the static in her mind. It was how she did most of her best thinking these days.

It had been nice to make new friends, too. Friends who hadn't panicked over her disappearance, mourned her apparent death, and been shocked by her sudden emergence from the woods six months later. Her triathlon friends were content to talk about diets and bike builds and upcoming races. They didn't know about her ordeal. She didn't need to reassure them that she was okay. She didn't have to atone for the damage her disappearance had caused. They were never thrown off by the difference between the Daniella they'd known before and the Daniella who had returned from the Wood. Around them she could just be herself without the weight of her past stifling every interaction.

When she had made her way back from the Wood, she hadn't been prepared for what reentering her life would be like. She hadn't really anticipated the rabid law enforcement and media attention she garnered. It wasn't every day that a pretty young woman went missing in the woods. It was even more rare for that pretty young woman to come traipsing down the mountain six months later in the dead of winter looking healthier than ever without explanation.

The transition back to living in town was slow. She was shocked by how foreign cars felt. They were so loud and the stench of them was everywhere. She was horrified by the amount of garbage she generated no matter how careful she tried to be. Foods she had remembered loving were now too sweet, too fatty, too salty, too fake.

By far the worst part about coming back was the people.

It hadn't taken long before people moved from being grateful she was alive, to angry that she wouldn't share more about where she'd been. The police had interviewed her multiple times in an attempt to get her to admit she'd been kidnapped. When she refused to give them any useful information about her time in the woods, they had made vague and unconvincing threats about obstruction of justice for a few weeks. It was amazing how quickly people went from seeing you as a miracle to a hoax, when you hadn't done anything to encourage either belief. Eventually the authorities had given up making a crime out of her disappearance.

The media had also gotten wind of her story not long after she'd returned. She still wondered sometimes who tipped them off. She couldn't blame them exactly. It was a feel-good story that had quickly turned vaguely salacious and sinister. Logically there was no reason she should have been alive and her refusal to give any interviews made her all the more fascinating. There were dedicated groups of amateur sleuths on Reddit trying to figure out what had really happened to her.

She'd had to completely raze all her online accounts, get a P.O. Box, and buy a new unlisted phone number. She'd been on the verge of changing her name, but things calmed down after a few months and it just didn't seem worth the hassle. On the up side, enough people had been moved by her disappearance and reappearance that a substantial crowd fund campaign had been dedicated to her recovery.

Relations with her family and close friends were still fraught. She had refused to talk about what had happened to her. Her mother was convinced that her ordeal had been so traumatizing that she'd suffered selective amnesia as a coping mechanism. She suspected everyone who had known her had their own theories ranging from her participating in a secret six-month silent yoga retreat to her barely escaping from six months in a murder dungeon. She could understand why they needed an explanation. Without it, her disappearing and not telling anyone she was alive was beyond cruel.

Sometimes Daniella considered telling her parents and closest friends about the Wood. She knew her silence hurt and that what they imagined had happened to her was likely much worse than her real experience in the Wood. If she continued to shut them out, she knew she'd lose them.

Still, she could never bring herself to tell anyone about the faeries. Malachite had kept the Wood secret for hundreds of years. She couldn't bring herself to betray his confidence by telling people American faeries were still alive and thriving. It was an impossible situation, one that had led her to turn to new acquaintances like Shannon and her triathlon team, who either didn't know or didn't care about her disappearance.

She stowed her water bottle and leaned back down on her handlebars, pushing herself into a sprint to catch up with her teammates. Riding a steady wave of endorphins, she let her thoughts take their natural course toward Malachite.

Thinking about him wasn't pure pain anymore. It had eased into a confusing, tangled knot of good and bad. She hadn't forgiven him for lying to her and she still didn't understand why he thought it was okay to keep her in the Wood. Every feeling of betrayal and anger was matched by a memory of the way he was when they were alone together. His smirk. The way he cultivated beauty in his home and in the Wood. The way his eyes gleamed with hunger first thing in the morning as he slid down her body under the sheets. The way his hands felt on her skin, hot and demanding. The way he kept her on the knife edge of pain and pleasure.

She missed him. She missed the secret, knowing looks her gave her. She missed his laugh and the way he teased her. She missed the quiet way he moved in the world, and the way the Wood moved with him. She missed the way he'd made her feel: powerful, and free, and loved.

***

When Daniella got home a thick manila envelope was waiting for her in her mailbox. She tucked it under an arm as she carried her bike up the stairs to her apartment, practically running up the stairs. Once inside she transferred the envelope to her mouth while she hung her bike up on the wall, unwilling to put the package down for even a second.

She took a deep breath and settled herself on her couch. Her hands trembled as she ripped the envelope open and spread the contents on the coffee table. A thrill of vindictive joy ran through her when she saw what was inside. It was even better than she had hoped.

At first when she had come back from the Wood she had thought she wanted her old life back. She wanted to return to the person she had been before she had ever met her Lord. The entire way down the mountain she had somehow expected that she could pick up where she'd left off. She knew that it would be a shock to her friends and family, that she might need to file some paperwork with the university to get herself reinstated as a student, that she might want to make minor changes to her dissertation.

What she'd discovered almost immediately was that there's nothing simple about coming back from the dead. The world had kept turning while she was in the Wood, and more often than not it had moved on without her.

Her fellowship in the ecology program had been gone by the time she'd returned. The department chair was all apologies, and the faculty made an effort to cobble together some funding from different grants so she could continue.

It didn't take long for her to realize that not only had the world changed, but she had also changed. It was hard to care about the science of ecology when she knew faeries who instinctively balanced the natural world's ecosystems perfectly. She herself had started to develop that instinct in the Wood, and going back to pure measurements and data felt absurd.

She had stepped off the path that had been so clear a year ago, and now she realized she was standing on an entirely different path whose destination was getting clearer by the day. But before she could let herself move into that future, she had a few things she needed to set right, starting with the contents of the envelope now spread before her. She made digital back-ups of everything, and then back-ups of her back-ups. When she felt assured she had enough copies squirreled away she gathered everything up and locked the entire package in her safe. It was time to call her lawyer.

***

The morning of her mediation meeting with the university, Daniella couldn't eat. She changed her outfit three times, eventually settling on the clothes she had carefully picked out days before. She paced her apartment until it was time to head to campus and still arrived fifteen minutes early.

Her lawyer arrived shortly after. She had hired Hanna with the unexpected windfall from her crowd funded account. Her firm was over in the city and had won several successful settlements from the university. More importantly, Hanna had a strong record of grinding powerful men under her boot for the things they'd done to women.

They made their way up to the conference room in the university president's offices. Daniella recognized the university's head legal counsel sitting at the massive conference table, flanked by the president, vice president, and ecology department chair. Additional staff were positioned in chairs against the wall behind them, even though there was still room at the table.

Daniella and Hanna took their seats facing the legal counsel. Introductions were made and pleasantries offered, which Hanna returned with stone-faced, monosyllabic responses.

The university legal counsel got the meeting started. "We are all so honored to meet you Daniella. On behalf of the entire campus community, I want to express how grateful we are for your safe return."

Daniella stared hard at him. He had the good sense to hesitate when she didn't even offer a polite smile at his opening bid. After a few seconds he stumbled onward.

"We understand you've had some difficulties integrating back into your studies and we want to assure you that there are a variety of resources the university provides to help you get on track." As he droned on about counseling services, advising appointments and excused leave options it dawned on Daniella just how little the university understood about this meeting. She drew herself up straighter in her chair and her stomach unknotted. They were going to wipe the floor with these suits.

Hanna let the man's speech run its course. When he was finally done, she watched him in silence until he exchanged a confused look with the university vice president sitting beside him. Hanna bent and pulled out a thick folio. She placed it precisely on the table. Next to it she placed her cell phone.

"My client is prepared to file suit against the university for its flagrant disregard for faculty misconduct leading to her six-month disappearance."

"Faculty misconduct?" the university president said, mystified.

Hanna pressed onward without acknowledging him. "You will find here affidavits from six female students who previously raised complaints about Professor Craven's conduct. Daniella herself complained to other faculty members about his views on women, though she never filed a formal complaint."

She unlocked her tablet, revealing a video still of a faculty office taken from a high angle. Without a word of explanation, she hit play. The video showed Professor Craven seated at his desk with Daniella standing in the foreground. Daniella had hidden the camera while he'd been giving a lecture, not really knowing what she'd do with the footage. She was glad she had, but she hated reliving that conversation.

She hadn't wasted time accusing him of sending her to what he believed was her death in order to save himself. He'd sputtered a few excuses before finally throwing his hands up in exasperation. He was a celebrated professor with many unfinished projects awaiting publication. He had grandchildren on the family, a family who depended on him. His work was too important to simply abandon, while she... He said she was expendable in every way possible without outright saying it. And then he had the audacity to threaten her with pulling her funding and burying her dissertation if she brought a complaint against him to the university.

Daniella didn't watch the video. Instead she watched the dawning horror on the university administrators' faces. They watched the video until the end. Daniella could practically see them doing silent, horrific calculations. Was the video enough for a criminal conviction? Probably not. Was it enough for months of negative media attention? Could it kick off a wave of Me Too accusations and lawsuits? Costs and risks were being tallied up. Daniella hoped truth and justice would enter into their calculus somehow, though she wasn't holding her breath.

In the taut silence that followed Hanna slid the tablet to one side, and moved her stack of affidavits into its place. She opened the first one and began to summarize the contents, her audience growing more pale by the minute.

By the end of the meeting Daniella had what she'd wanted. Professor Craven would be fired, stripped of his title and pension, and publicly condemned. As for herself, she'd declined discussing a monetary settlement. She didn't want the university's hush money nor the strings that would come with it. Instead, she asked for the one thing she really needed — a favor from the entomology department.