Page 28 of The Witch’s Shifter (Season of the Witch #3)

Rowan

SELENE SILVERMOON IS A JOY. She laughs freely and often, and Harrison spends the entirety of dinner perched upon her lap. His presence doesn’t seem to bother her in the least, and she strokes his silky hair with one hand while lifting spoonfuls of Alden’s potato soup to her mouth with the other.

This afternoon when we got back to the cottage and he told me he was going to try his hand at making dinner, I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.

Thankfully, Aurora’s cookbook was right there on one of the shelves in the kitchen, and somehow, Alden really pulled it off.

The soup is creamy, with big chunks of carrot and potato, and the hint of nutmeg leaves a sweet aftertaste curling across my tongue.

I could easily polish off another couple of bowls if I wasn’t trying to save some for Aurora’s family.

Selene is easy to talk to, and I can see clearly why she and Aurora are so close. They chat and laugh and seem to have a language all their own. It’s warming to see. I’m so glad they came to visit. I think Aurora has needed this; it’s been a bit of a crazy year.

Evelyn Silvermoon, though, is a different story.

She doesn’t speak much, and when she does, it’s often to deliver short remarks or irritable sighs.

And I know now what Aurora meant when she told me and Alden in the pumpkin patch this past summer that her mother is disappointed in her.

I can’t even begin to understand what’s going through Evelyn’s head, but I see the storm clouds of emotion in her eyes, the twitches of her sharp eyebrows like lightning bolts striking the earth.

And I know Aurora is trying hard not to let it bother her.

Alden and I exchange a look across the table, and I’m pretty sure he’s thinking the same thing I am.

What’s Evelyn’s problem? Perhaps I can spend some time with her this week and try to get to the root of her obvious discomfort around Aurora—and this cottage.

She looks around as if the walls are going to open up and swallow her at any minute, or like they’ve done something to offend her and now need a sharp rebuke.

It’s strange, to say the least. Something is certainly going on here, and I plan to figure it out. Given Evelyn’s reaction to me when we met at the wagon stop, I think I might just be able to charm her into opening up to me.

Faolan doesn’t show up during dinner, nor in the moments afterward, while we’re cleaning and chatting, firelight flickering through the cottage.

Alden spoke to him this afternoon when we returned from meeting Aurora’s family, and the next thing I knew, he’d vanished, leaving behind a trail of clothes and his new pair of boots.

Is he out in the tree line right now, watching us through the windows? What is he so afraid of? I know his absence is on Aurora’s mind; she keeps glancing at the windows and doorways as if hoping he’s going to suddenly appear, but the wolf doesn’t show.

Not that I’m complaining. I don’t mind it one bit.

It’s Aurora I’m concerned about. It’s always Aurora.

She’s wiping the kitchen table down while Selene and Evelyn get their cloaks on, and I watch Aurora’s movements, noting her wince as she leans a bit too far, then put a hand on her low back.

“I’ll get that,” I tell her, stepping to her side.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” she says, but she offers no resistance as I gently take the cloth from her hand.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Let us take some of the burden for now.”

When she looks up at me, her eyes are a bit glassy, but with a nod, she banishes the tears quickly. “Thank you, Sir Rowan.”

I smile. “Anything for you, my queen.”

Aurora departs the kitchen, and I finish cleaning up as the women’s voices drift in from the foyer. They’re getting ready to leave.

“Rowan,” Alden says, and I turn to find him standing in the doorway. He’s got his cloak and boots on. “I’m going to walk them back into the village, and I’ll stay at my cabin for the night, just in case...”

Just in case Faolan shows up and needs a place to sleep.

I sigh. We really need to figure out a new sleeping arrangement. Now that the shifter is here, Alden and I have started taking turns sleeping at the cottage, and every night I spend away from Aurora is riddled with anxiety and fear.

I often lie in my bed in the guardhouse—which is now perpetually cold from the drafts that slip through the stones—staring at the silver moonlight streaking through the one small window in my room, wondering if she’s feeling okay, if her back is hurting, if she needs a cup of tea or a foot rub to help her drift off into dreams. It gives me comfort to know that Alden is with her, but it’s been excruciating having to leave her there, knowing a shifter is perched on the couch downstairs.

I grind my teeth, and Alden lifts a brow at me knowingly.

“Okay,” I say, trying to banish my frustrations. Alden doesn’t seem nearly so uncomfortable with the wolf about. “Good night, then.”

He nods once, then departs the kitchen. I dry my hands on a rag, then join the group in the foyer. The ladies are ready to go, and Selene is giving Aurora a big hug.

“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” she says as she pulls away. Kneeling, she scratches Harrison under the chin, then pushes her long silver hair over her shoulder and rights herself. “It’ll be such fun, all of us going to the harvest festival together.”

The village has been preparing for the festival all week.

A few villagers even put me to work helping move strawbales and scarecrows and setting up booths for vendors to use; it’s been quiet around Faunwood as of late, and with nothing else to do, I was pleased to be of assistance.

And I’ve really been looking forward to the celebration.

Drinks, good food, and music—what’s not to love, especially when Aurora will be there with me?

Selene turns to me, and I hold my arms out. Smiling, she steps into my embrace, and Aurora seems pleased as I look at her over Selene’s shoulder.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” I say as Selene eases out of my grasp. Then my gaze shifts to Evelyn. “And you as well, Lady Silvermoon.”

She gives me a small smile, and when I reach for her hand, she allows me to press a kiss to the backs of her gloved fingers.

If I want to find out more about the tension between her and Aurora, I figure I need to butter her up as much as possible. So far, it seems to be working.

After final parting words, Alden opens the door, letting a gust of autumn air in. The cool breeze ruffles Harrison’s silky hair, and he makes a hasty dash into the parlor, probably to curl up in front of the fire.

Aurora says more goodbyes and good nights until the door finally clicks closed, leaving the two of us standing in the foyer alone.

And as quiet descends, so do her shoulders. She slumps a little bit, and when her eyes meet mine, some of the glittering goes from them.

“What’s wrong, my queen?” I ask, pulling her into a gentle hug.

She curls her fingers into the fabric of my tunic and wiggles closer, her cheek pressed against my chest. “Faolan’s gone. I thought he’d come home for dinner, but...”

I thought it was her mother who had upset her, and I actively try not to tense at her use of the word home . She’s already upset, and I don’t want to make it any worse. But does she already consider this his home?

“He was here this afternoon when Alden and I got home. Alden talked to him.” My fingertips brush up and down Aurora’s back softly.

Perhaps I’ll offer her a back massage tonight.

I know the pregnancy is making her achy.

“I think he just needed a bit of alone time. He’ll come around. He is your mate, after all.”

She tips her head back to look at me, and my quip seems to have worked, because her frown has shifted into a little sideways smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Bending, I place a kiss to her forehead.

“Now come on, Your Majesty. It’s time for you to rest.” Slipping one arm behind her back and the other behind her knees, I lift her into my arms. She’s a bit heavier now than she was when I first captured her in the woods and made love to her against a tree, and I relish the feel of her weight in my arms, solid and warm and alive.

I suppose my child is in my arms right now as well. But that realization causes a curl of anxiety to twist through my gut, so I ease the thought away as I start up the creaking staircase. Tonight is not a night for fears and worries.

When I carry Aurora into the bedroom, I discover it is dark and cold—seems none of us thought to start the fire early this evening, we were so distracted with having Aurora’s family over.

Aurora giggles lightly as I set her carefully upon the bed.

I can feel her eyes on me as I walk across the room and kneel before the hearth.

After I add a few pieces of wood—which Alden has been chopping for us this fall—and get the flame lit, I sit back to enjoy the heat of the fire on my face.

No winter is ever too dark or too cold so long as you’ve got a companionable fire to sit beside.

Pushing to my feet, I turn to face Aurora.

She’s leaning back against the headboard, legs pulled into her chest, chin perched atop her knee. Her gaze is trained toward the window, though all I can see is a slight outline of the forest against the darkening sky.

“Are you still thinking of Faolan?” I ask as I move across the room and take a seat on the bed.

Her eyes flick to me, and she gives me a shy smile. “I guess so. At least his wounds are mostly healed now. Hopefully he’ll be all right out there. It’s getting so cold...”

“I think he’s just fine,” I assure her. He is a shifter , I think but don’t say aloud. My gaze slides down to Aurora’s bare feet, where they poke out from the skirt of her dress, and I get an idea. “How about a bit of distraction?”

Her expression turns curious. “What do you have in mind?”