Page 18 of The Witch's Shifter
The sun illuminates the steam twirling from our teacups as he traces the grains of wood in the tabletop. He’s still not answered me after a few moments, so I just shake my head and take a sip of tea. As usual, I can’t force him to open up if doesn’t want to. I’ve learned that already.
Rowan’s eyes meet mine again. “I should’ve controlled myself. My anger made everything worse. It was foolish and dangerous, and I’m sorry.”
He extends his hand, offering it to me across the table. Part of me wants to stay mad, but when he’s looking at me like that and being so genuine, how can I? Besides, anger will make you sick inside. It’s best to let it go.
A gentle sigh slips from my lips as I ease my hand into his. “Everything’s a mess. Alden had to go to Wysteria to buy a new window, and now Faolan is missing. He probably injured himself worse jumping through that pane.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about him last night—picturing him out there in the cold, alone and hurt. It makes my stomach twist even now.
Rowan twines his fingers with mine. When I look up into his eyes, I find his brow furrowed with determination.
“I’ll track him down,” he says.
His words don’t register at first. I blink, sure I misheard him. “What? You wanted him gone since we brought him here.”
“I know.” He squeezes my fingers in his. “But I’m going to fix this. I’ll find him, and I’ll bring him back. I’m going to make this right, Aurora.”
I tip my head and narrow my eyes. “Do you even know how to track?”
One of his russet eyebrows quirks at me. “I’m one of the king’s loyal knights. I spent most of my life training to serve him.” When I don’t say anything, he lets out a sigh. “Yes, I can track a monstrous wolf through the forest. I imagine even a page could do that.”
Hearing him talk like this feels good, like we’re moving past the foreign version of Rowan that emerged the day we brought Faolan home.
“Do pages start silly fights as well?” I ask him, voice tinged with just a touch of humor.
“None so silly as the one I provoked.” Fingers still tangled with mine, he gives my hand a gentle tug, and I ease to my feet, then into his lap. Despite being bare chested, he’s warm, and I curl against his shoulder and wrap the quilt around us, my head tucked under his chin.
“You truly think you’ll be able to find him?” I whisper.
Rowan turns his head to press a kiss to my forehead. “With absolute certainty. See there?”
He points, and I follow his finger with my gaze. Out the kitchen window, the sun is illuminating the garden. In the distance, the forest stands tall and dark.
“Keep your eyes on that tree line,” Rowan says. “That’s where I’ll bring him back.”
Chapter 13
Rowan
I SET OFF AFTER BREAKFAST, a pack strapped to my back, weighed down with a plethora of items Aurora thought might be important: clean clothes and a cloak, boots, bandaging materials, a few carefully wrapped meals, a bedroll, and a canteen. She didn’t seem pleased when I attached my scabbard to my side, but Iamgoing after a shifter that I just recently sent into a snarling rage—embarking without my weapon certainly wasn’t going to happen, no matter how determined I am to fix this.
At first, Harrison follows along with me. He’s made himself scarce since we brought Faolan back—not that I can blame him—and I’m glad to have his company. I’ve missed having him around.
“You think this is a good idea?” I ask him.
He glances up at me, and his stare is so powerful, I’m certain he’s trying to communicate something to me. But without Aurora here to interpret, I can only guess at his opinion onthis whole mess. He probably thinks I’m an absolute idiot. That makes two of us.
Once I’ve gone about a mile into the woods, Harrison leaps up onto a boulder and sits down, his gaze on my back as I continue on without him. I lift a hand and wave, and then I’m alone.
Faolan’s track is easy to follow—he fled in a hurry, and given the drops of blood on the leaves and pine needles, he was injured. That’s no surprise, given he was already injuredbeforethrowing himself through a window.
At least I’m not the only one who’s made bad decisions these past few days.
Beneath the trees, the air is cool, but hiking along with the weight of the pack on my back keeps me warm enough that I don’t need to put on my cloak. I do pause to sip from the canteen and ensure I’m still following the right track, and then I’m off again.
I suppose it’ll be some time yet before I get back to my patrol duty. I’m usually stopping in at Lydia’s mercantile around this time of day to share conversation with her and her husband, James. It feels like forever since last I saw them, almost like it was a different life altogether. Weird how stress will do that to you.
Stress and shifters, that is.
