Page 44 of The Witch's Rite
AURORA IS PREGNANT. WITH ROWAN’S baby.
I’m not sure how many times I’ll have to say it to myself before it settles in, before it feels real.
I drive another nail with my hammer, finishing up the trim on Lucy’s chicken coop. After blowing a bit of wood dust away, I climb off the ladder, sling my hammer into my tool belt, and step back to survey the work. I’m pleased with how it came together, and hopefully the hen will like it as well.
The coop is all raw wood right now, and I know Aurora will want to paint it. She’ll probably pick a cheerful color, like pink or yellow or blue.
What color will the baby’s room be?
The thought makes my stomach squeeze.
Sharing her with Rowan has been hard enough, but now... now how will I fit into the picture? Will there still be a place for me here, with her?
Aurora was feeling a bit better when we left Niamh’s apothecary, but I still insisted we get a ride back to the cottage.Mr. Tillman, who I learned was the one to bring Aurora to Faunwood this past spring, was kind enough to give us a ride with his horse and cart. Aurora didn’t speak a single word on the ride home. She just leaned against me, her head on my shoulder, and stared off into the summer trees as we passed them by. When we got back to the cottage, I helped her out of the cart, and then she went straight into the house, leaving me standing outside in the summer sun. Leaving me alone to work through all these feelings without her.
I saw Rowan when he arrived, and now he’s in there with her. Has she told him yet? How is he going to react? Will it just be the three of them now: Aurora, Rowan, and their child?
Pain lances through me, a deep aching thing. I need to take a break from all this, need to get away for a while.
With a sigh, I remove my tool belt and drop it into the grass beside my other tools. It lands on a dandelion, and a cluster of seed heads puff up. After one last glance at the sunny yellow cottage—the cottageIhelped Aurora paint—I head for the woods. Maybe the hot springs will help me clear my head.
WHEN I GET BACK TO the cottage about an hour or so later, I spot Aurora sitting on the tree swing in the distance, her bare feet in the grass, a book propped open in her lap. Her green hair hangs loose around her shoulders, looking soft and gleaming in the early-evening light. She’s not seen me yet, hasn’t noticed me hesitating at the tree line, watching her from a distance.
This image of her, so beautiful and peaceful, reminds me of how much I love her, how badly I want to be a part of her life. But despite the time I spent in the springs, trying to get my headstraight, I’m still a mess of emotions. If she chooses she doesn’t want me anymore...
I grit my teeth against the very thought of it.
My boots shift on the forest floor, and Aurora sits up, her head turning in my direction. As soon as she lays eyes on me, a gentle smile curls across her lips, and she lifts a hands and beckons me toward her.
For some reason, I feel nervous as I approach, like she’s a wild creature or something equally as untamed. I’ve spent so much time with her, have spent more evenings than I can count listening to her deep breathing as she sleeps, yet I feel almost like a stranger as I walk toward her. And it pains me deeper than I can say.
“Hello,” Aurora says as I come to lean on the tree her swing hangs from. It’s a sturdy ancient thing, tall and sprawling and deeply rooted within the earth. Perhaps it will grant me strength—goddess knows I could sure use it.
I grunt a reply, and one of Aurora’s brows quirks up in the corner.
“Now, don’t tell me we’re back tothatagain,” she says, sounding completely normal, like we didn’t just find out she’s carrying another man’s child.
Speaking of Rowan, I’m thankful he’s made himself scarce, at least for now. Even Harrison is keeping his distance, sleeping on the veranda in a patch of golden sunlight. It’s just me and her.
“I... don’t know what to say.” I cast my gaze upward, to the bough her swing hangs from. It doesn’t so much as budge as she swings gently back and forth, her long skirt drifting across the tall summer grass.
“Alden.”
Her voice calls my gaze back to her, and when she meets my eyes, she smiles.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, something I didn’t get the chance to say earlier today.” She stands from the swing, sets her book upon the wooden bench, and takes a step toward me. I tense as she reaches out to place her hands upon my chest. My breath catches when she pushes onto her tiptoes to whisper into my ear, “I love you too.”
Warmth spreads from my core out to my extremities, chasing away the cold that’s been trying to close in on me since we heard the news. I was so concerned about her after she got sick that I scarcely remembered telling her I’m in love with her. But to hear it spoken back to me softens me to her, knocks down the wall I’d already started building back up.
Her palms glide up my chest, and she cradles my face in her hands, her fingers pressing through my scruffy beard. When her lips meet mine, they taste like roses, and I sigh against her mouth, finally wrapping my arms around her and pulling her in. She kisses me like it’s the first time, her lips exploring mine, her touch tantalizing against my skin.
I pull back to catch my breath, and she gives me that smile I love so much, the one that makes her eyes and freckles crinkle.
“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” She presses her ear to my chest, eyes closing, and I reach up to stroke a hand down the length of her hair. It feels slightly damp. “Everything just... sent me for a spin.”
I grunt once more, and it makes her pull back and look up at me.
“Talk to me, Alden. What are you thinking?” The smile is gone from her mouth now, her lips turning down as a furrow forms in her brow.
