Page 8 of The Witch's Spell
Guess my asshole brother is joining us for tea.
Chapter 6
Faolan
ON THE WAY BACK TO the cottage, I make Orla and Cathal walk ahead of us. There’s no way I’m turning my back onhim—or letting Aurora do so. She walks beside me, hand clutching mine, body pressed against my arm. I’m wearing my cloak, but I ruined yet another pair of trousers with my hasty transformation. I’m going to have to pick up work in Wysteria if things keep going like this; Aurora has spent so many eldertokens on me already.
Damn Cathal.
Alden walks in front of us as well, pushing his cart, which we’d already loaded up with split logs before my twin arrived. Harrison rides in the cart, perched on a log, nails digging in for stability. I don’t think he’s taken his eyes off Orla and Cathal, and perhaps for the first time, I feel grateful for him.
I never thought he and I would see eye to eye on anything, but maybe I was wrong. Guess the whole “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” thing might apply here.
Aurora is quiet on the walk home, but I can feel her emotions through our bond. At first, right after I claimed her, it was mostly intense emotion that would bleed through, but as we’ve further settled into our connection, it’s become easier to read even her subtle emotions. Right now, she feels unsure. I can’t blame her.
I’ve racked my brain, but I have no idea why Cathal might be here. Last time I saw him, we were both covered in blood—my blood, mostly—and he made it crystal clear that I was to leave the pack and never return. So, why the hell is he here? Why did he seek me out? Some cruel joke? I wouldn’t put it past him. But Orla doesn’t seem the type. I’ve only known her for a short while, but in that time, she never struck me as someone who would torment others just for the hell of it. Hopefully she’s been an equalizer for him, like Aurora has been for me.
My gaze flicks to Aurora. Her freckled cheeks are pink from the cold, and her lips are puckered into a slight pout.
Whatever happens, whatever Cathal wants from me, I’ll ensure she doesn’t get caught in the middle of it. I’ll die before I let that happen.
Back at Brookside, Alden announces he’s going to stay outside and work on chopping the split logs into firewood. Harrison meows, probably communicating something to Aurora, and stays with Alden as the rest of us head for the cottage. He meets my eyes, holding my gaze, and I almost feel like he’s... trusting me? That might be a first. Teeth clenched,I give him a small nod. He flicks his tail and bounds after Alden, who’s walking toward the woodshed.
I would much rather stay out here with them. Being trapped in Aurora’s tiny cottage with my asshole brother definitely isn’t my idea of fun. It’s more like torture.
Inside, Aurora hurries into the new bedroom on the first floor, where she’s been staying as her pregnancy has progressed. The stairs are a struggle for her these days. She returns with a dress, which she hands to Orla. But Orla is significantly taller than Aurora, so when she puts it on, the dress only reaches the middle of her calves. Despite this, she smiles, yellow eyes shining, and Aurora seems pleased.
I’m not letting Cathal lurk around with his dick hanging out, so I squeeze Aurora’s hand, then head upstairs and grab two pairs of trousers and an extra tunic from the armoire drawer in the bedroom. After yanking my trousers on, I descend the stairs, still shirtless and barefoot.
“Here,” I snap. I fling the trousers and tunic at Cathal, who’s leaning on the doorframe leading into the kitchen, watching Orla and Aurora. I’d hoped to smack him in the face with them, but his reflexes are way too fast for that, and he catches the clothes easily.
His resulting smirk makes me growl.
As he steps into the trousers and pulls the tunic over his head, I cross my arms over my bare chest. Physically, Cathal and I are the same size—we have been since we were boys. But now my skin is marred with scars in the shape of his jaws.
How I’d love to give him a few scars to remember me by. Seems only fair.
Cathal runs a hand over his short black hair, then levels his gaze on me.
“So,” I grumble, eyes narrowed, “why the hell are you here?”
“To see you.” His smirk is unchanging. “Is that so hard to believe, little brother?”
Cathal was born mere minutes before me, and he spent our childhood lording that over me. These days, it doesn’t work like it used to.
“Yes. Youexiledme, or did you forget?”
“Was that you?” He leans casually in the doorway again, his contentedness trying my last nerve. “I can’t seem to remember.”
My lips pull back in a snarl. Inside, my wolf thrashes. It wants to throw Cathal clean through the front door and pummel him into the snow and mud until he leaks red into the earth.
Not that Aurora would be very happy about that. Or Alden, seeing as he’d need to fix the door. Seems like he’s always fixing our problems.
Dammit.
“You need to leave.” My voice is low.
And it dawns on me that Rowan said something similar to me that day I woke up on the couch in the parlor. How the tables have turned.
