Page 51 of Wolves & Watercolors
‘Yes. They exchanged marks.”
Her next question comes hesitantly. “What about my sister?”
“She wears Slate’s mark and he has hers.”
She nods slowly, running her teeth over her bottom lip. “That’s why they don’t care about getting married.”
“There’s some magic behind it. They can feel each other’s emotions somewhat. I’m not sure how much, since I’ve never experienced it, obviously,” I explain.
“That must make thingsinteresting.”
“We call them mates.” It’s important to me that she understands these relationships. “It’s just as serious as marriage, but with different consequences if you break up. The emotional bond can’t be severed as far as I know.”
“Then does anyone ever break up?”
“We aren’t built that way. It almost never happens. The only case I know of is when Slate’s mom left his dad, which is why he has two half-siblings.”
“What happened to his dad?” she asks, her brows furrowing.
“He died.”
“What?” she yelps, twisting in my arms.
My hand brushes down her back, soothing her. “Not from that, but the long-term stress of the betrayed bond didn’t help. We’re not meant to be separated from our mates.”
“It sounds serious,” she says, her voice trailing off.
“Yeah,” I say, tightening my hold and urging her to settle against me again. The soft sway of the swing lulls us into a quiet peace and I savor the feel of her melting against me. She lets out a small, contented noise. For a moment, I can pretend that she’s mine.
Aurora
“Oh, you guys look cozy.” Hazel’s voice jerks me awake. Cedar’s arms tighten around me, keeping me from tumbling off the swing. I’m grateful but simultaneously horrified.
In the past, I never would have cared if my sister found me with a boy. But this is different. Cedar is different.
With a sigh, I push myself up to sit. Cedar follows until we sit side by side and face Hazel. I feel like a guilty teenager. My sister props her hands on her hips and purses her lips.
Slate stands behind her, a smirk on his face and a baby carrier strapped to his front. The top of baby Timber’s head pokes out, wisps of dark hair curling in patches.
Cedar ducks his head and rakes his fingers through his messy hair.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Hazel, the disapproval in her expression keeping me from jumping up and hugging her.
“I’m fine,” she says curtly.
“Haze, you had a baby like twenty-four hours ago. Are you sure you should be walking around like this?”
Hazel ignores my concern. “I think we need to talk.”
She probably means about me and Cedar becoming some sort of item, but her tone irritates me. She’s the one who disappeared into the woods and became a wolf shifter and kept it secret. If she wants to discuss uncomfortable truths, fine. “Apparently I’m some sort of plant witch.”
Her eyes widen, but I’m not done.
“Not to mention, you turned into a werewolf and didn’t bother telling me.” Crossing my arms, I tip my chin up defiantly. Cedar tenses beside me.
Hazel gawks at me. Slate steps up beside her and wraps an arm around her waist. “Why don’t we go inside? She’s not wrong. You should still be resting.”
She lets out a huff and crosses her arms. Part of me feels viciously gratified, but moreover, guilt settles in my gut. I don’t want to be fighting with my sister.
