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28. Leap of faith

Author: Lena Windsor
last update Last Updated: 2023-09-08 06:25:50
HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW

We then reach a park, and my feet don’t need a guide to take me towards an ancient tree that stands out from the rest. It calls to me. The Eternal Tree. It's huge, with branches stretching out like wise old arms, and its leaves are perpetually green. As we approach it, a warm, calming energy envelopes us, and I take a glance at Willow. She looks so… Peaceful.

“Do you feel that?” she asks, her voice soft, almost reverent. “It’s like… Like the tree is alive. More than just a plant. It’s… sentient.”

“It’s a portal, Willow,” I smile. “A crossing between worlds. It leads to the fae realm.”

I turn my eyes to my mate, taking in her true self. She’s like an open book, with welcoming arms. She’s never been anything but honest and open with me, inviting me in, no pretenses, just pure, inviting honesty. The need to share, to unload, takes over me and, for once, I just give in.

“You know,” I start, the words tumbling out in a rush. “All my life, I’ve tried to under
Lena Windsor

Ooof, how hot was that?? Thank you for reading. DISCLAIMER: ALTHOUGH WATERLOO IS A REAL CITY IN ONTARIO, THIS IS A FICTIONAL VERSION OF IT, SO NONE OF THOSE PLACES IN THE TOUR ARE BASED ON REALITY.

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  • The Way You Taste   29. The morning after

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  • The Way You Taste   28. Leap of faith

    HOLDEN’S POINT OF VIEW We then reach a park, and my feet don’t need a guide to take me towards an ancient tree that stands out from the rest. It calls to me. The Eternal Tree. It's huge, with branches stretching out like wise old arms, and its leaves are perpetually green. As we approach it, a warm, calming energy envelopes us, and I take a glance at Willow. She looks so… Peaceful. “Do you feel that?” she asks, her voice soft, almost reverent. “It’s like… Like the tree is alive. More than just a plant. It’s… sentient.” “It’s a portal, Willow,” I smile. “A crossing between worlds. It leads to the fae realm.” I turn my eyes to my mate, taking in her true self. She’s like an open book, with welcoming arms. She’s never been anything but honest and open with me, inviting me in, no pretenses, just pure, inviting honesty. The need to share, to unload, takes over me and, for once, I just give in. “You know,” I start, the words tumbling out in a rush. “All my life, I’ve tried to under

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