Page 68 of The Witch's Shifter
“The cake got you through the door,” she says, holding out a hand so that I may pass the plate to her. “Now tell me why you’re here.”
I can’t help but smile. “You’re direct.”
“It’s so much easier that way, don’t you think?”
Can’t disagree with that.
“Very well.” I adjust my tunic and sit straighter. “I’m here to speak with you about Aurora.”
Evelyn’s shoulders tense, but she hides it well. It occurs to me she’s been masking her true feelings since she arrived here. But why?
After taking a bite of cake, she flicks her gaze to me. “You’ll have to be more specific, Sir Highcliff.”
“Are you angry with her? Has she done something to wrong you?”
Now her eyes narrow. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Because Aurora has spoken to me of you. She feels she is a disappointment to you. And watching the way you interact with her, Lady Silvermoon. ..” I shake my head. “I’m sad to say I see why she feels this way. But I don’t understand, no matter how I try. I may be biased, but I believe your daughter is one of the most caring, gentle, beautiful-hearted people anyone could meet, and for the life of me, I cannot comprehend why you don’t seem to see that in her, why you don’t appreciate and nurture her delicate nature.”
Evelyn’s lips tighten as she stares at me. Her eyes simmer, but she says nothing. I remain quiet, waiting. The fork clinks against the plate as she takes another bite of cake and chews slowly.
“There is much you don’t understand,” she whispers at long last. Her gaze is on the fire now instead of me.
I turn her words over in my head for a moment, then ask, “Does Aurora understand? Because so far as I know, you’ve left her in the dark, haven’t told her why you are so hard on her.”
That elicits a reaction. Her head snaps toward me. “I fail to see, Sir Highcliff, how the relationship I have with my daughter is any of your concern.”
Now, for the first time since stepping into her room, an ember of frustration flares to life in my gut. “I love Aurora, and if that is not good enough for you, she carries my child. I have every intention of raising that child, of being there for them—bothof them—every day for as long as I breathe. Does that not entitle me to concern for Aurora’s well-being?”
“Planting a seed does not make you a gardener.” Bitter resentment colors her tone. “And while I can appreciate you coming here to speak with me, I must say, it’s quite brash of you.”
“You said it yourself—it’s best to be direct.” I sit straighter in the chair and hold her indigo gaze. “Would you prefer I not try to protect the woman I love?”
“I wouldprefer,” she says as she stands slowly, “for you to leave. Promptly.” The sharp edge of her jaw and the set of her lips leave no room for argument. But even if I were to press, I don’t believe I’d make much—if any—progress.
With a sigh, I push to my feet. “As you wish, Lady Silvermoon.” My boots brush softly over the rug underfoot. After crossing the room, I pause at the door. “For what it’s worth, I know Aurora loves you deeply. I hope you see that as well and can find it within yourself to value her in the way she deserves.” My hand rests upon the gleaming metal door handle. Before slipping out, I add, “I know how it feels to lose someone you love, and I would hate for you to lose the chance to truly connect with your daughter. It would be a tragedy.”
Then I leave, and she says nothing else as her door closes quietly behind me.
Chapter 34
Rowan
MORNING CAN’T COME QUICKLY ENOUGH the next day. I awake before the sun, but when I reach for Aurora’s side of the bed, I find it cold and empty. Which means she’s still gone and didn’t magically return in the middle of the night like I’d hoped. The realization makes me feel ill.
After padding downstairs, I peek into the parlor. Alden is asleep on the couch, breathing heavily, the fire having burned out in the night. The air is cold, and so are the wooden planks beneath my bare feet.
While stoking the kitchen fire to life and fetching water for tea, I keep glancing into the tree line, waiting for Aurora to appear. I wonder, is this how she felt when she was waiting for me to return from my journey to find Faolan? Did she pace before this same window, looking for me? And why do we all seem to go missing in the woods now that he’s come into Aurora’s life?
“Shifters,” I grumble while wiping my hands on a kitchen towel. “Always causing trouble.”
The water will be ready shortly, and I decide to busy myself with feeding the hens and letting them out of the coop. When I swing the gate open, Lucy is the first to come strutting out. She pecks my bare toes, making me laugh, then lets me stoop down and pet her.
Though we have three hens now, Lucy remains my favorite. I still find her in the house sometimes, plucking around the kitchen looking for goodies or sleeping perched upon the couch or rocking chair in the parlor. If she keeps it up, Marigold and Whisper are going to start using Harrison’s cat door too, and then the whole house will be full of feathers and four-toed footprints.
Not that I’d complain. And I’m quite sure no one else would either.
I scatter food for the hens, stare into the forest line for a few minutes, then finally relent and head back into the house. When I step into the kitchen, Alden is there, yawning and pouring two cups of tea.
