Page 78 of How To Tame A Trickster Fae

WREN

Ihalf-expect Caelan to be waiting for me outside my shop and house, under the weathered beige and green awning, the streetlights painting him in shadow, but there’s no one there.

Fenn sits by the back door, his head tilted and whiskers twitching, as I glance around.

I’m disappointed.

We spent three days together, and that’s all it’s taken for him to be my new normal.

For not being lonely to be my new normal.

It strikes me then, how alone I have been since my parents passed, since I left our home in the city when this place was left to me.

Sure, I made friends with Piper, but it always felt like I was lingering on the edge of her friend group with Nerissa and Willow and the other witches, like I was looking in on their established bonds and trying to find my place.

I lock the door behind me, climbing the stairs to my snug home over the store and mull it over.

The stairs creak as I walk, the sound comforting.

As comforting as the knowledge that I’m not on the outside, not anymore, that the group of us witches, the witches of Wild Oak Woods, have set something in motion.

Our coven will be the first in this small town on the edge of the Ever Forest, and there’s something important about that, all on its own.

I’ll be the first of something.

A founding member.

A part of something more, with a group of witches I truly like.

By the time I lock my front door, Fenn zooming around the apartment and yipping, I’m in a fantastic mood.

Maybe I’ve found a permanent place here in Wild Oak Woods, after all.

Maybe this… beautiful thing I’ve started with Caelan will last, too.

I take my time soaking in the tub, using a special blend of salts and lavender I bought from Willow to ease my sore muscles.

When I climb into the bed alone, I miss Caelan, but I don’t feel alone.

Not anymore.

“What is it,” I slur, clawing at my sleep-filled eyes.

The hammering noise continues, relentless, and I look around blearily before sliding out of my bed. It’s still dark out, though the rosy fingers of dawn have started to stretch over the treetops in the distance.

Yawning, I stretch my arms high overhead before padding my way to the window. The patterned curtains are soft against my hands as I pull them back, peeking outside and expecting to see Caelan or smoke and a fire or something—but not Piper.

Piper, who’s sobbing, holding a massive wicker basket covered in hot pink checkered fabric. Piper, who’s knocking on my front door, making the bell overhead jingle with every strike.

I throw open the window, or try, before realizing I’ve never opened it and it’s painted shut.

Ew. I should ask my brownie to fix that.

Grimacing, I toss my threadbare robe over myself and sprint downstairs. I nearly die when Fenn bounds out in front of me like a homicidal cat, but I manage to keep my balance in spite of him.

Finally, I fling open the door, and Piper howls in anguish when she sees me, flinging her arms around me.

The smell of sweet bread and jam waft from her basket and I hug her back, my stomach flip-flopping with worry… and then growling loudly.

---