Tamed by a Clueless Maiden

Serena Winslow

The gem necklace felt warm against my skin as I adjusted it one last time in front of the mirror. Twenty-two years old, and I still wore this thing every single day—not because I believed in Mom's stories about goddesses and blessings, but because it was the only piece of my grandmother I had left.

"Serena!" Dad's voice echoed up the stairwell, sharp with impatience.

I grabbed my clutch and headed for the door, already dreading the evening ahead. Cocktail dresses and small talk. My idea of hell. But Mom had given me that hopeful look this morning—the one that said maybe you'll meet someone nice, make some friends—and I didn't have the heart to disappoint her again.

So here I was, dressed up and ready to smile my way through another evening of people who thought my life choices were somewhere between amusing and tragic.

Mom—Elaine—intercepted me at the top of the stairs, her eyes doing that automatic sweep mothers do—hair, dress, shoes. Her gaze lingered on my neckline, and a small smile touched her lips.

"That dress looks lovely on you," she said, reaching out to adjust the necklace so it sat centered. "The necklace complements it perfectly."

"Thanks, Mom." I tried not to fidget as her fingers lingered on the silver chain.

"Go on, Victoria's been waiting downstairs," Mom said with a knowing smile. "You know how impatient your cousin gets."

"Serena!" Dad—Joseph—called again. "Victoria's been down here for twenty minutes!"

"Coming!" I hurried past Mom, her gentle "Be safe" following me down the stairs.

Fun. Right. Because nothing said "fun" like spending an evening with people who thought my life's work was a joke.

The ballroom of the Mountainside Estate was exactly what I'd expected—crystal chandeliers, champagne fountains, and enough designer labels to fund my sanctuary for a year. Maybe two.

"Serena, come on, I want you to meet some people." Victoria's hand was already on my elbow, steering me toward a cluster of women our age, all perfectly coiffed and glittering with jewelry.

"This is Amanda, and this is Rebecca, and—"

"Hi," I said, forcing a smile.

"Hello." Amanda's return smile was polite but didn't reach her eyes. She turned back to Victoria almost immediately. "So anyway, as I was saying about the charity gala—"

I let their conversation wash over me, nodding at appropriate intervals. My feet were already starting to hurt in these heels. How did people do this voluntarily?

"—heard she spends all day with those animals—"

My attention sharpened. A small group had formed near the windows, far enough away that they probably thought I couldn't hear them. Probably being the operative word.

"Can you imagine?" One of them—I thought her name was Sophia—wrinkled her nose delicately. "All day around wild dogs and god knows what else. Doesn't she worry about diseases?"

"Well, you know what they say about the Winslow girl," another one chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Such a waste of a good family name, running around in the dirt like that."

"I heard she turned down a position at her father's company for it. Can you believe—"

"Serena?" Victoria touched my arm. "I'm going to grab another drink. Want anything?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay, stay here! I'll be right back." She disappeared into the crowd, immediately intercepted by a group of friends who pulled her toward the dance floor.

I gave it exactly 2 minutes before I slipped away.

The garden was a relief—cool air, the scent of pine and night-blooming flowers, and blessed, blessed silence. I kicked off my heels and sank onto a stone bench, tilting my face up to the moon. Full and bright, it cast everything in silver.

This was better. This I could handle.

A flash of movement caught my eye—something pale darting through the hedges at the garden's edge. I sat up straighter, squinting into the darkness.

There. A fox, silver-white in the moonlight, limping badly. Even from here I could see the dark stain on its hind leg.

Blood.

I was on my feet before I could think, clutch abandoned on the bench as I hurried after it. The fox disappeared into the tree line, and I followed, my dress catching on branches as I pushed deeper into the woods.

"Hey," I called softly, trying to keep my voice calm and non-threatening. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Just let me see—"

The fox paused, looking back at me with those uncanny golden eyes. Then it bolted again, and I cursed under my breath, hiking up my dress and running after it.

The ground sloped upward, the manicured garden giving way to wild forest. My bare feet found purchase on leaves and moss, the sounds of the party fading behind me until all I could hear was my own breathing and the distant rustle of the fox ahead.

I finally caught up to it in a small clearing, moonlight streaming through the canopy. The fox had stopped, panting, and I approached slowly, hands out.

"Okay, let me just—"

I got close enough to see the "blood" clearly, and my stomach unknotted. Not blood. Just... red berry juice? The fox's leg was stained dark red, but there was no wound, no injury. Just sticky fruit residue.

"Well—" I started to laugh, relief making me giddy. "You're fine. You're completely fine, you little con artist."

The fox's ears suddenly flattened against its skull. It let out a sharp bark—almost like a warning—and then it was gone, crashing through the underbrush so fast I barely saw which direction it went.

"What—"

Then I heard it. A low sound, barely audible, that made every hair on my body stand up. Not quite a growl, not quite... I didn't know what. But it was coming from deeper in the forest, and the fox had run from it like its life depended on it.

I should have turned back. I should have gone straight back to the party, found Victoria, gone home.

Instead, I looked in the opposite direction the fox had gone and saw it.

A building. A massive Gothic structure, all dark stone and pointed towers, rising out of the forest like something from a fairy tale. Or a nightmare. The moonlight caught on stained glass windows, making them glow with an eerie inner light.

What is a place like that doing out here?

The ballroom had to be at least a mile back. This was deep forest, protected land. There shouldn't be anything out here but trees and wildlife.

But there it was. And as I moved closer, pushing through the last line of trees, I saw something that made me forget all about the fox, all about the mysterious building.

In the courtyard, clearly visible through the wrought-iron gates, stood a tree.

Not just any tree. Even from here, even in the darkness, I recognized it from the botanical texts I'd studied. The distinctive silvery bark, the way the branches seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, the faint luminescence of the leaves.

Lunar Laurel.

My heart kicked into overdrive. Lunar Laurel was extinct. Or supposed to be. The seeds could be made into a treatment that worked on everything from mange to parasitic infections, could speed healing in ways that modern medicine couldn't explain. I'd spent years looking for even a rumor of a surviving tree.

And here one was, just... growing in someone's private garden like it was a normal oak.

I knocked on the heavy door, the sound echoing in the stillness. "Hello? Is anyone here?" My voice felt small in the vast courtyard beyond.

Silence.

I tried again, louder this time. "I'm sorry to intrude, but—is anyone home?"

Still nothing.

I hesitated, my hand on the door handle. Every instinct told me to turn back, to respect the boundary I was about to cross. But all I could think about was that tree, and what it could mean for the animals at Moonshade Haven. How many lives I could save if I could just get a few seeds, maybe negotiate a partnership with whoever owned this place.

The door wasn't locked. It swung open with barely a whisper.

The cool stone beneath my bare feet sent a shiver up my spine as I crossed the courtyard, my eyes never leaving the tree. Up close, it was even more magnificent—easily thirty feet tall, its trunk thick and gnarled with age. The bark seemed to pulse with a faint light, and when I reached out to touch it, the moonstone at my throat suddenly flared warm.

I pulled my hand back, frowning. That was weird. The necklace had never done that before.

A shadow moved at the edge of my vision.

I spun around, and my breath caught in my throat.

A wolf. No—that wasn't right. Wolves didn't get that big. This thing was the size of a small horse, its shoulder easily reaching my chest. Silver-gray fur caught the moonlight, and its eyes—

Oh god, its eyes.

They glowed. Actually glowed, ice-blue and inhuman, fixed on me with an intensity that made my knees go weak.