Winter's Bride - Candace Wondrak Page 0,7

An animal on its own level, certainly, almost magical in its grace.

“No,” the messenger spoke, heaving me up. It was difficult to get onto the horse, especially in a dress, but after a bit of fumbling, I managed. “We leave now. Tis a long journey back.” The way he spoke, it was final.

I wouldn’t get to spend any more time with my family. I wouldn’t get to tell them goodbye, beyond the sad wave I gave them as the messenger crawled onto the horse behind me. I wouldn’t get to tell my little sister to chase her happiness, to follow her heart, to do whatever would make her smile. This, I realized, was the last time I would see any of them. The last time I’d gaze upon the townsfolk, the mayor, all of them. Once we left… I would never return. I would become winter’s bride, and that would be the end of my story.

As the messenger wrapped an arm around me, using his other to latch onto the horse’s magnificent white mane, as we galloped away from the only town I’d ever known, this thing—this ending I believed it to be—was really only the beginning of my story.

Life was about to prove to me that you never knew what life held in store for you.

Chapter Two – Summer

Human life was so fleeting. So short. It was a wonder they were able to freely smile and laugh, to have fulfilling lives when death crept closer with each passing minute. I had no idea what that was like, being the embodiment of summer, but I respected them for it. I respected the humans, and I did my best to grant them my favor.

Half the year, I had to hand them over to my brother, but that was not something I chose to do. That was simply how things were around here.

I didn’t often interfere in their lives, because it wasn’t my place to. As a god, I watched them all, and also as a god, I could tell which humans were capable of changing the very world they lived in. One strong-willed heart had caught my attention years ago, and I’d watched her ever since.

She’d been no more than six years old, giddy and giggling as children often were. She’d been fair-haired and light-skinned, like most of her village, too young to have anything to do around her family’s farm. The girl often took to sitting in the fields by herself, chasing the butterflies or trying to catch the newts by the river. She enjoyed being outside in the sun, drinking in the warm air as if she could never get enough.

One day, the girl had run into a pair of boys from her village. They were near her age, as far as I could tell, but their idea of fun was much different than hers. The boys had caught a stray cat, and they’d taken it to the river to hurt it.

Though I respected humans, I had always known there were those with black hearts and vile intentions. When you had free rein over your own choices, every now and again you were bound to make the wrong choice. Those boys were about to hurt something, but the girl stepped in.

Just a child, and she stepped in and acted like that poor cat’s protector, its guardian and its savior. I watched, perched on a nearby rock at the side of the river, invisible to all. I watched as she saved the animal and cussed out the boys using some very colorful language I was sure she’d heard from her parents, sounding so furious she made one of the boys cry.

But of course, simply saving the cat and chasing the boys off wasn’t what earned herself a place in my heart. No. Most humans would’ve stopped the boys, had they seen what they were doing. What most humans wouldn’t have done, on the other hand, was take the poor cat and spend days upon days nursing her back to health and making sure she was alright. Most would’ve just let the cat be.

I spent an awful lot of time watching over the girl after that. She grew older, and I kissed her skin with a tint of color, even during the winter months, made her yellow hair less yellow and more golden and shiny. Nearly everyone who met her knew she was favored by Summer, by me.

Morana. I learned her name when she was young. Fiery, feisty, full of defiance