Page 2 of The Witch's Spell
I fumble for words. “Oh, um, just from Selene. We’re planning her next visit.”
“Ah.” Rowan nods once, curiosity satisfied. “I’m glad.”
Thank the goddess.
Behind him, footsteps sound on the stairs, and Alden descends into the foyer. He’s dressed in layers, prepared for the cold outside. His beard is longer now, thick and unruly, but his smile still shines through.
“Off to chop more wood?” I ask.
“Yup. You know where Faolan is? He said he’d help me today.”
I nod toward the parlor, which now leads to the extra bedroom and washroom. “Still sleeping.”
Alden’s brows pull together. “What? At this time of morning?”
“Get his ass up,” Rowan says. He eases past me to fetch his cloak from the hook in the foyer. “If we have to work today, so does he.”
Alden grumbles something under his breath, then thumps into the parlor, socked feet padding over the floorboards. I hear the bedroom door open, then Alden’s voice telling Faolan to get up. My bond with Faolan tingles with his irritation at having been awoken, and I smile.
Brookside might still be cramped, even with that extra room, but if it’s bursting at the seams, it’s with love. And I couldn’t be more delighted.
“Don’t fall asleep again,” Alden says, jostling Faolan where they’re standing in the foyer. It’s a tad comedic, given how much bigger Faolan is. They’ve all got their cloaks and boots on, but Faolan still looks half asleep, like he might slump over against the wall at any moment. When he yawns, I catch sight of his elongated canine teeth, which stay with him even in his human form.
One at a time, I press a kiss to each of their cheeks—Rowan’s clean-shaven, Alden’s thick with a beard, and Faolan’s prickly with dark stubble. Faolan’s hands come around my waist, and he prevents me from stepping back. His breath is warm on my skin when he nuzzles his face into my neck, and it makes me giggle.
“You’re tickling me,” I say, squirming in his grip.
But he doesn’t release me. Instead, he reaches up to push my hair back—it’s gotten even longer now thanks to my pregnancy—and tugs the collar of my thick winter dress aside. There, on the side of my neck, is his claiming mark. The scar is still pink, in the shape of his wolf jaws.
Stooping, he presses a tender kiss to the spot. Our bond warms, and I soften into his touch.
“All right, wolf, get a move on,” Rowan grumbles.
“I will end you, tiny knight,” Faolan growls in return.
If he’d said that a couple months ago, I would’ve believed him. But now this is normal, part of Rowan and Faolan’s daily routine. I don’t even feel any anger through our bond.
Alden, ever the neutralizer, grabs hold of the both of them, one in each hand, and shoves them toward the door.
“Be back for lunch,” I tell Alden, and he nods. “And I’ll see you for dinner,” I say to Rowan. The other two are venturing into the forest to chop more dead trees for firewood, but Rowan is heading into Faunwood for his knight duty, so he won’t be home until later this evening, after the sun has gone down.
“Love you, my queen,” Rowan whispers. The other two step through the door and into the chill winter day, but Rowan hesitates and steals a kiss from me, his lips still tasting of the licorice tea I made him for breakfast.
“Love you too,” I whisper against his mouth.
Then he trudges into the cold, and I close the door firmly behind him.
Once they’ve departed, Harrison comes trotting in from the parlor and takes a seat on the hardwood floor, staring up at me.
“Well?” He tips his head to one side. “What did she say?”
I pull the letter out from my deep dress pocket, where I hid it so no one would ask any more questions. I didn’t want to have to lie again. I hate feeling like I can’t tell them the truth. But it’s for a good cause... I hope.
The penmanship on the front is swirly, elegant.
But it’s not Selene’s.
“I don’t know yet,” I say, cradling the letter in my hands like it may turn to dust at any moment.
