Page 2 of The Witch’s Shifter (Season of the Witch #3)

Aurora

FOR A MOMENT, ALL IS silent. I’m holding my breath, and Harrison has ceased his hissing and low growling. The wolf lies crumpled in the leaves, its black fur tangled with twigs.

“We need to leave,” Harrison says.

Still gripping my basket, I take a tentative step toward the beast.

“ Aurora! ”

“It’s okay,” I whisper, holding my hand out to Harrison. He’s so puffed up that he looks twice his size. “It’s hurt. It needs help.”

Harrison growls deep in his throat, but he doesn’t abandon me, choosing instead to hunch low in the crinkly autumn grass.

A few more steps, and now I can see that the wolf has deep gashes down its shoulder.

It’s a bit difficult to tell from this distance, especially given the shadows, but I think there are more wounds on its chest and throat.

What could’ve caused such damage, especially to such a monstrous creature?

The thought makes me cast my gaze about the dark forest, but I see nothing moving amongst the trees, and Harrison hasn’t alerted to me anything else’s presence.

A shuffle of leaves makes me jump back from the wolf with a gasp.

And as I watch, the wolf’s body begins to move.

Its long snout shrinks, and its black hair retracts, leaving rich brown skin behind.

The paws and claws transform into clenched hands.

Its legs contort and shift, as does its spine.

And as I blink, the creature undergoes a full metamorphosis.

Now, lying in the leaves, naked and unconscious, is a man.

His skin is mottled with dirt and blood, his long black hair hanging over his broad shoulders like a veil. As I stare at him, his ribs expand with a shallow breath, and he lets it out in a strained grunt. Still, his eyes don’t open.

I look back at Harrison, who’s peeking over a tall clump of grass, green eyes narrowed.

“What is it?” Harrison asks.

My gaze flicks back to the man. “I think he’s... a shapeshifter.”

I learned about them at Coven Crest Academy, a school for witches and warlocks.

Our professor invited a shifter in for a demonstration, and I’ll never forget the way the woman moved, the sound of her bones rearranging themselves beneath her skin.

It still makes my stomach turn. If it were earlier in my pregnancy, I might’ve lost my breakfast onto the forest floor at the very thought of that memory.

Though fear still lingers inside me, I’m less hesitant now as I step toward the man. Kneeling in the leaves a few strides from him, I whisper, “Sir, are you all right?”

He makes no indication of having heard me. His face, partially obscured by his long black hair, is creased into an expression of pain, of suffering.

It makes me hurt for him.

The wounds on his shoulder, chest, and neck are more easily distinguishable now that there’s no black fur hiding them from view. The one on his chest has reopened, and fresh blood patters into the bed of leaves he lies upon.

“Hello?” I say, a bit louder this time.

No response.

Though Harrison hisses behind me, I still reach out to touch the man on the shoulder. His skin is burning hot beneath my fingertips.

“I think he has a fever,” I say. “I need to get him back to the cottage.”

“ What? Aurora, you don’t know this... thing.” Harrison’s tone is sharp, edged with fear. “We should leave now, before it wakes up.”

“He needs help.” I look over my shoulder and meet Harrison’s green eyes. “Wouldn’t you want someone to help if you were injured? Or if I was?”

He doesn’t say anything to that, just pins his ears back on his head and gives me a disgruntled look.

“I can’t carry him by myself. I need Alden or Rowan. Will you fetch them for me?”

“And leave you here?” Harrison sounds horrified at the prospect.

“I’ll be fine . Look, he’s not waking up anytime soon.” To prove my point, I put my hand over the man’s clenched fist and jostle it slightly, careful not to disturb any of his wounds. Yet again, he makes no outward sign of hearing or feeling me. “He’s out cold.”

“If he wakes up—”

“He won’t be able to do much of anything. Look at that wound on his chest. He can barely move. Please, Harrison?”

His eyes glare back into mine. I know he hates the idea of leaving me here, but I need Alden or Rowan if I want to have any chance of helping this injured man.

There’s no way I’m just leaving him out here, especially given how cold our nights are getting as we inch closer to winter with every passing day.

“Please?” I whisper again.

Finally, Harrison takes a step out of the tall grass. His hair is still puffed up. “ Don’t touch it again, and stay a few paces back.”

Nodding, I move out of reach of the man. Harrison seems comforted—if only somewhat—by the distance between us.

“I’ll be back,” he says, and then he dives into the forest and quickly disappears from my sight. The rustling of leaves caused by his passing fades slowly.

With Harrison gone, the forest grows quiet. I turn my gaze back to the man. He looks pained even in sleep, and a sheen of sweat is starting to glisten on his brow.

What happened to you? I wonder.

A cool breeze sweeps through the forest, stirring the leaves upon the forest floor. Some land atop the man, as if the forest is already trying to reclaim him.

Not yet. Not if I have anything to say about it.

“Harrison, please hurry,” I whisper, then take a seat on a fallen tree to wait for someone to arrive.