She remembered his touch, the warmth of his hand, the coolness of the wedding ring she had slipped over his finger.
She remembered those fingers trailing across the softness of her own skin, her heart, beating with desire in her human chest.
For a flicker of a moment, she remembered their love, before the trees fully claimed her as their own — their dryad queen.
I belatedly realized that I’ve used this image for another story. However, it’s perfect for both, so I’m keeping it!
If you enjoy my stories, please consider buying me a coffee.
Leave a comment! I promise I’ll answer (even if you don’t want me to).
I went somewhere completely different. I don't think she ever forgot and, because she knew that love, she was wise, she was kind. She accepted her new life and embraced it but always understood what the loss of love felt like and so was a queen unlike any other that had been before. Pretty romantic, hm???😏
I wonder who she became. A story there 🤞😊