Page 12

Chapter 12

Callum gathered up the last of the nest, frowning. The one thing he had gifted Rowan that he enjoyed, reduced to piles of rubble. “All that work, destroyed by my own doing,” he grumbled, shoveling it all into the fireplace.

The debris ignited in a bright flash, crackling and sparkling before dying back to its usual flames. The house was strangely quiet. Chances are it was as disappointed as Callum was after tonight’s debacle. The nest was gone, Aster was frightened into a panic, and Rowan’s talisman, the thing he never removed from his neck, had been broken. And it was all Callum’s doing. Rowan was sure to reject him. He was probably waiting for Callum to return to his wing that very moment, ready to end this farce once and for all.

He pressed a hand to the mantle. “I should have stopped at the nest. I should have warned Broderick about the ceilings…” He lowered his head. “I should have told him about Orlaith ages ago.” The shock in Rowan’s eyes when her name left Callum’s lips. The disappointment. All of it made him want to retch. I was foolish,” he told the house. “I was afraid. I didn’t want what happened to her to happen to him as well. I couldn’t bear it.” The house’s hearth flamed in sympathy. Callum scrubbed his face, he gave the mantle a pat of thanks then left, closing Rowan’s door behind him. Tonight, he’d sleep in his old home down in the house’s basement, pay penance in the cold, dank underground to give the witch-boy some peace. Then tomorrow he’d face his fate.

A brisk chill whisked past Callum on the stairs, Rowan’s warm chuckle swiveling his ears. “So, your nine brothers are all named Broderick?” Rowan asked. Callum softened his hoof falls, creeping into the living room. The front door was open, and Rowan sat cross legged in the threshold, Broderick’s head in his lap. The stag grunted as he was petted, eyes closed with contentment. Of all the sights Callum expected to see tonight, this was not one of them. “Doesn’t that get confusing?” Rowan continued. “Or is it a deer thing and you just know which Broderick is which?”

“Witch-boy?”

Rowan twisted, brows shooting sky high. One hand still rested on Broderick’s head, the other clutching his broken talisman, its sigil glowing a dim blue. “Oh, uh hey.”

“Hey,” Callum repeated, looking back and forth between Rowan and Broderick. “I thought you would have sent him away.”

Rowan’s cheeks flushed pink. “I was going to but then we started talking. First off, the fact that I can understand him is weird but explains Ivy and Maximus. And two, I didn’t know stags were so interesting.”

“Then don’t let me interrupt.”

“No, no! You’re not!” Rowan struggled to stand, clutching his thigh, and clinging to Broderick’s antlers. In three quick strides, Callum had Rowan in his arms, helping him stand. Much to his shock, Rowan let him “We were just finishing up. Besides, I should probably let Broderick rest.” The stag’s nostrils flared as he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed with Callum but Rowan gave his neck a pat and his irritation disappeared. “You had an eventful night, didn’t you buddy? Hold on, I’ll go get you that blanket I promised.”

Something gave Callum’s heart a sharp tug. His tail flicked as Rowan snagged a fluffy blanket from the couch. “You’ve been here this whole time talking to him?”

He didn’t think it possible for Rowan to blush even brighter, but he turned as bright as a pomegranate. “How can I say no to that face?” Broderick batted his long eyelashes before wiggling his nose.

Callum cracked a little smile. “I’m not immune to his charms either.”

Rowan shook out his blanket, draping it over Broderick’s back “Okay, that should keep you warm for the night. You sure you want to sleep on the porch? Don’t you have a home somewhere?”

“Stags take their duties very seriously. As a familiar he’ll stay as close as allowed.” Callum rubbed his palms together. “That is, if you accepted him.”

Rowan pursed his lips, then gave Broderick a nod. “You start tonight.”

Broderick’s bellow of joy flattened Callum’s ears and he shushed him with a hiss. “Hush before you start another ruckus!” The stag flicked a careless tongue at him then trotted away with a proud snort, settling on the porch swing.

The silence between them was heavy, Rowan rubbing his bare arms as the remains of the winter cold pebbled his skin. Callum held himself back before he swept the witch against him to warm him back up. “Your bedroom is restored.”

“Thanks,” Rowan replied, shuffling his feet.

Callum swallowed, unsure what else to say. So, he swept his arms towards the stairs, bowing his head. Rowan didn’t move. He took a deep breath, staring at the talisman still glowing in his palm. “Does it work?”

“Yeah. Dad’s magic was more powerful than I thought.”

“I’ll still fix it for you. I’m sure Finn and I will-”

“It”s fine. I mean it this time.” Rowan traced the sigil with his thumb. “I think my parents” spell did what it was supposed to do. And I think it”s time I listened.” He raised his gaze to Callum. “Thank you for taking care of Aster. It means more than you know.”

“Your sisters are as special to me as they are to you. I would lay down my life for them.”

“I know but it didn’t really hit me until now,” He shook his head. “And it never occurred to me that you and Aster would talk about your…”

“Suffering.” The word was sharp, a bitter shard he had chewed for decades. But Rowan’s gentle blue eyes eased the sting. He gestured to the stairs again. “To bed with you, Witch boy. I’ve put you through enough-”

“Who’s Orlaith?”

Callum’s stomach fell to his hooves. He rubbed his throat, hoping to dislodge the rock that somehow wedged itself there. “She… she was my mate.”

Rowan folded his arms tight across his chest. “You never mentioned her before.”

“I never told you of Orlaith because…” His chest knotted, making it hard to breathe. “...That failing is the most painful of all. And I don’t think you’d understand or even want to be near me after you hear the truth.”

Callum waited for his scorn and shame, but Rowan set his jaw, contemplating. “You know my mom and dad died in a car crash, right?”

“Ivy told me,” Callum replied.

Rowan sucked in his cheeks. “But did she tell you I was the one driving?”

Callum sobered as every inch of him turned cold. “You were in the vehicle?”

Rowan nodded. “I was only nineteen. They were going a wedding in Los Angeles, and I had just gotten my license, so I wanted to drive them. I said the practice would be good for me and I was so excited to try out the twisty roads.” He released a mirthless chuckle. “And I did not let that go. I bugged them bugged them until they finally agreed. The roads were icy that day and me, being a new driver…” He shuddered but his voice remained steady as a rock. “I lost control, and we crashed through the embankment and down the side of the mountain. When I came to, the car was flipped and the fucking dashboard was wrapped around my leg… And my parents were dead.” His fingers tightened around his talisman, dousing its light. “They were still belted into their seats, just…hanging there.” He shook his head, sniffing in his emotion. “That’s why my leg hurts in the wintertime. It never healed right.”

“How long have you been keeping this inside?” Callum murmured.

“Long enough. I went to therapy for it. But sometimes I see them like that, when I shut my eyes, when I fall asleep. Pale and bloody and upside down. I wonder a lot what would have happened if they drove themselves, if I didn’t insist that I get behind the wheel.” When he finally looked up, his blue eyes were shrouded with tears. “So, whatever you’re about to tell me, I’ll understand. Trust me.”

Callum’s lower lip trembled. “I’m afraid,” he whispered.

“So am I,” Rowan’ replied. “But it feels kind of cathartic to tell you about it. Maybe it will be for you too.”

His brave, gentle Witch-boy, confessing so much, living with even more. In that moment, Callum had never felt closer to anyone; not Finn, not Orlaith. If he can talk of such things, Callum. So can you. Have courage. Callum nodded to the couch and Rowan obediently sat, waiting with patience. Am I going to do this? Truly?

Their gazes locked, Callum getting lost in that sky of blue. You can do this. He inhaled the pain and settled beside him.“You know of the coven, of the slaughter of my herd. Orlaith… She was our chieftain, and I was her lead warrior. She was strong and brave and always believed in the best of everyone. So, when the coven arrived, saying they came in peace, she believed them. We all did. We had no grievance with witches.”

He clutched his horns, shutting his eyes tight. Gods help him he could still feel her blood on his flesh, still hear the cries of his herd. Rowan slid a hand on his knee, and the voices quieted.

“The coven leader was a silver haired witch named Arabella.” He continued. “She was charming and beautiful. Said she wanted to negotiate terms of their arrival. Their coven. Our herd. We’d work in tandem. Harmony. Witch and satyr in a friendly partnership.” Crimson swirled in his mind. Blood. It washed over him in a steaming haze, and he grasped Rowan’s hand like a lifeline. “Arabella beheaded Orlaith before she even gave greetings. And I was not fast enough to stop them. The slaughtered my kin, created beasts we called the hunger, the very one Aster was cursed into, to destroy us all.”

Rowan said nothing, only laced his fingers with Callum’s, their palms pressed tight, grounding Callum in his storm of grief.

“Soon only Finn and I remained, and I’d be damned if that bitch touched my baby brother. Finn was younger than I, still relied on me for protection. And I did. I kept him safe with my very soul. I even begged Thaddeus—the warlock who once owned this house—for sanctuary, which he gave, despite being a pompous lout. I sent word to our Queen in the fae realm. Surely, she would have come for us. She was our Queen!” Callum shook his head, eyes burning. “I don’t know what hurt more, the torture I endured, or her abandonment.”

His heart pounded, tremors seizing him. “They stormed Thaddeus’s home, took Finn first but I begged them to spare him and take me instead. Arabella took all three of us. They built altars to sacrifice us on. But it wouldn’t be simple. Oh no. They didn’t thirst for blood. They thirsted for fear. Pain. Anguish.” He looked at the scars that crisscrossed his arms and swirled upon his chest, still feeling the knife as fresh as it was the day it happened. “And I was the first to be sliced to pieces.”

“Callum…” Rowan choked.

Callum lifted Rowan’s hand to his lips, the touch his anchor “Arabella made me say Orlaith’s name as she cut be apart.” Such delicious anguish from such a strong male. Tears poured from his eyes, hot sticky and shameful. He buried his face into his hands. “Orlaith! I let her die! I let them all die! If I had acted faster! I should have fought! Should have broken that coven, but they broke me!” His ears flattened to his skull to drown out the terrible din of that night.

Rowan took his chin forcing him to meet his gaze. “Look at me Callum.” His voice was unlike anything he heard from him before; strong and unyielding, unable to deny. Callum lifted his eyes to Rowan, his form haloed through his tears. “It”s not your fault. Say it.”

“It is.”

“No. What goes for Aster goes for you to now say it.”

Callum’s voice was weak, the words ragged and breathy. “It”s…it’s not my fault.”

Rowan’s tender smile wrinkled his nose and the wailing in Callum’s mind dulled. “You’re here, you’re strong, and you’re tough. And you deserve to be here. Say it again.”

A twinkle of strength fluttered in his heart as he gazed upon Rowan’s beautiful mouth. “It’s not my fault.” Gods, he almost believed it that time.

“Again,” Rowan commanded. “I’ll say it with you, okay?”

Their voices rose together. “It’s not my fault.” An amber of fury ignited inside Callum, growing brighter, burning hotter. All those years of guilt and grief. “It’s not my fault.” The words rolled from his lips now, strong, and sure. Their cries turned to manic laughter, shaking sorrow from their eyes in rivers and pulling the breath from his lungs. He believed it now, believed every damn word that poured from his mouth. “It”s not my fault. I did what I could. I did all I could and saved who I could! It”s not my fault!” Callum grasped Rowan’s shoulders, hissing through his fangs. “It”s. Not. My. Fault.” He threw his head back shouting until the chandelier shook, until his throat went raw. “It”s not my fault!”

“Sweet Brigid! Are you all right down there?!” Ivy cried from the top of the stairs.

Rowan pulled Callum against him, cradling his head on his shoulder. “We’re fine. Just having some Therapy time, Ives.”

There was a beat before Ivy replied. “As long as you’re all right. Just make sure not to wake Aster up, okay?” Her footfalls faded away, leaving them alone.

“I think we’re done screaming for now.” Rowan lifted Callum’s long ear, whispering softly into it, “But we can go outside if you need to keep going.”

Callum shook his head. The pain had numbed. It wasn’t gone but by the Goddess, it was a tolerable ache after shouting those words. Peace. Stillness. Here he was safe. Wounds that were once raw were soothed by Rowan’s smile. Accepted by his kindhearted Witch-boy. Callum inhaled his clean scent, squeezing him tighter.

“You should get some rest, Big Guy. Rowan reached around Callum’s shoulders before pulling away to reveal that he’d tied his talisman around his neck. “You’re going to be okay tonight.”

Callum stared at the cracked pendant; its sigil now dimmed. “I can’t take this.”

“Yeah, you can. I don’t need it anymore. It gave me what it was supposed to.” He smoothed Callum’s hair back “And I have my answer.” Callum held his breath as Rowan shrugged his freckle spattered shoulders. “Broderick and I talked. He thinks I should give us a chance and… I agreed.”

Callum’s tail hit the couch with a loud thwap. Rowan flinched then cackled, snatching it before it went rogue. “You wish me to continue wooing you?”

“Only if you tone it down a bit. Let”s just hang out. Spend some time together… Maybe fuck occasionally?” Rowan pinkened at his suggestion. “Let’s see where it goes.”

Callum wet his lips, still not daring to hope. “This is an agreement to be wooed.” Rowan nodded again. “A definite yes.”

“It”s a yes,” Rowan held out his hands. “Not for mates, okay? We’re going slow. And after Yule we’ll reevaluate and-”

Callum yanked Rowan into his arms and kissed him. Rowan clung to Callum, his tongue slipping into his mouth, deepening their building connection. He tasted pure and honied, like the sweetest mead to ever touch his lips. Callum kissed him until his toes curled. Kissed him until they shared breath. Kissed him until time stopped. The word swam circles in his brain. Yes. He said yes! Didn’t you hear the Witch-boy? He said yes! It was ages until Callum released him and time well spent.

Rowan gasped, sweat dotting his forehead. “Woah.”

“Sleep Witch-boy,” Callum, nipped his lower lip “And prepare for something tremendous.”

“Not sure if that’s a threat or not after what happened tonight.”

Another kiss sent the witch sprawling onto the couch. He could scent the witch’s arousal, feel his hardening shaft against his hip. If Callum could, he’d strip Rowan and take him right there. But such a grand overture would scare him away and Callum would not squander this opportunity.

Callum reluctantly pulled away, giving one last peck on the tip of Rowan’s nose. “Until tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it!” Rowan called after him, his voice breaking.

Callum bounded up the stairs to prepare his wing. Everything going forward had to perfect. His sweet witch-boy had opened the door for Callum to slide a hoof in and he would guard it with his life. For nothing would lock it away from him again.