Page 49 of Wolves & Watercolors
Her eyes meet mine and she looks in control for the first time since her shower. “I have so many questions.”
I bite my lip, thinking. I don’t want to make a bad situation even worse. “Are you okay knowing more? It’s a lot of dump on top of the witch thing.”
“Hey,” she says, holding up a hand. “Thinking about your freaky werewolf stuff is way easier to handle than the idea that I’m a witch, so let me have this.”
“If you insist. But are we going to have this entire conversation while I’m naked?”
“I’m good with that.” Her mouth curves in a devious smirk that I like far more than I should.
“Of course you are.”
“Is it bad I want to kiss you even after I saw you turn into a dog?” She whispers, like it’s a shared conspiracy.
“Hey, not a dog. Don’t say that.”
“Sorry, werewolf, shit, shifter!”
When she smiles sweetly and meets my eyes, I know we’re going to be okay. “Come on, I need to get some pants.”
“But look at that ass,” she teases.
“You really have a thing for asses, don’t you?”
“Just yours.”
When I glance back, her smirk wavers, her expression tense.
“I’m flattered. Come on, I’ve got some clothes on the porch.”
“Why do you have clothes on the porch? Oh, turning into a wolf, of course. I got you.” She follows me, muttering to herself. We thread our way through the underbrush and I find the path oddly clear. It only takes a few minutes to reach my family’s cabin.
While I tug a pair of sweats on, Aurora crosses to the swing. It’s a hanging daybed my dad made for my mom years ago and it’s loaded with pillows and a cozy blanket. Aurora wraps it around herself and sits with her legs tucked under her. When I sit beside her and push off the ground to send us swinging, she wraps an arm around my bicep and cuddles close, setting her chin on my shoulder.
It’s so nice sitting together, her warmth soaking into my bare skin, but I know we have concerns to address. “So what do you want to know?”
“Hazel’s eyes glowed.” She gets right to the point.
“That’s not a question,” I say, flinching when she glares at me. “Okay, yes, Hazel is a wolf shifter too. Your dad was too, and Heath is, obviously.”
“How many people here are shifters?”
“Everyone.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Her eyes widen, her mouth opening and closing for a moment as she processes.
“Nope.”
My steady demeanor seems to calm her, and she takes a few slow breaths. “Are you telling me I’ve been the only human here this whole time?”
“Yes, that would be accurate.”
“That’s crazy.” Her tone is quieter now.
I extract my arm from her grip so I can wrap it around her shoulders. Together, we sink backwards until she can rest her cheek against my chest. The skin-to-skin contact is comforting.
“Except I’m some sort of witch?” Her voice wobbles.
I throw my other arm across her, caging her against my chest. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t human. You’re just an extra special human.”
