Page 77 of The Witch's Shifter
Inside, we find Aurora standing in the foyer, her family around her. It looks like they’re getting ready to leave.
Evelyn’s face is pinched even more than what I’ve come to realize is normal for her. Selene’s eyes are puffy from crying, and she clings to Aurora tightly. Harrison sits at their feet, gazing up at Selene with big wide eyes. If I’m not mistaken, even he looks a bit solemn. And the big owl—I’m not sure its name—is waiting on the cloak rack, sharp talons wrapped around one of the pegs. I decide to keep well away from it. That beak doesn’t look too friendly.
“I love you,” Selene says into Aurora’s hair, her breath ruffling the soft green strands.
“I love you too.”
I don’t think they’re leaving Faunwood yet; it’s not been a week, so they must have at least a day or so left here. Even so, Aurora bids farewell to her sister like she won’t see her in quite some time. And watching, I understand why. If Lydia and I were separated, I’d likely feel the same way.
After our parents died, it was just the two of us. There were days when Lydia could scarcely get out of bed for the sickness of grief, and there were times I thought our fights would shake the house from its very foundation, but after everything, she’s still my baby sister, the person who probably knows me better than I know myself. It’d tear me up if she and James were to move away. I’d miss everything about her, even her cranberry crumble—even though the cranberries make my tongue swell up.
The thought makes me clench my jaw as emotion tries to clog my throat. This is the perfect moment to go upstairs and fetch Aurora’s gift from my bag. I’ve been waiting for the right time to give it to her, and I think it might help cheer her up tonight.
While she hugs Wyland and kisses Fletcher on his naked head, I start up the stairs. Behind me, Faolan shifts, and when I glance back, he’s staring at me, looking like he wants to sprint up the stairs after me to avoid being alone with Aurora’s family. I give him what I hope is an encouraging nod, then continue on my way. If he wants to be here for Aurora, this is as good a time as any to start.
Upstairs, I fetch my bag from the closet, and inside, right where I left it, is the skein of dark green yarn. It’s soft against my fingers, and the color is such a rich green that it looks almost black in the dim light flickering from the hearth. I hope Aurora will like it.
Back in the hallway, I hear the front door close. Her family must’ve left. But before I descend the stairs, my eyes catch on the darkness in the second bedroom, the room that will soon be the baby’s nursery.
I had a difficult time coming to terms with the fact that Aurora will be having Rowan’s child and not mine. At first, I feared she would toss me aside, wanting instead to focus on her new family. But I was so wrong. We’ve only grown closer over the last five months, and during that time, a spark of excitement started to bloom inside me. Now, as I watch her belly grow with each passing week, I think more about the baby on the way, and I can’t wait to meet them.
I’ll need to get that cradle built, like Rowan asked of me. I’m not sure why I’ve been putting it off. Maybe because I want it to be absolutely perfect, and the thought of building something so important has me hesitating to even begin. It’s more intimidating than building my entire cabin was.
Back downstairs in the parlor, I find Aurora and Faolan on the couch, her head on his shoulder, his arm looped around her. The firelight makes the moisture on her cheeks glisten, but she smiles when she sees me. Harrison is sitting in her lap, near enough for Faolan to touch—not that he is. I try not to stare. I’ve never seen Harrison and Faolan within arm’s length of each other. Seems they’re both making an effort tonight. Good on them.
“How are you?” I ask as I step toward the hearth, feeling the warmth emanating from the orange flames.
Aurora shrugs. “I’m okay, I suppose.” Her gaze flicks to the altar she and her sister prepared. It’s still sitting in the middle of the room, the candles atop it having burned low. “I knew she couldn’t stay. I just didn’t think it would hit me this hard, having to say goodbye to her again.”
“Will you be able to see her again next Samhain?” I ask.
Again, she shrugs. “I don’t know. At some point she’ll be too deep into the Otherside for us to reach her.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Faolan asks.
Aurora shifts to look up at him, and the smile that touches her lips is soft. “No. Not at all.”
I hear movement in the kitchen, and then Rowan steps into the foyer, but I don’t think Aurora is aware of him yet. He lingers there in the partial darkness, listening but not speaking.
Aurora continues, “It’s the way things should be. When a soul leaves this plane, they go into the Otherside, and from there, they return to the source from which we all come. It takes some souls longer to depart, but it’s where we belong. So if I try to reach Auntie next year and can’t find her, it’ll mean she’s gone back...” Aurora sniffles. “And I’ll be sad, but I’ll be happy too.”
My gaze flicks from Aurora to Rowan as he steps from the foyer into the parlor. He leans in the doorway, hands in hispockets, head down. His long hair hangs around his face, tousled and windblown.
“Do you think Lucy made it back?” His voice is so low, it’s hard for me to hear.
Aurora extracts herself from Faolan’s embrace, eases Harrison off her lap, and crosses the room on quiet feet. Rowan still doesn’t look up.
“I know she did,” she says to him. Her hands rise, and she cradles Rowan’s face. The moment is so tender, I almost feel I should look away. “And from what I know, it’s a lovely place to be. It’shome. For all of us.”
His jaw flexes, and he nods once. When his eyes finally lift to hers, she presses onto her tiptoes to place a kiss upon his cheek. The touch seems to ease his strain—his shoulders visibly relax.
Aurora turns from him. When she looks at me, her gaze darts to the skein held in my hands. She tips her head curiously. “What’s that?”
I squeeze the soft yarn, then clear my throat and step forward to offer it to her. “I bought it while I was in Wysteria. With all the knitting you’ve been doing, I thought you might need more yarn. It’s soft. Perhaps the baby will like it.”
Even in the firelight, I can see the red flush that colors her cheeks. She reaches for the skein and takes it with delicate hands. “You got this... for the baby?”
“Well, for you,” I say, suddenly feeling nervous with everyone’s eyes on me. Even Harrison is staring. “But maybe it would work for socks or little gloves.”
