Page 16 of The Witch's Shifter
With a grunt, I settle the boards onto the ground beneath the shattered window. I already cleaned up the shards of glass, plucking the smaller pieces carefully from where they shimmered in the grass, and inside, Aurora is sweeping up in the parlor. She looks up at me, and the red tint of her eyes makes my chest ache. These past few days, she committed everything shehad to caring for Faolan, and now he’s gone, having left a mess in his wake.
I offer Aurora a smile, but the one she gives me back doesn’t quite touch her eyes. Then she leaves the room, and I let out a sigh.
A short while later, after I’ve lit a lantern to illuminate the window frame and have my tool belt slung around my waist, the front door opens, and Rowan steps out. He clasps his cloak about his neck as he descends the stairs, then comes to stand beside me.
Without speaking, we pick up a long plank of wood, working together to get it into place so I can drive nails through the board to hold it over the window. For a while, we work together in companionable silence.
Over these past few months, we’ve come to accept each other, to respect each other. Having him around is comfortable now, unlike this past summer when he first came to the cottage. It’s laughable, remembering or first strained conversation over cups of hot mint tea.
When we’re holding the third board, Rowan finally lets out a sigh.
“I’m sorry, Alden.” His voice is low, defeated. It’s the first time I’ve heard his tone return to normal since we picked Faolan up in the woods.
“For what? And hold it a bit higher.”
Rowan adjusts the board, and I pound a few nails through it, securing it over the gaping window.
“I think...” He runs a hand through his hair. “I think this was my fault.”
Crossing my arms, hammer still in hand, I turn to face him. He’s not meeting my eyes, choosing instead to stare off into the darkness of the woods. As the breeze swirls around us, his red hair drifts across his cheek.
He’s probably right. Faolan was already on edge, and then Rowan had to go and rub it in his face thathe’sthe one who got Aurora pregnant.
Even I still feel a tinge of envy at that, and I’m not a half beast, half man with impulse-control issues.
“Why’d you antagonize him like that?” I ask.
In the light of the lantern, Rowan’s jaw flexes. Then he sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I felt... protective. Defensive. How can Aurora be hismate? Is that even possible?”
This time when he turns to look at me, I see the hurt in his eyes.
That’s right—he hasn’t been through this yet. But I have. Withhim.
Somehow, I wasn’t all that surprised when Faolan revealed that Aurora is his mate. There’s something about her, something magical and powerful and so enticing that it’s impossible to resist the desire to be around her. I felt it when I first met her, and I know Rowan did too. That’s why we agreed to this whole thing in the first place. Since the summer, things have become... well,normal. But now Faolan has upset the balance once more.
“Don’t know,” I say, shrugging and uncrossing my arms so we can pick up another board. “I’m not the right one to ask about shifters. He’s the first one I’ve met.”
We heft the board up, and I reach high above my head to pound a nail through it, then add another one to the bottom. The paint around the window will likely need touched up after this.
Add it to my list.
“I was foolish,” Rowan says, slumping against the side of the cottage and crossing his arms. “He could’ve hurt her, and it would’ve been my fault for provoking him.” A dark look comes over his eyes. “I never would’ve forgiven myself for that.”
“Have you talked to her?” I ask.
“Not yet. She didn’t look too pleased with me.” His gaze goes to the small gap left in the window, but Aurora still hasn’t returned to the parlor. Maybe she’s in the kitchen making tea or is upstairs getting ready for bed. She’s been sleeping more since getting pregnant—I suppose that’s a good thing though. We all know sleep will be difficult after the baby arrives.
I still have to build that cradle too, but I figure I have a few months until that becomes a priority.
“Come on.” I gesture to the last two planks, and we get them up and over the remaining gap in the window. Once they’re secure, we both step back to take a look.
It’s not pretty, but it’ll do for now. At least it won’t let any wind or rain in, and if we’re lucky, snow won’t hit until sometime around Samhain.
“Thank you,” Rowan says.
“Fixing a window is easy.” I slip my hammer into my tool belt and pick up the lantern, sending the flickering light dancing all about. “I don’t envy the fixing you still need to do.” I clap him on the shoulder and let out a light chuckle as I head for the front door. “I don’t envy you at all.”
Chapter 12
