Page 23 of The Witch's Shifter
After a short while, I think he’s fallen asleep, but then his low voice says, “When will the child arrive?”
Knowing it was Aurora’s pregnancy that drove him to throw his body through a window, I’m hesitant to give him details, but he’s exhausted and full, and I don’t imagine he’ll fly into a rage again. So, softly, I say, “Sometime early next year. Likely before the snow melts.”
He pauses for a long moment. “Did you mean to do it?”
“Get her pregnant?”
His only response is a rumbling grunt.
“No.” Shifting on the cold stone, I stare up at the impenetrable darkness overhead. “It was a surprise to us both. A trick played by the goddess on Beltane.”
Once again, there’s a pause. This one is longer than the last, like he’s working through each detail I give him before asking a new question.
“And you plan to stay? To raise the child?”
My answer comes out immediately. “Of course.” I’m surprised he’d ask such a thing, but maybe things are different where he’s from. Or maybe he knows all about absent fathers. That’s something Aurora is much too familiar with.
Faolan lets out a sigh, and without being able to see him, I think it sounds... resigned.
“Very noble,” he whispers, but this time, the word sounds less like a jab and more like a... a compliment, I suppose.
He doesn’t ask any more questions after that, and I’m still awake when his breathing deepens and he begins to snore softly.
And for some reason, I almost smile.
Chapter 16
Alden
“DON’T HAVE A WINDOW OF that size, I’m afraid.” The glassmaker shakes his head, then pushes his spectacles higher up on the bridge of his nose.
“It’s a common size.” I try not to let my irritation seep through my tone. “You’re sure?”
The glassmaker nods once, and his spectacles go sliding right back down. “Quite. Though we can make one custom. It’ll not be ready until tomorrow though.”
I’m standing in the glass shop, surrounded by glass of all shapes, colors, and sizes. I woke this morning to a clear autumn sky, and even now, sunlight streams through the windows, setting the shop ablaze with rainbows of color.
Hands propped on the front counter, I drop my head and let out a sigh. Seems I’ll be staying in Wysteria an extra day.
“Very well. Can you have it ready in the morning?”
“We’ll do our best.”
The man jots the dimensions of the pane I’ll need down in a leather journal, then turns away from me to help another customer.
I leave the shop and am very careful not to let the door slam on my way out; the last thing I need is a bunch of those blown-glass statuettes falling off the shelves and getting tagged onto my final bill.
Out on the street, it’s a different world from the one I’m used to back in Faunwood. With the storm having passed and the sun shining down from the pale sky, the city is alive and bustling. All around me, the buildings are painted pastel shades of pink, yellow, and blue, and autumn flowers explode from window boxes and big planters lining the wide cobbled walkways.
As I set off down the street, unsure where I’m going and how I’ll spend my day, I admire the beautiful aspen trees growing along the roads and sidewalks, ablaze with red and orange and yellow. Carriages roll past, dry leaves crunching beneath their wheels.
I walk slowly, meandering past shops, aromatic bakeries, and pubs. It seems you can buy anything here, from maps to crystals to tinctures and teas. If Aurora were here with me, I imagine her eyes would be wide and bright with wonder. She’d probably want to stop in each and every shop.
One shop in particular catches my eye, and I double back to gaze into the big display window, where baskets overflowing with colorful fabrics and yarns tempt shoppers to come inside.
Aurora has been knitting a lot lately; she can usually be found in the parlor after dinner, slowly gliding back and forth in the rocking chair, Harrison in her lap, the fire crackling softly beside her as her knitting needles clink together pleasantly. Perhaps she could use some new yarn.
The shop door opens with the chime of a bell, and I’m greeted by an overwhelming selection. Shelves stuffed full of fabrics,threads, and yarns line the bright blue walls, and a chunky woven rug covers the hardwood floor underfoot.
