Page 22 of The Witch’s Shifter (Season of the Witch #3)

Aurora

THE SUN HAS JUST STARTED sinking behind the trees, casting the cottage into a mix of golden light and purple shadow.

I’m seated in the parlor, knitting another tiny pair of socks for the baby, and Faolan is asleep on the couch, breath steady and deep.

Harrison is lying in front of the fire, green eyes narrowed at Faolan’s prone form.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, keeping my voice down so as not to wake Faolan. I know he has impeccable hearing, but so does Harrison, so he hears even my quiet whisper.

Standing from his spot before the flames, Harrison arches his back into a big stretch and then walks toward me, and I place my knitting into a basket beside the chair so that he can jump into my lap.

“I don’t like him,” he says as I stroke the silky hair behind his ear.

“I know, and I’m sorry for all the changes we’ve gone through this year.”

I think back to our first day in this cottage, to sleeping on the kitchen floor before the fire, Harrison tucked under my arm.

He put so much faith in me, and it hurts me to think I may have disappointed him in some way, what with all these men crammed into Brookside with us.

And now, to have a shapeshifting wolf on our couch? It makes me sigh softly.

“Have I let you down?” I whisper.

Harrison blinks up at me, his long white tail swishing across my knees. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Well...” I glance at Faolan, his inky hair draped across his shoulders, then back at Harrison.

“I know you’ve never been a fan of people, and I keep bringing them in, inviting them to stay.

I just... I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pushed out.

This is our home, yours and mine, and I hope I haven’t made you feel unwelcome here. ”

Harrison sits quietly for a moment, then sighs.

“It’s true, I’ve never felt particularly comfortable around humans.

Most of them don’t feel trustworthy. But the ones you’ve brought around.

.. They’re good people. I can see in Alden’s eyes how much he cares for you, and Rowan is clueless but kind—though he does still try to pet me too much. ”

I let out a little giggle, then quickly stifle it when Faolan shifts on the couch. But a moment later, his deep breathing returns, his eyes still gently closed. I’m glad he’s sleeping again. The rest will help speed up his recovery.

“I’ve come to enjoy them,” Harrison continues, “even if I didn’t at first. I should be the one apologizing for making things difficult on you. I don’t want you to shy away from connecting with people just because I don’t like them.” He flicks his gaze toward Faolan. “That would be such a shame.”

A wave of joy washes over me, and I pull Harrison gently into my arms. He settles his chin into the crook of my neck, his purring a lulling rumble in my ear.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I love you so much. You’re my best friend.”

He cuddles closer, tickling my nose with his hair. “And you’re mine.”

We sit like that for a few minutes, listening to the crackle of the fire. Then Harrison’s ears perk up, and he pulls away.

“Is someone here?” I ask. Rowan isn’t home yet, but he should be walking through the door at any moment.

“It sounds like...” Harrison cants his head. “Two sets of footsteps.”

Does that mean . . . ?

Harrison leaps from my lap and trots toward the foyer. I follow after him, heart thumping in my chest as I reach to pull the front door open.

And coming up Brookside Road, a thin wooden box held between them, are Alden and Rowan.

Seeing Alden, with his brown curls windblown and his boots muddy from the road, makes my chest squeeze.

He’s home.

Leaving the door standing open, I hurry down the steps and into the early-evening chill. The earth is cold beneath my bare feet, and the autumn air takes my breath away.

Or maybe that’s just Alden.

I throw my arms around him, making him stumble. He and Rowan fight to steady the box between them.

“Oops. Sorry.” I pull away, feeling foolish. Alden went all the way to Wysteria for that window, and I almost made them drop it.

They carry it the rest of the way to the house, and as soon as the box is leaning safely against the cottage and is out of Alden’s hands, I throw myself at him again.

This time he catches me, arms coming around my waist in a warm embrace.

My bare feet leave the cool earth as Alden spins me in a circle.

Standing a few steps away, Rowan laughs.

I’m so glad the two of them get along so well now, though I’m really not sure how Faolan is going to fit into the mix. But right now, I don’t want to worry about that; all I want to think about is Alden.

“Little witch,” Alden mumbles, setting me back on my feet. “Did you miss me?”

I pull back to look into his brown eyes and place my hands on either side of his face, feeling his beard beneath my fingers.

“So much,” I whisper. Then I pull him in for a kiss.

His lips are soft and warm against mine, and they taste slightly of the autumn air.

“I missed you too,” he says as he breaks our kiss. “And your cooking.”

As if on cue, his stomach grumbles, and he gives me a bashful smile.

“Well, good thing I’ve already got dinner going.” I look between him and Rowan, then wave for them to follow me. “Come on. Get yourselves cleaned up, and dinner will be ready when you’re done.”

We return to the cottage, where Harrison is waiting in the open doorway, tail wrapped around his paws.

“Did you miss me too?” Alden asks as he stoops to offer Harrison his hand.

With a gentle purr, Harrison pushes his head into Alden’s palm.

“Guess that’s a yes?” Alden’s gaze flicks to mine, but I just smile and shrug.

There’s a whisper of fabric as I step into the foyer, and by the time I make it to the parlor doorway, Faolan is already on his feet.

Despite having taken an hour-long nap, his hair is silky and smooth, as if someone just combed it for him.

He’s shirtless and barefoot, still clad only in bandages and Alden’s trousers.

Which reminds me, I need to get into Faunwood and go to the seamstress.

Hopefully I can get Alden a couple more pairs to make up for the one Faolan tore through.

Faolan meets my gaze. His blue eyes are slightly narrowed, and the fire tosses glistening light across his rich brown skin. There’s movement behind me, and a woodsy scent washes over me.

“You’re back,” Alden says, voice lilting in surprise.

That’s right, Alden left the morning after Faolan’s hasty exit. He had no way to know he’d returned.

Faolan’s only response is a curt nod.

There’s definitely more work to be done before all these guys are going to get along.

Alden’s fingers brush my waist, and Faolan’s gaze flicks down to them. At his sides, his fingers curl into fists.

“I’m going to take a bath,” Alden says. “Need to get the road grime off me.”

“Okay.” I turn away from Faolan to smile up at Alden. “I can help with the water.”

“Absolutely not,” Rowan says from the doorway, where he’s just closing the door against the autumn chill. “You’re five months pregnant. I’ll help with the water.”

My cheeks warm as I look between the two of them. “I’ll focus on dinner, then.”

After brushing a quick kiss against Alden’s bearded cheek—and ignoring the grumble from Faolan—I head into the kitchen, where a big pot of carrot soup is bubbling over the fire.

I haven’t baked the bread yet, so I get started on that, transferring the risen dough into the bread pot and then stooping to carefully place it near to the flames, though not in them.

As I rise from the kitchen floor, I start at Faolan’s sudden presence in the doorway.

That’s not the first time he’s snuck up on me, whether intending to or not.

I’m still not used to how quietly he moves, especially for such a big man.

“You startled me,” I say, putting a mitted hand to my chest. He continues to linger as I grab a ladle and give the carrot soup a stir. It smells delicious, like earth and herbs with a slight undertone of sweetness.

After Lydia and James left this afternoon, Faolan helped me chop up the onions and carrots and garlic, though he was slow as a spring snail at it. I could tell cooking wasn’t in his wheelhouse, but he did his best despite that.

Now, though, the easy air with which he moved around me is gone, and it feels like he’s getting ready to sling me over his shoulder and dash away into the woods.

Not that I’d mind, necessarily. As long as he brought me back.

There’s a constant parade of boots through the foyer and up the stairs as Alden and Rowan fetch water from the well for a bath. Rowan comes into the kitchen to grab some hot rocks from the fire to heat the water, and he and Faolan exchange tense looks.

So we’re back to that, I guess.

Getting Rowan and Alden to be friendly with each other was a piece of honey cake compared to this. But I suppose I’d be frustrated too if I were in Faolan’s shoes, finding my mate only to realize he was already with other women.

Imagining any of my men with another woman makes me feel slightly sick. And I do realize how silly that is, considering they’re all sharing me with one another.

Does that make me a hypocrite?

Still, Faolan lingers. It’s starting to look almost comedic, the glower on his face as Alden and Rowan carry water to and fro, chatting and laughing with each other all the while. How out of place he must feel here...

“Can you grab the bowls for me?” I ask, tilting my head toward the shelf above the kitchen counter. “I’m going to grind some herbs for garnish.”

I don’t need Faolan’s help, but at least it’ll give him something to do.

With a grumble, he steps into the kitchen with me and reaches for the bowls on the shelf. He doesn’t flinch at the wound wrapping around his shoulder, so perhaps that means it’s starting to feel better. How I’d love to see his injuries healed up so he doesn’t have to be in pain any longer.

I can’t even imagine verbally fighting with Selene, let alone tearing each other into tattered pieces like Cathal did to Faolan. Maybe it’s a shifter thing, something I don’t understand because I’m not part of their world, but if he were here right now, I’d have a severe conversation with him.

“What is it?” Faolan asks.

His words pull me from my simmering thoughts, and I glance over to find him leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

“What do you mean?” I lift onto my toes to fetch some thyme from a high shelf, and Faolan easily reaches over and brings it down for me. “Thank you.” I toss some of the dried herbs into my mortar, then add basil, rosemary, and a bay leaf.

“Your face,” Faolan says. “You look displeased. And your scent changed.”

A jolt goes through me, and I look up at him slowly, my pestle going still. “You can smell my emotions?”

He gives me a small smile, barely revealing the pointed tips of his fangs, but doesn’t offer any further explanation.

“Well? What’s bothering you?”

Still reeling from that information, I turn back to grinding my herbs into a coarse seasoning to sprinkle onto the soup. Can he smell if I’m lying? I figure it’s best not to even try.

“I was thinking about you... and your brother.” I steal a glance at his bandaged wounds. “It makes me mad, knowing he’d injure you so terribly. My sister would never . I can’t even fathom what that would be like.”

A low rumble vibrates in Faolan’s chest, but it sounds different from his angry grumbles; this one is softer, more contemplative. I’m starting to be able to tell them apart.

“My brother and I have not seen eye to eye for many years. I suppose it had to get worked out eventually.” He glances down at himself, and the movement sends a strand of hair cascading over the front of his shoulder.

It’s so long, it hangs to the middle of his rib cage.

“There’s not often fighting within the pack, despite what people might think.

We know our place, our role within the community.

And I knew mine. But my brother pushed me one too many times, and I’d had enough.

” His shoulders lift as he breathes in, then settle with his sigh.

“I was angry when we fought. It made me foolish, reckless. It’s why he overpowered me. ”

His blue eyes flick up to meet mine, sending heat into my cheeks. Suddenly, I want to kiss him again, to feel his warm hands on my waist. But with the fragile peace between him and Rowan, it’s probably best not to. There will be time for that yet.

“But had I not been banished,” he continues, “I’d not have met you.” Gently, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “So don’t feel pity for me. It happened in the way it was always meant to. If anything, we should be grateful to him.”

“Grateful?” I narrow my eyes, my lips puckering with displeasure.

Faolan smiles. It looks good on him.

The front door closes with a slam, jolting us both.

“Sorry,” Rowan calls out as he starts up the stairs with another bucket. “This should be the last one.”

“Good!” I call back. “Both of you need to make haste. We’re waiting on you!”

Immediately, Faolan tenses up beside me, as if only now remembering the other men in the cottage. I suppose my distraction tactic worked, if even for a short while.

With a gentle breath, I reach out and place a hand upon his chest, avoiding the bandaged area.

“Faolan,” I whisper. Saying his name brings his gaze quickly to mine. “It’s all right. Let’s have a nice dinner together, okay?”

The muscles in his jaw flex beneath his skin, but he gives me a nod. “Okay.”

At least he’s willing to try. At this point, I’m not sure I can hope for much more than that.