Page 73 of Twisting Twilight (Homesteader Hearth Witch #9)

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

“The lumbersnack’s back!”

Arthur grunted when the garden gnome slammed into his arm, hugging it with her whole body. Sawyer was on him next, nuzzling into his tangled hair. Daphne and Shari joined the embrace, then the whole forest came alive with a joyful chorus of howls and roars.

From the coven, Aunt Peony cheered and the menfolk let out a large whoop.

“C’mon,” Sawyer urged Thistle. “He gives good cuddles too.”

“But he’s a skinchanger.”

“And you’re a fairy cat. So? I’m telling you, his spine scritches are the best.”

“Traitor,” I told him down the bond.

He winked. “You’ll get over it.”

Thistle manifested her wings with their classic pop! and flapped to Arthur’s shoulder. She tentatively lowered her head and rubbed her cheek against the back of Arthur’s skull. He dutifully lifted a hand and kneaded down her spine.

“Ooo,” the faelene purred, melting against him. “That’s niiiice.”

With a laugh, Arthur rocked back on his heels and shed all the well-wishers.

His hands swallowed mine, and he pulled me upright in one fluid motion.

Suddenly there was no breath left in my lungs as his arms crushed me against his chest. The smell of old-growth forest, of sunlight and honey, of him brought mist to my eyes.

My hands clamped down hard into his back and I pressed my cheek against the tattoo over his heart. Its pulse was strong and healthy.

“Kept me waiting, sweetheart,” he murmured into my hair.

My own heart swelled. “You’re always so patient, I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

That earned me a little nip against my neck, eliciting a tiny squeak in response. My joy was overridden by another emotion all together as heat flooded down from that little bite all the way into my toes.

“Granddaughter.” My grandmother’s voice cut through the din like crack of a whip.

Alarm feathered its fingers along my spine, making me lurch upright away from its touch. She only ever called me that in mixed company. Or if I was in serious trouble.

“What now?” Sawyer growled. “Can’t we have just one sec— Oh .”

Leaning out to the side, I peered beyond Arthur’s muscled arm and found a high fae host had gathered on the southern side of the clearing.

Callan and Shannon, resplendent in platinum armor, gazed at the silver elm tree in wonder.

I chanced a glance over my shoulder—the woven bands of the Celtic shield pendant had thinned to hairs and stretched over the entire trunk, the iron fused into the bark.

If Ossian had been fae now, I would’ve challenged him to touch the tree just to see what would happen.

“My lady,” I greeted Shannon, catching her attention. Arthur protested with a surprised grunt as I pushed him behind me. Protection wasn’t only his job. “High lord,” I included Callan politely. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“ Someone insisted on accompanying me but refused to do so without an excess of reinforcements.” Shannon threw her husband an irritated look, which Callan ignored.

“How did you get here? I locked the portal.”

“Yes, I noticed. We took the Old Paths.”

There had to be a hawthorn tree nearby, its twin in Elfame. I made a mental note to address that sooner rather than later, either with a crystal barrier, some wards, or an axe. The days of fae coming into this realm and meddling as they wished, for good or for evil, needed to come to a close.

“Is High Lady Briony with you?” I scanned the fae host, recognizing Fionn and a few other faces.

“She, the junior scholar, and that draig returned to the Green Court,” Callan answered. “But she left her bullfinch as emissary in my court, saying you two have much to discuss in the future.”

Shannon thumped the end of her bow against the dirt, redirecting the conversation. “I take it by these celebrations—congratulations on your renewed acushla bond, by the way—that our enemy has been dealt with. So where is he? We had a bargain, friend.”

Flora pointed to the force field that contained the enormous stag. “Keep many deer imprisoned by crystal barriers in Elfame, do you?”

Callan glared at her tone.

With no never mind to the assembled shifters and witches, Shannon surged forward to inspect the stag. “Is this truly Ossian? What did you do to him?”

“I merely let his brother’s curse run its course.” Squeezing Arthur’s hand, I made to leave his side and join Shannon. He interlaced his fingers in mine—firmly—and came with me.

“This isn’t what I had in mind,” the high lady hissed down to me. Her gaze flickered over the tall shifter next to me before she wrinkled her nose. Then she gave me a very humanlike nudge with her elbow. “I wanted satisfaction, Meadow. You know this.”

“And you’ll have it. I turned Ossian into a stag in body only,” I revealed, and the high lady’s eyebrows took flight. “His mind is very much his own.” My hard gaze turned to the stag.

Ossian paced within his enclosure, gouging the dirt beneath his hooves. Breath blasted from his nostrils in jets of crystallized steam. His antlers tore at the air as he reared in challenge.

“I want you to feel fear, Ossian. Terror.” A wind lifted with my words, echoing them to the furthest reaches of the forest like a death knell.

“To feel the helplessness of the women you trapped and drained. I want you to suffer, Ossian, as you have made others suffer. And I want you to know, Stag Man, every minute of every day as you wonder if this hunter’s arrow might finally be the one to find its mark, that I could’ve gifted you a quick death. And chose not to.”

I lifted my hand, fingers flaring wide, and the crystals of Flora’s barrier scattered. My ivy-green glare pierced into his soul. “ Run .”

The stag slashed the air between us with his antlers and released an infuriated, defiant bugle. Then he spun on his rear hooves and charged into the night.

“He flees!” Shannon surged forward, but I caught her wrist.

There was no polite way to stuff your hand into your bra to extract something you’d squirreled away in there, but I tried my best. The high lady’s eyes narrowed at the monocle of selenite and tiger’s-eye. “I’m going to give this to you, but I want it back when you’re done. Swear it.”

We did, a puff of air blowing gently upon our faces.

I dropped the monocle into her palm. “This is the Hunting Spell. With it, you can track anyone anytime. It is impervious to magical inference. Simply say your target’s name, raise the monocle to your eye, and follow the golden thread.”

A savage smile spread slowly across the high lady’s lips. Another puff of air—our first bargain fulfilled.

“With such an advantage,” I explained, “it only seemed fair to give him a head start.”

“Quiver, Arrow!” From the fae host, the high lady’s fairy hounds quickly extracted themselves and joined their mistress’s side.

“His blood does not belong to her alone.” Sionnach, Arthur’s auntie, strode up to us with her hands on her hips.

She wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by her nudity—none of the shifters were.

She swept a hand over a scar above her left breast. There was another one on her arm.

“I will take my pound of flesh from the Criminal.”

“Then we are united in cause,” Shannon replied, testing the strength of her bowstring. It made a satisfying twang . “Come, sister hunter, and let us convince him of his mortality.”

The shifter grinned, stole a moment to hug her bear shifter nephew, then shed her human skin for a fox one.

Shannon raised a hand up to her husband in farewell. “Don’t wait up for me, acushla. I’ll be back eventually.”

The two raced off into the night, the fairy hounds hot on their mistress’s heels. A few other shifters broke off the Coalition pack to join them, their frenzied yips and howls echoing long after they’d disappeared. The forest was quiet again. For a moment.

“Well I could use a bath,” Flora announced to no one in particular. “And some dinner. You think Patty’s is open?”

She gave me a knowing wink: if she extended me an invitation to join them, she knew I would just decline it. For very good reasons she heartily approved of and would demand details about later over Midori-pineapple cocktails and takeout from Happy Garden.

“If not, we’ve got all that beef in the freezer from Alder Ranch.” Daphne shot Lewellyn a pointed look. “How ’bout it, wolf? Still like your meat rare?”

“And squealing,” he answered, pulling the druidess into his arms.

“I want to find Charlie,” Shari said.

With a few brisk steps, she approached Ame, crouched, and hoisted the cat into her arms. The caliby was as boneless as a rag doll as she was draped over Shari’s shoulder.

Her judgmental yellow eyes slitted with contentment, a purr rumbling from her chest. The lynx who had accompanied her remained close by, the two communicating in a series of trills and chirps.

It seemed like Ame was introducing her human to the lynx.

“We’ll pick up Loverboy and then fire up the grill,” Lewellyn assured Shari, slinging his arm around Daphne’s shoulders.

“That lynx can come too, if she wants. Bro,” he called to his younger brother, “bring your mate for family meal when you’re done wrapping up.

” He eyed the clearing at large. “We good here?”

There was a pregnant pause where the remaining fae, the Coalition, and the coven eyed each other warily.

“Yes,” Arthur and I answered together. He chuckled and I grinned.

He spun me towards him, capturing my chin between thumb and forefinger and lifting my face to his. “You deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine and we’ll meet back in ten minutes.”

At the promises conveyed in those hazel eyes, my heart tolled like a long-dormant bell finally struck. The reverberations made my skin tingle with anticipation. “Make it five.”

“Five it is, sweetheart.”