Page 19 of A Snowstorm & A Stronghorn

He nods, looking bashful by the way he ducks his head. “It’s my passion. Each piece has a bit of magic woven into it.”

As if on cue, a nearby rocking chair begins to gently sway, emitting a soft, soothing melody.

“That’s for a family of lullaby spirits,” he says. “It plays a different tune each night to help their little ones sleep.”

I turn to face him, overwhelmed by the beauty and creativity surrounding us. “You’re incredible, Bram. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

His expression softens, and he takes a step closer. “I’m glad you like it, Fiona. I’ve enjoyed sharing this with you.”

The air between us seems to crackle with energy. He cups my cheek, and my pulse skyrockets when he leans down, his lips meeting mine in a tender kiss.

For a moment, the world fades away. There’s only Bram, his warmth, and the softness of his fur against my skin. When we part, I’m breathless, and my mind is spinning.

“Bramwell Stonehorn? There you are. Not a word in days.” The booming, but not angry, voice shatters the moment. We spring apart, and I whirl around to see an imposing figure filling the doorway.

She’s a Minotaur like Bram, but where his presence is gentle and calming, hers commands attention. Her fur is a mix of deep chestnut and silver, and her impressively large horns curve upward, adorned with small beads and charms. She wears a practical dress with an intricately embroidered apron, and her eyes – so like Bram’s – are fixed on us with an intensity that makes me want to shrink into the floorboards.

“Mom?” says Bram, his voice carrying a faint tinge of embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you today.”

“Clearly,” she says, darting her gaze between us, but she’s smiling. “And who might this be?”

Bram clears his throat. “Mom, this is Fiona MacLean. Fiona, this is my mother, Thalinda Stonehorn.”

I step forward, extending my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Stonehorn.”

Thalinda bypasses my hand entirely, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. In the process, I get a glimpse of her hand, confirming she also has just three digits, so it must be a Minotaur trait. “Oh, none of that ‘Mrs. Stonehorn’ business. Call me Thalinda, dear.”

When she releases me, I gasp for air, my ribs aching. Thalinda doesn’t seem to notice as she looks me up and down, her expression curious.

“So, Fiona,” she says, her tone deceptively casual, “What exactly are your intentions with my son?”

“Mom,” he protests, but she ignores him.

My cheeks burn. “I... uh... We only recently met, actually. I’m new to Evershift Haven.”

“Oh?” Thalinda’s eyebrows rise. “And how did you two come to be acquainted?”

Bram steps in, resting his hand protectively on my shoulder. “Fiona had an accident during the storm. I found her and brought her to safety.”

His mother nods with approval. “How gallant of you, Bramwell. Just like your father.”

She turns back to me, her gaze probing though her tone is gentle. “Now, dear, tell me all about yourself. Where are you from? What do you do? Any magical abilities? Previous relationships? Thoughts on having children?”

“Mom.” He snorts softly. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

Thalinda waves a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I’m just getting to know Fiona. Now, dear, about those children...”

I laugh nervously, looking to Bram for help. He seems just as flustered as I am.

“Actually, Mrs... I mean, Thalinda,” I begin, “I’m still figuring things out. I recently lost my mother, and I’ve been traveling, trying to find my place.”

Thalinda’s expression shifts to one of sympathy. “Oh, you poor dear. I’m so sorry for your loss.” She pulls me into another hug, gentler this time. “You’ve certainly come to the right place. Evershift Haven has a way of helping lost souls find their path.”

As she releases me, her eyes twinkle mischievously. “And it seems you’ve already found quite the guide in my Bramwell.”

Bram groans. “Mom, please.”

Thalinda ignores him, linking her arm through mine. “Come, Fiona. Let me show you around the workshop. I have so many embarrassing stories about Bram’s childhood to share.”

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