Page 3 of The Witch’s Shifter (Season of the Witch #3)
Alden
ARMS FULL OF OLD PIECES of trim, I clomp down the steps in the Golden Lantern, then out the door and into the autumn sunlight. There’s a light breeze scented with apple and cinnamon from the bakery down the way. I’m tempted to take a break and go buy whatever it is that smells so good.
After tossing the broken scraps of wood into a pile to be later burned, I prop my hands on my hips and tip my head back, letting the cool air dry the sweat on my brow.
The innkeeper, Margaret Bluewren, has hired me to make all sorts of repairs and renovations, and today is trim day.
I’ve got to remove all the old trim first, then replace it with fresh wood before finishing up with a coat of paint.
The trim alone will take me a few days, and then I’ve got to focus on window frame repairs and replacing any wood that’s been water damaged over the years.
She’s got enough on her to-do list to keep me busy all week, if not longer.
I’m just about to head back into the inn when I catch sight of something white in my peripheral vision. Turning, I’m surprised to find a white cat sprinting down Hillock Lane.
Not, not just a white cat. Harrison.
I look around for Aurora, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Harrison isn’t a fan of people, and he never comes into town alone. So, why is he here now?
My stomach drops.
When Harrison reaches me, his fur is puffed up, and he’s panting like he ran the entire way here.
“What is it?” I ask as I drop to one knee. He lets out a string of meows, barely catches his breath, and then starts running back the way he came, pausing once to look over his shoulder at me.
I’ve never wanted so badly to be able to speak cat.
My tool belt will just weigh me down, so I quickly unclip it and sling it into the dirt at the base of the inn’s porch stairs. Mrs. Bluewren is just stepping out the front door as I take my first few steps away from the Golden Lantern.
“Is everything all right?” she asks, a cup of tea steaming in her hands.
“Don’t know!” I call over my shoulder. “Sorry, but I have to go!” Then I leave her standing there with a puzzled expression as I jog after Harrison.
I’m just passing Lydia’s mercantile when the door opens and a gleaming suit of armor steps out onto the street. Rowan has his helmet tucked under one arm, and he’s smiling at something Lydia is saying. Until he sees me.
His expression turns concerned.
“What happened?” he yells.
“I think it’s Aurora!” I yell back, not stopping to talk. But I don’t need to.
There’s a clink of metal as he drops his helmet upon the cobbles, and then he catches up to me easily, matching my stride despite the metal weighing him down.
I’m shocked that he can move that fast in a full suit of armor.
He’s a lot stronger than I’ve probably ever given him credit for. Won’t make that mistake again.
“How can you do that?” I ask, our boots striking the earth as we run side by side. Each of his footsteps is accompanied by a clanging of metal.
He casts me a quick look. “Years of training.”
Harrison is waiting for us near the guardhouse, and as soon as we catch up, he sprints off again. Villagers cast us worried looks as we run by, but we don’t stop to explain.
What could’ve happened to Aurora? Does it have anything to do with the baby?
The child isn’t mine, but somehow, I’ve come to feel a connection to the life growing inside Aurora’s belly, and the thought that something could’ve happened makes my stomach twist.
Stealing a glance at Rowan, I find his forehead furrowed, his green eyes narrowed. He must be wondering the same thing.
Please don’t let it be that , I pray, though I’m not sure to which deity. Any who’ll listen, I suppose. Just let her be okay.
WHEN WE ARRIVE AT THE cottage, Harrison surprises me by veering to the south and past the garden instead of going inside.
I’m breathing hard, and so is Rowan, but neither of us slows down.
We crash through the undergrowth, feet loud in the crinkly dried leaves.
It’s harder to follow Harrison now; he disappears so easily into the brush that I have to stay wholly focused on him as I run.
Finally, I see a flash of pale color through the trees—I remember that Aurora was wearing a cream-colored dress when I left the cottage this morning.
“Aurora!” Rowan calls out, pushing ahead of me. His armor clinks as he runs past, and I finally allow my burning legs to slow.
As I approach, my gaze goes from Aurora, who’s seated upon a log, to a form crumpled in the leaves. Rowan is just seeing it as well, and he immediately steps in front of Aurora, blocking her from what I’m now realizing is a man. A naked man. And he’s not moving.
I’m so shocked by the image, I’m not even sure what to think.
At my feet, Harrison lets out a distressed meow. She must’ve sent him to find us.
“It’s okay,” Aurora says, standing from the log where she was waiting for us. “He’s injured.” She meets my eyes and gestures to the man, who still doesn’t wake.
My and Rowan’s gasping breaths fill the forest. Chest aching, I lean down and brace my hands on my knees. I don’t think I’ve ever run so far so fast in my life.
“We thought you were hurt,” Rowan says, glancing back at Aurora over his gleaming silver shoulder. His voice is sharper than usual.
“No, I’m fine. I’m sorry.” She looks down, fingers worrying at the cotton skirt of her long-sleeved dress.
“I didn’t want to frighten you, but I’m worried about him.
He’s hurt. Look.” She goes to take a step forward, but Rowan holds out an arm.
Immediately, Aurora’s brow creases. “He’s not dangerous. He’s not even conscious.”
“You don’t know who or what he is.”
“He’s a shapeshifter, and he’s—”
“ What? ” Rowan’s mouth turns down grimly. He stands a bit taller. “Don’t you know how unpredictable they are?”
Having finally caught my breath, I stand upright and step to Aurora’s other side. She reaches for my hand, and when our fingers twine together, she lifts her green eyes up toward mine.
“They’re not all like that,” she says as she turns back to Rowan. Her voice is soft. “And he needs my help. Look, he’s got fever sweats, and he’s badly wounded.”
Now that I’m getting a better look at the man, I see the deep wounds on his shoulder, chest, and neck.
Some of them are bleeding, and a small puddle of blood has formed beneath him.
If he were human, he might have succumbed to his injuries by now.
Whatever happened to him, it sure doesn’t look good.
And one glance at Aurora tells me there’s no way she’s leaving him out here.
“What do you want us to do?” I ask. This elicits a sharp look from Rowan, but I ignore him.
“Bring him back to the cottage. We need to get him out of the cold.”
“Absolutely not.” Rowan crosses his arms, gauntlets clinking together. “If he needs a healer, we’ll take him to Niamh.”
“Carrying him all that way will just injure him further,” Aurora says.
She stands a bit taller now, and though she has to look up at Rowan, she shows no sign of backing down.
Not for the first time, I think how magnificent she is, my little green witch.
Leave it to her to save a wild shifter while facing off against one of the king’s knights. It almost makes me laugh.
“You don’t know this man,” Rowan says.
“And neither do you, so you’re in no position to cast judgement. Give him a chance.” Her eyes soften a bit, and she reaches out to place a hand on Rowan’s armored forearm, her other still holding mine tightly. “Please?”
Rowan’s eyes are still narrowed as he looks from Aurora to the man and then up to me. The muscles flex along his clean-shaven jaw. “What do you think?” he asks.
Reaching up, I scratch my beard, then let out a sigh. “I’m not sure we have much choice. We can’t leave him out here.” I glance at Aurora. Her eyes are already starting to light up. “I’ll stay at the cottage with her, make sure nothing happens.”
With a frustrated mumble, Rowan runs a hand through his hair, which is windblown from our sprint here. “If he’s going to be in the house, I’m staying too,” he says.
My gaze flicks to the scabbard at his hip and the sword hilt resting there. I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a knight around when the strange shifter wakes up. Who am I to complain?
“All right.” I lift Aurora’s hand to my mouth and press a kiss to her knuckles, then drop her hand and step toward the prone man. “Let’s get him up.”