Page 15 of The Witch's Spell
Thorne pulls out a chair at the table. From my periphery, I see he struggles a bit to sit down. Once he’s in the chair,he sets his cane off to one side, his eyes sweeping across the kitchen.
In the firelight, I can see that his eyes are a pale silver gray. They’re wide, curious, and rimmed in white eyelashes. He looks like he just stepped out of an ice kingdom. I suppose, in a way, he did. My gaze flicks to the window, outside of which the storm still rages.
Alden and Faolan finish with the other fires just as I pull the kettle off the flames. Faolan rejects my offer to pour him a cup, so I just make three.
“Thank you, Miss... Aurora?” Thorne says as I set his teacup on the table in front of him.
“It’s the least I can do.” I settle into the chair across from him, one hand going to my belly. “You said you’re a traveler. Where were you headed?” I ask.
Faolan and Alden both listen intently. Alden is leaning against the kitchen counter, teacup held in one hand, and Faolan is slouched in the doorway, his wide shoulders taking up the entire frame.
“I’m... not sure,” Thorne says. “I didn’t have a destination in mind. I knew there was a settlement around here, but the rest I left up to chance.”
“Up to chance?” Faolan grumbles. His blue eyes meet mine, and our bond tingles with his distrust of the stranger. “Sounds like a good way to get lost.”
Thorne shrugs, not bothering to look back at Faolan. “It’s usually not a problem, so long as a blizzard doesn’t hit. And besides”—his pale lips turn up in one corner—“getting lost isn’t so bad. You never knowwhat you might find.”
I’m not sure if it’s his intention to suddenly meet my gaze when he says that, but it makes a surprised tingle go through me.
There’s something peculiar about him, but I can’t yet put my finger on it. I can’t tell if he’s lying or not, but Faolan, who’s scowling now, seems convinced he is.
“And where are you coming from?” Alden asks. His voice is low, gravelly—I can tell he was sleeping when the knock woke him up.
Thorne sips his tea, then lifts one shoulder in another shrug. “It’s a very long way from here. You wouldn’t know it.”
“Try me,” Faolan says.
But Thorne says nothing further, just sips his tea, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world, even with a shifter lurking over his shoulder. To be fair, he doesn’tknowwhat Faolan is, but even so, his apparent lack of concern almost makes me laugh.
What an odd man.
Alden yawns, and it makes me yawn as well.
“You need to sleep, Aurora,” Faolan says. He straightens up in the doorway, the firelight making his brown skin glow.
He’s right. My body feels heavy and sluggish, and I’m starting to struggle to keep my eyes open.
But where will Thorne sleep? With all the rooms occupied, I’ve nowhere to put him, and I certainly can’t send him back out into the storm.
“I’ll head upstairs,” Alden says, solving my dilemma for me. He finishes his tea, then pushes away from the counter. “Rowan can share.”
The thought of the two of them crammed into that bed makes me smile. The three of us have slept in that bed before, so thereisroom, but it’s still funny to picture.
“Thank you,” I tell him. Then I focus on Thorne. “We don’t have much room, but you’re welcome to stay on the couch tonight. There are plenty of blankets, and the fire will keep you company.”
Thorne’s eyes widen. “I don’t mean to intrude. I’d just hoped for a brief respite from the cold, only until the storm lets up.”
I picture him struggling through the deep snow, his journey made more difficult by his use of the cane.
“Don’t be silly.” I wave off his concern and push to my feet. “It’s late, and you were frozen. Take the couch, and hopefully by morning the storm will have cleared.”
Still seated at the table, he looks up at me, damp white hair almost obscuring his pale eyes. He holds my gaze, and that same tingle from before goes through me.
“Thank you, Aurora. Consider me in your debt.”
Chapter 9
Thorne
