Page 39 of Dawn Unearthed

“You’re not settled into your home yet. You likely don’t have your things unpacked, and some of your stuff is still with your aunt. I assumed you didn’t want anybody in there until it was fully yours. Plus, I’m a bear. I want you in my place. Sue me.” I winked as I said it, a small smile playing on my lips.

When her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled, I knew I had said the right thing. “It’s so weird that I did everything online and over the phone without seeing it first. It didn’t even occur to me that that wasn’t normal until I was here.”

“That’s Ravenwood for you. The magic rubs off on people, even when we don’t realize it.”

“That doesn’t seem nefarious at all.” I ignored the sarcasm in her tone.

“It isn’t,” I said as I helped her out of the car.

I walked her into the kitchen and pulled out my large first-aid kit.

“That’s a huge first-aid kit for the kitchen.”

I shrugged at her words. “I have a larger one in my bedroom and another in my bathroom. And our pack healer has an entire infirmary for wounds like this.”

“Wounds from a necromancer witch who used a water blade to slice into my skin?” Her tone was dry as if she still didn’t quite believe what had happened. Sadly, it happened often enough that we knew how to heal things like this. She’d learn soon.

“You’re already healing—witches heal faster than humans. But as to your question, yes, our pack healer has dealt with a lot of things. She’s older than my parents.”

Her eyes widened. “There’s a lot to take in with that statement.”

I grinned. “Sorry, sometimes I speak and forget that not everybody has been immersed in as much magic and shifter politics as I have.”

I reached for gauze as well as a washcloth and began washing her face slowly. I gripped her chin softly, and her eyes widened as they met mine, her mouth parting. I wanted to lean down and brush my lips against hers, but I waited, at least for the moment.

I needed to breathe, to get myself under control, and then I’d figure out what to do. To say.

“Where do you want to begin?” I asked softly.

“That’s a loaded question,” she said with a laugh, and I grinned.

“Maybe.”

“You said that witches heal faster than humans?”

I winced, knowing I’d probably sent her mind into another tailspin.

“Am I not human anymore?”

I sighed, put herbal ointment on a cotton pad, and began dabbing the cuts. She winced, and I blew cool air over the wound. “You have always been who you are. It’s not an option anymore.”

“I’ve never been human.”

I sighed. “All of us are human. Though some with extra abilities. I can shift into a bear and there are pros and cons to that. You have inherent magic and face those, as well.”

“I’m not…human.”

“You are. It’s sometimes easier to say human rather than use the other word: mundane.”

“So those without magic or powers or shifting abilities, or who aren’t fae, are mundane?”

“Everyone who’s not fae is considered human. The fae are a whole other thing.”

She shook her head. “This is all so confusing.”

“I know,” I said softly. “It’s probably going to be very confusing for a long while. You’ll get the hang of it, though.”

“You say that, and yet I don’t know if I believe you.”

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