Page 99 of Hunting for her Heart
Most of the time, it gives me glimpses of what I want to see, like the other woman I’ve sent through, but for some reason, it refuses to show me Willow. I’ve been worried about her for weeks. Ever since her doppelgänger from that world told me about the Mating Hunt, I’ve been worried sick.
I can’t imagine how the poor girl is feeling after trying to run away from her abusive father and being thrown into a new world, where she is literally being chased by men who want to claim her. It’s barbaric and it makes me sick. I’ve never wished to be able to go through to Dyconia myself more than I have now.
Well, maybe watching Odessa suffer at the hands of the abusive king was worse. I threw up with worry several timesduring that terrible incident. Luckily, she was happy now, and I didn’t have to worry about her anymore.
Through my magical window, I watch as Ria stands in the crow’s nest, the arms of one of her men wrapped around her from behind as they stare out at the sea. Is it wrong to wish for just a piece of that happiness and love for myself?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than happy to help these women. I’m just not surewhyit’s my job to do it, other than Ican. Well, that and the fact that if I don’t, the pain becomes unbearable. I’m terrified that one day, I won’t be able to find someone’s doppelgänger, and the pain will kill me.
Closing my eyes, I try to picture Willow, and when I open them, once again, I’m disappointed as all I see is a dark, empty forest. I’m about to lift my hand when movement catches my eye.
Leaning in, I try to make out what I’m seeing. It’s a cloaked man on a horse. I can’t see his face, but something about him draws me in and I’m unable to look away.
He seems to be on his own as he rides silently through the night. I watch, transfixed, as he stops beside a small stream and jumps off his horse. He squats down and cups his hands in the water, bringing it up to sip beneath his hood. His horse joins in, drinking at the stream.
My fingers dig into the wall, aching to get a glimpse of his face. Who is this man? Why is the window showing him to me?
The only person I’ve ever been able to see before, who wasn’t someone I sent through, was a man who knew Odessa and her men. But that only started after he walked in when I was watching her. The window had shown him to me several times since then, but I still know nothing else abouthim. I only get glimpses of him doing boring things like standing around or resting.
I suppose it’s possible this could be him. But his energy feels different somehow. Maybe I have seen him, though; it’s impossible to know without seeing his face.
Suddenly, he jumps up, and his hood falls back as he looks away from me, as if he’s been startled. Even the horse looks in that direction. Slowly, he starts to walk, and my view seems to follow him, just like it did when he was riding.
I still can’t see his face, but I can see he has short, wavy brown hair. He steps into a clearing, and I see what’s caught his attention. There is a fawn who’s stuck, its leg wedged between two logs. I watch with bated breath to see what he’ll do. People in Dyconia are hunters, so it wouldn’t be strange for him to decide to make this deer his supper.
But he surprises me by holding up his hands and slowly moving forward, then grabbing the log and yanking it back, giving the fawn the space to pull its leg free and run off in the other direction.
The man stands up and wipes his hands together as he turns around. Finally, I’m given a glimpse of his face. His perfectly chiseled face.Heavens,why are all the men in Dyconia so attractive? His dark brown beard frames his entire face, giving him a rough yet charming appearance.
When he gets back to his horse, the window starts to fade, and I lower my hand with a sigh.Just when it was getting good.
Knowing it’s time to open my bookstore, I step out of my office and head to the front, unlocking the door and flipping the sign to open before moving behind the front counter.
“Now, where was I?” I ask myself as I pull out my laptop and settle in to continue writing my stories of Dyconia.I may not know why I have this ability to switch women who have been born in the wrong worlds, but at least I can write fantasy stories about it to make some money.
The women who came through needed money to help get themselves settled, and my side gig as an author helped to pay for that. It was the least I could do, really.
The doorbell chimes and I look up, seeing the new Willow walk through. She looks like she belongs in this world now, in her jeans and T-shirt.
“Back already?” I ask with a smile.
“Yes,” she says with a shrug as she leans on the counter. “I got a bit further this time, all the way down to Mulcaster Street.”
“Hey, that’s like twice as far as last time!” I say with pride. She found our world a little daunting, and with unknown enemies out there, it made it that much scarier for her to venture out.
“Do you—” She stops talking when the doorbell chimes again, and we both turn our heads to see a beautiful woman with long blonde hair enter. She looks a little familiar, but I can’t place her.
“Hi,” I say, turning toward her. “Welcome to?—”
“Willow!” she cries out as she quickly runs up and grabs her upper arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Uhh…” Willow’s wide eyes turn to me, clearly unsure what to say. This must be someone from the other Willow’s life. “Hi, how are you?” she finally asks, looking back at the woman.
“It’s me, Izzy.” When Willow doesn’t say anything, Izzy frowns and releases her as she takes a step backward.
“You’re not Willow.” Her frown turns to a scowl as shelooks between us. “What is going on here? Where’s my sister?”
“Uh oh…” Willow whispers, but Izzy still hears her.
