Page 38 of Shaman

Mercy only grinned, though. “Drinks are there” – gesture to the fridge – “or there” – elbow toward the counter, where several bottles of wine and whiskey waited. “Help yourselves. Mags said you like red, and she’s got three different kinds.”

“Oh,” Ian said, something unclenching inside him.

Alec shut the door and said, “Thanks, great.”

The queen herself came whisking into the kitchen, wineglass in one hand, resplendent in a casual blue sweater, leggings, and warm wool socks. “Hi, boys.” She smiled at them, and it was kind, genuine. “Merry Christmas. Make yourselves at home.”

“I…” Ian felt like an idiot, knew he was blushing. He had no idea why any of these people would welcome him into their home, but they had, and he was astounded.

As if she knew just what he was thinking, Maggie set her glass down and walked up to him, smile turning soft and knowing. “It’s okay, honey,” she said, under her breath. She stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek, a soft press of lips, floral scent of her perfume filling his nose. After, she whispered in his ear, “Welcome to the family.” She lowered back down and gave him A Look. “Okay?”

He felt himself smile. “Okay.”

~*~

What is love? Is it something you feel?

Or is it something you possess? Something you can give to someone, like a gift. Something they can give to you.

I think maybe it’s all of those things.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s the thing that saves us.

THE END

Merry Christmas, everyone, and Happy New Year!

Thank you for reading Ian’s story. He (and I!) would dearly love an Amazon review if you feel so inclined.

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