Page 40 of The Witch's Shifter
“But had I not been banished,” he continues, “I’d not have met you.” Gently, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “So don’t feel pity for me. It happened in the way it was always meant to. If anything, we should be grateful to him.”
“Grateful?” I narrow my eyes, my lips puckering with displeasure.
Faolan smiles. It looks good on him.
The front door closes with a slam, jolting us both.
“Sorry,” Rowan calls out as he starts up the stairs with another bucket. “This should be the last one.”
“Good!” I call back. “Both of you need to make haste. We’re waiting on you!”
Immediately, Faolan tenses up beside me, as if only now remembering the other men in the cottage. I suppose my distraction tactic worked, if even for a short while.
With a gentle breath, I reach out and place a hand upon his chest, avoiding the bandaged area.
“Faolan,” I whisper. Saying his name brings his gaze quickly to mine. “It’s all right. Let’s have a nice dinner together, okay?”
The muscles in his jaw flex beneath his skin, but he gives me a nod. “Okay.”
At least he’s willing to try. At this point, I’m not sure I can hope for much more than that.
Chapter 21
Alden
AFTER A DELICIOUS BUT AWKWARD dinner during which the shifter did little but grumble and glare, Rowan kisses Aurora on the cheek and then leaves the cottage to head back to the guardhouse, albeit hesitantly. Before Faolan’s arrival, he and I would often switch out who slept upstairs in the bed, the other either heading out for the evening or opting to sleep on the couch. I’d typically be willing to go back to my cabin, but I’m so exhausted from my trip that I can barely keep my eyes open. I fear I’d only make it halfway down Brookside Road before falling asleep in the bushes and downed leaves.
“You want tea?” Aurora asks me as I start up the stairs. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, framing her face in a color like summer, and her belly is round beneath her dress. She’s a picture of beauty.Mybeauty. And that’s never been clearer than now, after meeting back up with Belinda and choosing to walk away from her.
Aurora is the one I choose. She’s the one I’llalwayschoose.
“Alden?” She tips her head curiously, forehead furrowing. A question hovers in her green eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Better than okay. Just tired. And a tea sounds nice.”
“All right. I’ll bring it up soon.”
“Thanks.”
She gives me a soft smile, then turns and walks back into the kitchen.
Faolan is in the parlor, and when I glance over my shoulder, I can just see his shadow flickering on the boarded-up window. I planned to get the glass in tonight, but I’m much too tired, and my full stomach is only serving to make me sleepier. It can wait one more day.
With a small sigh, I start up the stairs, thinking of everything on my list: I need to get back into Faunwood tomorrow and resume my work at the Golden Lantern; I need to get the boards removed and fit the new glass in the parlor window; and it’s now become clear that I’m going to need to build either a bigger bed for Aurora’s bedroom—not sure how she’d feel sleeping crammed between two of us—or perhaps a bed for the second bedroom, but I know Aurora intends for that room to be the nursery. The cradle is still on my to-build list.
This cottage is the perfect size for a small family, but assuming the shifter is here to stay, there are going to be four of us crammed into this space, not including Harrison and the baby.
I might need to build an addition... An extra bedroom and washroom would probably be enough. Off the parlor, maybe.
The stairs creak underfoot, though I’m not sure if they’re agreeing or disagreeing with my thoughts. I’ll run it by Aurora when I’m not so exhausted. If she does want to expand the cottage, I’d prefer to get started on it before the snow arrives.
Upstairs, I peel off my tunic and trousers, then crawl into bed. The sheets are soft and cool and familiar against my wearyskin. Aurora already had a fire going early this evening when I arrived, and it’s heated the room to a cozy temperature, which only makes my body feel heavier in the embrace of the mattress.
I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of the pillows—they always smell like lavender, likeAurora. Pulling one close, I bury my face in it, then laugh at myself. I was only gone for three days and two nights, yet being away from her for that long felt like a lifetime.
By some miracle, I’m still awake a few minutes later when the door creaks softly—add that to my list—and Aurora pads in on quiet bare feet.
“Are you still awake?” she whispers.
