Page 11 of The Witch's Shifter
“I’m coming!” I hear Alden yell from upstairs, voice muffled. He always knows how to make me smile.
Back in the kitchen, I find Harrison lingering near the cat door Alden made him. Tension is apparent in the stiff way he’s holding himself, as if preparing to run or fight.
“It’s awake?” he asks.
“He is. His name is Faolan.”
Harrison sniffs the air, and his whiskers twitch. “He smells terrible. Like dog.”
“He needs a bath, I know.” Using a rag, I lift the lid off my big soup pot, then give the bubbling broth a good stir.
“That’s not what I mean,” Harrison grumbles. “He’s a wolf, Aurora. He doesn’t belong here.”
“Not you too,” I say with a sigh.
“We’re worried about you.” Harrison’s long tail bristles. “He’s dangerous.”
After placing the lid back on the soup, I turn fully to face him. “I know. And I appreciate it. But we need to give him a chance. And besides, he’s still injured. I’d not feel right kicking him out in such a state.” Crouching down, I offer Harrison my hand. It takes a moment, but he finally lets me scratch him behind the ear. “I’ll be careful around him. I promise.”
The sound of footsteps in the foyer has Harrison bolting for the cat door, and he vanishes through it just as Rowan backs through the doorway. He’s still holding his sword, but at least it’s lowered to his side now. He keeps his body in front of mine as Faolan enters the kitchen. The space is already small, but he makes it look even smaller, like it’d be better suited to a family of pixies.
“Take a seat,” I say. “Both of you.”
Rowan glances back at me. “I’ll stand.”
Faolan sinks down into one of the chairs at the table, wincing a bit as he goes. Before Rowan can stop me, I sweep around him and approach Faolan. Suddenly, Rowan’s hand is around my wrist, and he tries to hold me back. I toss him a severe look over my shoulder. The muscles along his jaw go taut, and his eyes flash with anger, but reluctantly, he lets me go. With a sigh, I turn back to Faolan
“You’re badly injured,” I tell him. “I’ve been treating your wounds daily.”
He looks up at me. “How long was I asleep?”
“Almost three days. You had a terrible fever too.” I lift a hand. “May I?”
Behind me, Rowan shifts, and I feel his presence over my shoulder. Faolan nods.
I press the back of my hand to his forehead, then his temple. He’s still warm, but the fire beneath his skin seems to have finally smoldered out. “The fever broke.” Relief colors my tone. “We just need those wounds to heal now.”
“I’ll be fine,” he says.
Footsteps announce Alden before he steps through the kitchen doorway holding a faded pair of cotton trousers. With him in here, there’s almost no room to move. He holds the trousers up. “Think these’ll work?”
“They’re perfect,” I say, reaching to take them from his hand. “Thank you.” I pass them to Faolan, then step back, almost bumping into Rowan since he’s standing so close to me. “You put those on,” I tell Faolan, “and we’ll all have something to eat.”
The three men exchange tense looks, and I narrow my eyes at them.
“Anyone who can’t get along is welcome to skip dinner tonight.” I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s up to you.”
Chapter 9
Aurora
AFTER I’VE FILLED FOUR BOWLS with vegetable soup and have placed a hulking loaf of bread in the center of the table, I step back with a contented sigh.
Not that the men look all that content. On the contrary, they look about ready to crawl out of their skin.
Now clothed from the waist down, Faolan lifts the bowl of soup and gives it a sniff. “What is this?”
“Vegetable soup,” I say. “All harvested from the garden.”
