Page 88 of A Witch and Her Minotaur
Chapter 43
Cairn
TODAY IS THE WINTER SOLSTICE, the shortest day of the year. The campus is quiet, a soft snow is falling, and my fire has been burning nonstop to keep the cold at bay.
Since my conversation with Lysandra, I feel more sure than ever in my decision to take the job at the Columbine Conservatory and leave Coven Crest behind. The only thorn still pricking at my heart is the one with red hair and sharp crimson eyes.
Lyra Wilder.
No matter how I try, I can’t seem to get her off my mind. Even now, as I’m going through the belongings in my hut, trying to determine what to take with me into my new life, I find my thoughts drifting to her.
Even though this will be good for both of us, I can’t shake the feeling that there is so much left unsaid. She didn’t give me the opportunity to explain, and now she’s gone, and I’ll not be here when she returns.
Will she think of me?I wonder as I take hold of the end of the blankets on my bed.Will she miss me like I miss her?I give the blankets a hard flap, intending to set them straight so I can make the bed, and the movement sends something flying into the air before it twirls to the ground without so much as a whisper.
My brow furrows. I step around the bed, looking for what just fell, and my gaze homes in on a silky red ribbon.
It’s the ribbon that was wrapped around the gift box I gave Lyra, the one she asked me to tie around the end of her braid that night she stayed with me. It must’ve fallen out of her hair, and I’m only just now finding it.
Hooves thumping on the wood floor, I round the bed, then stoop to pick it up. It’s soft against my fingers and brings back memories of that night—memories I’ve been trying very hard to push down, to repress so they can’t rise up to bite me.
But now it all rushes in, along with the truth of my feelings.
I want Lyra. I want her so bad it makes my bones ache. And I’m going to miss her terribly when I leave.
I’m still holding the ribbon, tracing my fingers along its softness, when a knock sounds on my front door.
Immediately, I lift my head.
Who could that be?
I know Lysandra left a few days ago, returning to Wysteria to be with her family for the solstice, and none of the other professors who’re staying here over the holiday ever come to visit me. As far as I’m aware, there’s no one else still on campus.
Enclosing the ribbon in my fist, I turn from beside the bed and walk into the living area. Outside the windows, snow softly falls, and I don’t hear anything except for the crackling of flames in the hearth and the gentle tick of the clock.
My hand wraps around the door handle, and I pull it open.
A shock of red greets me.
Red hair, red eyes, cheeks flushed with pinkish red.
It’s . . .her.
My heart squeezes.
What is she doing here?
My gaze flicks up, over her shoulder. There are tracks through the snow, and in the distance, I see a wagon trundling back down the road toward the Mistwood. But I see no one else.
Just Lyra Wilder. Standing on my doorstep. Looking up at me with snowflakes caught in her eyelashes.
“Hi,” she says, breath steaming out around her mouth.
I swallow hard. “Hi.”
Lyra shuffles her boots a bit in the snow that’s already accumulated on my doorstep, and I realize I’ve not yet invited her in out of the cold. I was so shocked to see her standing there, I froze up. Quickly, I step back, holding the door open.
“Would you like to . . . come in?”
