Now, when she stepped into the garden, nearby plants perked without any effort on her part. Grass underfoot greened and grew lush. Her abilities with flora increased daily. To lose this aptitude would be akin to cutting off an appendage. But she had to destroy it before her husband noticed. Before outsiders did. If the herbs she required for a curative were on Satyr land, they would be found in a shady area, not sunlight. She turned toward the forest. Would it part for her this time? The grass was damp, sodden in places from the violent shower last night, and she occasionally had to circumnavigate a muddy patch. Partway up the hillside, she found a clearing and turned to see how far she’d come. Outside the castle walls, wind swept dazzling sun across a grassy meadow, bleaching it with shimmering waves of heat. Inexplicably, within the perimeter of the Satyr compound, the temperature remained constant and comfortable. She stepped under the forest’s skirt and felt its cautious welcome.
What do You think about Nicholas: The Lords Of Satyr?
