Page 51 of Autumn of the Witch

I know, so I don’t, even though I think sometimes I need to.“I know. I’ve beaten the odds this long, and here’s hoping I’ll keep doing it. But we can’t pretend,Sasha. Micah deserves to know, if he stays with us, that it might not be three forever. And that might not be okay with him. It might feel easier to leave and avoid… being left.”

“I don’t think he’s gonna look at it that way, baby, because you know what? I never did.”

“Yes, I know that, but you’re nothim.” Viv gave his head another pat. They were talking in circles, but at least she’d gotten through what she wanted to tell him. That having been abandoned by the people who were supposed to love him, Micah might choose solitude over the pain of losing someone whodid.

“So we should just tell him all this. And ask him.” Sasha turned to peek up at her, one cheek still pressed to her shoulder. “Isn’t that how this shit works?”

“For you, apparently it is.” Viv laughed. “But yes. I think it’s a good conversation to have, while I’m feeling better and everyone is… as settled as we get, I suppose. Even you, though I’m not sure how long that will last.”

“Eh, just pinch my bruises and smack me on the back. It’ll be fine for a bit.” Sasha leaned up on his knees and kissed her. “And maybe after we have the serious talk, I can watch you ride his face. You know. Since you’re feeling better.” His grin was wolfish.

Speaking of wolves… Before she could say anything to what was, honestly, an intriguing suggestion, the door opened and Micah and Zev came back inside. Zev was smiling, and Micah looked wind-tousled and flushed but relaxed.

“I brought you something,” Zev said, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a bundle of raw wool wrapped in twine and handed it over. “Mira sent it, to thank you for the herbs you sent with me last time.”

Viv smiled and took the bundle, then stood to add it to the basket next to her spindle. She was pleased that she could get up so quickly and with only a little bit of dizziness, using Sasha’s shoulder for balance. “I have some more for her. Here.” Feeling more stable now that she was on her feet, she went to the kitchen and found the supplies she’d set aside to send to the village’s healer.

Zev took the herbs and tucked them into his bag, then accepted a mug of cold water to drink. He smiled at Viv and Sasha both, and when it turned sly, Viv knew Micah had told him what happened. “My mate asked after Micah, to make sure he had somewhere safe to spend the winter. I’ll tell him that he does.”

Sasha looked as if he was about to say,He’ll be here for the rest of his winters, forever,so Viv hurriedly responded, “Yes, tell Wolf-Breaker he’s in good hands.”

“So I hear,” Zev said, laughing.

It was good to hear him laugh, to see his pretty blue eyes free of their old fear and wariness. He even hugged her, and she hugged him back tightly and gave his braid a tug. She hoped Micah would find a home here, with them, just as Zev had found one with Dragan in the village.

Sasha was right, she realized, as Zev took his leave after hugging Sasha and Micah. Maybe a conversation was all they needed, to make it clear that they wanted Micah here not just for the winter, but for good. It would be up to him, of course, but he deserved to know he was wanted, loved. If she had learned anything from a lifetime of illness, grief, and loss, it was that you shouldn’t wait to tell someone the important things, because you never knew when it might be too late.

* * *

Micah almost wished Zev had stayed. It would have helped to have someone he could look to when he fumbled for his words or couldn’t find them at all. But Zev had a mate to go home to, and Micah had… he had Viv and Sasha. Sitting there. Sasha covered in bite marks that showed over his collar, and Viv in a gown patterned with stars and clouds.

“I’m making you something,” Micah said, after the silence stretched too long. It was the wrong way to start, he knew, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He grabbed his slate and shoved it at Viv.

“Oh,” she said, staring at his scribbles.

“It’s a chair that moves,” Micah said. “On wheels. You’d have to turn the wheels yourself, or someone else could—those two, on either side, not the little one in the back—but I think if they’re bigger they won’t be hard to move, and you can wear gloves so your hands don’t get dirty. And there’s a guard here so your dress doesn’t catch. We’ll need to test it, so it might look different when it’s done, but I know you hate being carried everywhere, and you should be able to get around when you want to.”

Viv was silent for a long, long moment. “What about this, here?”

“Uh, I was trying to figure out if you could use a crank and a chain to make it move instead of moving the wheels directly, but it would make the wheels snap off, so…”

“Those were the things you kept throwing on the fire? Models of it?”

Micah rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe.”

“You’re so fucking smart,” Sasha said, and Micah looked down. “I can help. I’m good with my hands. And the glassblower can make, like, metal from that weird rock she’s in love with.”

“She isn’t in love, Sasha. She’s just passionate.”

“She calls it her baby.”

Viv gave Micah a knowing look and handed the slate back to him. “I love it, Micah. I can’t wait to see it when it’s done.”

“I’m not good at words,” Micah blurted, and Viv lay her hands in her lap, head slightly tilted. “Making things is easier. I can… tell people how I feel, that way.”

“And what does it mean when you build someone a moving chair?” Viv asked.

“I don’t know. Same thing it means when I make them tea or do the laundry or…” He was rambling, because he didn’t want to say it. Saying it would make it real, and making it real meant he could be hurt again. “In the village, you cut your hand when you mate someone, and you give them a vow. I think I’m… the kind of person who makes things. And we haven’t known each other long, but I would like to… keep making things, for you. Both of you. If you want.”

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