Page 45 of The Witch's Shifter
He doesn’t have to tell us twice. We retreat to Selene and Wyland’s room, which has two big windows overlooking the pumpkin patch. Seeing it now, overflowing with ripe round pumpkins just waiting to be picked, I recall the vine whisper elixir Alden and Rowan helped me with and am so grateful Auntie’s spellbook gave me what I needed to save the patch. How sad it would be to look out the window and see withered brown vines instead of abundance.
“Here you go, Harrison,” Selene says as she sets his paws down on the bed. He stretches and yawns, then curls up to nap. With a smile, Selene goes to one of the windows and pushes it open wide, inviting the autumn air in. She lets out a low whistle,and I perk up where I’m sitting in a rocking chair beside the hearth, where a fire crackles softly.
Selene remains at the window, the breeze making her pale hair dance around her cheeks. Then she reaches out an arm, and there’s a rustling of feathers as a large snowy owl lands upon her forearm, talons wrapping carefully so as not to mar her skin.
“Gwynn,” I say, heart swelling with affection. “I had a feeling you were around here somewhere.”
“She’s been looking forward to the trip,” Selene says as she turns from the window, bringing her spirit companion into the room. “It’s good to get out and stretch your wings.” She draws a finger down Gwynn’s feathered head, and the owl lets out a rumble in response. There’s a hat stand near the door, and Selene carries Gwynn to it and lifts her arm so that the owl may alight onto a peg.
Selene turns and makes her way across the room, and her dark blue dress swishes softly as she settles into a chair at the tiny tea table. “So.” One of her silver brows arches in the corner. “I think you’ve got a lot to tell me.”
I rock softly, tracing one fingertip over Fletcher’s silky baby skin. “Where do you want me to start?”
“From the very beginning. Seems there’s a bit you left out.”
I look up into her dark blue eyes, note the smirk on her mouth, and feel my lips stretching into a smile.
“There wasn’t enough parchment in all of Faunwood for me to tell you everything that’s happened. It’ll take a while,” I warn.
“Good thing we have all the time in the world. Now go on. And don’t leave a single thing out.”
Chapter 24
Faolan
DO I FEEL LIKE A coward? Yes. But I couldn’t bring myself to meet Aurora’s family, with their smiling faces and city-dweller smells. It’s been a few weeks, and Aurora hasn’t rejected me, but neither has she fully accepted me as her mate. And somehow, it doesn’t feel right meeting her family. How would she even explain who I am? No, better to keep my distance. It’ll be easier for her that way.
I know they were going to the inn first, so I feel safe—at least for the time being—at the cottage. I’m outside, sitting on the back steps that lead to the kitchen door, watching the chickens peck the earth. They don’t much like me—seems no one in this cottage does, apart from Aurora—and they keep their distance. At least the cat’s not here. For once, I don’t feel his gaze on me, glaring from the bushes or shadowed doorways.
Everything in my life changed so fast. I went from being a highly valued member of the Emberstone pack to being... well, nothing. A lone wolf. An exile. In all the years I spent wondering who my mate was and when I’d meet her, I never imagined she’dbe a witch, and Idefinitelydidn’t expect her to be with two other men and carrying one of their children.
I drop my head into my hands and let out a groan. My wounds, though almost healed now thanks to Aurora’s mindful tending, ache with the memory of Cathal tearing into me, his teeth rending my flesh open while the other members of the pack watched, some as bloodthirsty as him, others with their tails between their legs, heads dropped low.
My family. My pack. Now no better than strangers.
A longing for familiar surroundings and faces makes my insides ache.
This is such a damn mess.
I’m still sitting on the steps when I hear distant boots treading over dirt and fallen leaves. My first instinct is to sprint into the woods, but I still myself and wait, focusing on my hearing. There are two sets of footsteps, no more. So Aurora’s family must still be in town.
That realization helps calm my beating heart. I’m notafraidof people—I’m not afraid of anyone—but that doesn’t mean I want to talk to them, smile at them, try to pretend this is all perfectly normal and we’re a big happy family.
I scoff at the thought.
As the footsteps come closer, I catch two scents on the wind: Alden and Rowan. Their quiet voices carry through the trees, but I don’t bother trying to listen in. I just don’t care.
They approach the front of the cottage, and Alden notices me sitting on the side steps. Rowan continues into the house, the door opening and closing quietly, but Alden heads in my direction.
Great.
I’ve not spent much time with this one, the carpenter. Truthfully, I’ve not spent much time witheitherof them. But he doesn’t grate on my nerves like the redhead. LikeRowan.Aurora doesn’t like when I refuse to use his name. Same goes for the cat,Harrison.
I’m working on it.
I focus my gaze on the chickens, who’re still pecking about, though the brown one is now rolling in the dirt, giving herself a dirt bath. It makes me want to do the same, to run through the trees and roll in fresh-fallen leaves. It’s been too long since I last shifted. My wolf is itching to break free. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I feel so cranky.
Alden’s shadow falls over me, and with a sigh, I glance up at him.
