Page 84 of Love's a Witch
“Why is she there so early in the morning?”
“Because we are dating. Do I need to provide more detailed information?” I raised an eyebrow at my mother as she gasped, and Sloane elbowed me in the ribs, ducking out of the screen.
“Knox, how uncouth.”
“Get used to it. Sloane and I are dating, and what you just said was rude. Do better.” I hung up and Sloane rounded on me.
“Knox! You can’t speak to your mother like that.”
“Sure I can. If she has an issue with what I do with my life, she can get back here and say it to my face. Until then, I quite simply do not care. I have taken care of this house and this town for years now, while they travel and do anything they please. It’s my turn to enjoy some happiness, and I’ll be damned if she gets to suck the joy from my life.”
“Oh.” Sloane’s mouth rounded.
“And yes, that happiness means you.” I brushed a kiss on Sloane’s lips, and then continued on down the hallway. I only paused when I realized she wasn’t following me. Turning, I caught her cuddling Blue close, her eyes caught on a painting. Wandering back, I looked at the painting she was staring at.
It was the one with the man standing by the blue cart.
“What’s caught your eye?”
“Look.” Sloane pointed, and I leaned closer to see a blue book in his hand. The same blue book that Oswald had given her.
“Ahhh, that makes sense. Eoin always regretted not being able to help Bonelle.”
Sloane gave me an odd look.
“So the hero complex runs through generations?”
“We’re knights, baby, can’t really train that out of us.” I grinned at Sloane’s annoyed huff of breath.
“But look, there are a lot of people in the background. And the emberwolves! See, there’s one.” She angled Blue so he could look at the painting too. “I wonder if this is the day it happened.”
“It might be.” I strained my eyes as a thought occurred to me. Many of the people featured at the festival in the background still had family lineage here.
“It feels meaningful. But I’m not sure why.” Sloane worried her bottom lip, and I dropped a kiss on top of her head.
“Maybe because Eoin couldn’t save Bonelle all those years ago, but I might be able to save you now.” I had an idea how to help, but I needed to dig a little further first. Not wanting to set hope alight quite yet, I decided against telling Sloane my thoughts.
“Oh,” Sloane breathed, her eyes caught on the painting. “I didn’t realize. That’s your ancestor. Duh, of course. Did he help Bonelle?”
“I think to a point, but in the end, I’m told he had to choose between the village and her. So she ran.”
“Poor thing,” Sloane said, her face wreathed in sadness. “So young to be on her own.”
“But unlike her, you’re not on your own now. And we’ll fix this.”
“You say that so confidently.” Sloane shook her head and moved away from the painting. “I wish I could feel the same.”
“Fake it ’til you make it, witchling.”
“Is that what you do?”
“Sometimes, if I have to. Everything has an answer. In time. We just don’t know it yet. But we have a lot of smart people who care about you in this town.”
“I think you’re being optimistic on the ‘care about me’ part of this. They care about Briarhaven.”
“And you’re a part of Briarhaven.” Sloane opened her mouth to argue with me, but I cut her off with a kiss. Hunger unfurled in me, and I braced one arm over her head, leaning into the kiss.
A whisper of wind was the only warning I had, and when I looked down, my clothes had turned see-through. Even better? So were Sloane’s. Blue took off from her arms, making a chortling noise that sounded dangerously like he was laughing, and I raised an eyebrow at Sloane.
