Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

WREN

T he rain finally lets up two days later. Sun streams through my windows, and Caelan left hours ago, apologizing profusely, promising to see me later, explaining he had to check on his friends and check in with Druze and Lila at Long Leaf Brews.

He was genuinely distraught, kissing me over and over again, as I assured him I understood.

Two whole days living in a blissful, snug domestic bubble with Caelan. He insisted on making every meal, massaging me, and giving me orgasms whenever I wanted.

I can't complain.

I do, however, wonder at the binding spell I cast. It gnaws at me, the knowledge that maybe I did something to cause him to become so attached to me prickling under my skin like a splinter I can't quite get rid of.

Caelan insists I'm wrong, but if I botched the spell and did this to him, I need to know.

At the same time, I don't want to know.

I hope I am wrong.

I've gotten accustomed to the idea of him being around. I like his quick wit, his cocky smirks, and the way he takes care of me.

He's a great cook, a generous lover, and has all the makings of a great partner, Unseelie fae or not.

I care about him. Which feels silly, feels too soon, like maybe I'm just na?ve and wishful instead of truly thinking about the reality of what it would mean if I were actually his mate.

My parents had a happy marriage, a normal marriage, no mates at all, and though it was clear every day that they loved and respected each other, they made sure to tell me often that relationships, no matter your partner, were like a living thing.

My mom often compared their marriage to taking care of a plant—it required thought, and water and sunshine and fertilizer. It was work, but a job they were both proud to contribute to, and as a result, I got to see what a healthy marriage looked like: a partnership, full of love and respect.

Not that I've had an inclination or opportunity to even try to find the same thing.

No, I've been so preoccupied with my ejection from my coven, then my rejection from the guild, that I have hardly made time for anything but leveling up my spellcasting and refining my craftsmanship.

When it comes to Caelan… I don't know what to think.

All I know for sure, though, is that I already care about him, and we seem to work really well together. It's easy with him, and I can't believe my good luck.

Yet the idea nags at me that maybe the stupid spell I cast could be influencing him, or have backfired on his Unseelie fae blood, seeing as how he's not the demon the spell was built for…

My stomach turns.

It doesn't matter how much he insists otherwise, the possibility remains.

At least he left—if he was still hanging around here and doting on me, I would be even more suspicious.

Stupidly, I already miss him. I keep opening my mouth to tell him something funny I just thought of only to realize he's not there.

Talking to Fenn isn't quite the same.

The fox glances up at me as I think of him, and I reach down to scratch the soft fur behind his pointed ears.

"I'm ridiculously behind on everything," I tell him, and his ears twitch, his long-lashed eyes soft and warm as he rubs his face against my ankle. "I haven't gotten any closer to finding the dragon sapphires, I haven't done anything to show the guild they need me, and all I've managed to do is sleep, eat, have sex, and read this book for the club tonight." I pick up the book in question, a romance about a human knight and a mermaid who makes a deal with a witch to give him a merman's tail but forgets to ensure he can breathe underwater.

Another example of witches being ostracized in literature, despite the fact the witch in question was likely overwhelmed with work from the locals and the mermaid could have been more particular in her request.

"But noooo, somehow it's all the witch's fault!" I tell Fenn, glaring at the linen-bound novel. Sighing, I pick it up and put it in my leather pack. The sun's setting on Wild Oak Woods, I have made absolutely no money in the last few days, thanks to the relentless rain and flooded streets, and now I have to go be social at a book club about a book in which the witch is the villain.

Not to mention I miss Caelan.

Grumpy, I run the brownie's gifted comb through my hair one last time before throwing my hands up and deciding it's good enough.

Fenn trots behind me as I make my way out of the shop's front exit, carefully locking up everything as I did before.

Thankfully, several days of sitting around with Caelan—my cheeks go fiery as I realize maybe sitting around isn't the best descriptor of the past few days—means my heels have healed, though the rest of me is quite sore from all our… activity.

The thought of him sends heat through my body, soothing the ache he's caused.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the crisp scent of cooler weather on the horizon, a sure sign summer's truly fading into autumn.

By the time I make it to The Listening Page bookstore, I'm in a noticeably better mood, the fading sunshine and breeze doing wonders for my introverted bad attitude after being cooped up for a few days, even with Caelan's inimitable company.

The door to Ruby's shop's propped open with a large brass planter, a green patina of verdigris snaking charmingly up the side of it. Small pink roses and purple pansies spill over the side, perfuming the air. Fenn even stands up on his hind feet, his little nose twitching as he sniffs the flowers.

"Spelled," I tell him, and he yips in agreement. What charm's been worked on the planter, I'm not sure, but judging from the way my entire body relaxes as I enter the store, I have a guess or two.

And I'm certainly not about to complain about it.

A neat piece of spellwork, one I should probably employ at my own shop door.

Still, a faint tingle of nervousness grips me as I walk through the door. Unlike the last time I was here, the store is full of chattering voices, drowning out the sound of the crackling fire.

Ruby's cat yowls, jumping down from a high bookshelf near the door and flouncing around Fenn, with eyes the size of dinner plates.

Fenn must pass inspection because the fluffy cat saunters off without incident, and I let out a shaky breath as I shove my shoulders back and head toward the sound of conversation.

"You made it!" Ruby claps her hands as I round the corner.

At least two dozen mismatched chairs are arranged in a semi-circle around the massive stone hearth, and an impeccably arranged table flows down the length of it. Cheeses and breads and pastries and dried sausages and fruit slices form artful pinwheels and flowers, and I take it in for a beat, hungry after the past few days' exertion.

"I'm so glad you're here," a familiar voice says, and I finally look up from the impressive spread.

To my surprise, I recognize nearly all the readers in attendance. A smile tugs up the corner of my lips, and for a split second, I wonder why I was so anxious about coming to the book club.

Ruby, of course, I met the other day, but Piper's also there, waving at me from a deep teal velvet chair that looks like she might disappear if she sits too deeply in it.

Nerissa's thumbing through her copy of the book on the fireplace hearth, her legs tucked underneath her as she scowls at the pages, her face nearly hidden behind her dark hair. A blonde elf's ears peek out from a crown of complicated braids—I'm fairly certain that's Lila from Caelan's tea shop, and I make a mental note to go pick up some tea from her. Rosalina's in deep conversation with Willow, her mouse familiar washing his face with careful pink paws.

There are plenty of faces that are new to me too, a satyress with delicately feathered hooves peeking out from a long floral dress, another elfin woman whose face I recognize but whose name I can't remember, and a green-skinned and emerald-haired woman who I'd bet money is a dryad.

There is only a pair of men amongst all the women, and they share a kiss before one feeds another a piece of jam-topped cookie.

It's a good vibe.

"The food looks too pretty to eat," I tell Ruby, barely managing to catch Fenn as he leaps into my arms. He yips at me, and Ruby lets out a low laugh, her eyebrows raised.

"You should probably give him some sausage before he starts Maximillian to howling." She jerks her chin at the fireplace, where the great big fluffy cat sits, his eyes glowing in the light from the fire, tail twitching at his side.

"Is he your familiar?" I ask, though I'm fairly certain that's exactly what he is.

"Familiar is probably the nice way to put it." Ruby laughs again, the sound so contagious I smile. "He'd probably say I'm his servant if he could talk. Grab some snacks, pull up a chair, and we'll be getting started in just a moment." She pauses, her lips pursing, and then she nods to herself. "I thought maybe we could… the witches, I mean, have a chat afterwards, that is, if you don't have plans." The words tumble out of her mouth, and she wrings her hands together.

I recognize the nervous gesture all too well. "Sure, of course I can stay."

She lets out a long sigh, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Good, that's good." She beams at me, ushering me over to the table.

Piper stands up, her deer familiar snoozing on the floor beside her, barely moving as Piper steps over her velvety hindquarters, making a beeline for me.

"What is on your neck?" she asks, her brown eyes round. Her hand drifts towards my right ear, and I slap it away on reflex.

Piper's mouth goes round, and then she covers it with a hand. "No," she says on an exhale.

"It's a bruise." I pull my hair over it, slightly embarrassed. Why is it that I have to blush at everything? Why can't I just have the complexion where nothing ever turns me red?

"It's a hickey," she hisses, grabbing my hair before I have a chance to stop her, peeking under it and then smiling in triumph. "A good one, too."

"I think I fucked up," I admit, covering my face as I whisper.

"What? Because someone kissed you so much they left a little love mark right there?" She's gleeful, doing a funny little step-dance around me.

"No," I say, trying to flee from her perusal as I make my way to the table laden with cheese and sausage and fruit and yummy-looking pastries. I don't even bother with a plate, suddenly totally overwhelmed at the reality of what I might have done to Caelan to make him give me that bruise.

"Then what?" Her expression changes. "Did somebody hurt you? I'll hex them so they can't shit for a year," she says, and there's no chance she doesn't mean it.

"It was Caelan," I say around the cheese, then toss a piece of sausage to where Fenn's patiently waiting. He snatches it out of the air, then disappears under an empty chair to enjoy his treat.

"So?" and then— "Oh. Ooooh." She looks scandalized, her eyebrows disappearing into her chocolatey brown hair. "You made him kiss you?"

"No, I didn't make him kiss me," I wail. "I'm afraid it was a reaction to the binding."

The conversation all around us dies, and I realize I've practically screamed my problem to the entire reading circle.

Oh, fuck. Fuck!

Lila's staring at me, her brow wrinkled in concern, a piece of sausage paused halfway to her mouth.

Nerissa's looked up from the mermaid/knight romance, her head tilted to the side as she considers what I've just yelled at everyone.

"Impossible," Nerissa says smoothly, not even bothering to look up from her book.

Piper puts a firm hand on the small of my back and pushes me to the hearth, where I plop down. My handful of smoked cheese stares up at me forlornly, and I promptly stuff it into my gob, chewing as I attempt to calm my stampeding heart.

And attempt to avoid saying anything else stupid.

"You think the binding went wrong," Piper murmurs, her face completely serious, eyebrows cinched together.

"Impossible," Nerissa repeats, this time glancing up at me.

She sighs as she inspects my face and sets her book down on the stones.

"Why do you think something backfired?" Piper presses.

"Because… because…" I trip over the word. How am I supposed to tell them that he said I'm his mate? That he… knotted me?

My face turns beet-red and I shove the rest of the cheese into my mouth and cover my face with my hands.

"Oooooh," Nerissa says in a low, knowing voice. "No wonder he didn't try to break the binding or resist at all."

I glance sidelong at her and she nods at me, a faint smile kicking up the sides of her mouth.

"You're his mate," she finally pronounces.

The silence is deafening, and I just shrug.

"They mate ?" Piper asks.

I peek at her through my fingers, and she peels my hands from my face.

"They do." Nerissa sounds positively gleeful. "And Caelan's must be Wren."

"But what if it's my fault and he just thinks I am? What if I messed up? What if everything he's saying and doing is just some stupid mistake I made?"

Ruby plops down in front of me, her wide, window-pane-print trousers puddling around her legs. She pushes up her glasses. "The fae mating bond can't be faked."

"Exactly," Nerissa agrees.

"It's primal," Ruby adds primly.

I look up as a loud conversation breaks out again, all around me.

Everyone here has been listening in on my mental breakdown, but they're not whispering behind their hands about me, like they would have in my old coven. They're not staring at me with horrified expressions.

No, they look truly concerned, each piping up with their own stories about the Unseelie fae, about mates, and about binding spells. Well, nearly everyone, the satyress just nods sagely at the various pieces of advice floating around.

"Caelan has a hard shell around him," Lila advises, a soft smile on her lips. "But he has a good heart, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Sure, he can be short-tempered, but some of our guests even annoy Druze, and he's hard to ruffle. He's a good male, Wren."

"Binding spells should be easy for the fae to break. I was half-expecting him to easily unwind our spell that night."

"See?" Piper says, gesturing to everyone. "This is not the end of the world."

"But we ate your sexy cookie, Piper," I moan. "What if it interacted with it? It was much, much stronger than it should have been. It was less of an alluring charm and more of an immediately jump your bones charm."

Her nose wrinkles. "That was a stronger batch than I intended, but it wouldn't have pushed you that far. And it shouldn't have worked on a fae at all."

"Yeah, those cookies are delicious but they don't work on me," Lila agrees.

"That's what he said, but what if?—"

"Nope," Ruby shakes her head, and Piper grins at her. "We're not going to support your catastrophizing, are we, team?"

"I mean, I like drama as much as the next person," one of the men chimes in, "but I think you're looking for a reason to run. And trust me, I am one to know."

"He really is," his partner agrees, squeezing his hand. "It took me years to lock him down. If you like this fae and he's committed to you, what reason is there to run?"

"The fear of ruining it all," the other guy says, rolling his eyes. "Obviously."

"Obviously!" I agree, pointing at him because he gets it.

Oh.

Everyone's peering at me with what would be comical, matching expressions in various degrees of ‘I told you so.'

"Oh," I say out loud. "Okay. Oookay."

"Okay," Piper says, clapping her hands. "Well. That's that problem solved. You like him, he's obsessed with you?—"

"Lucky," Willow mutters, so low I'm not sure I heard her right.

"And now we can talk about the book," Ruby concludes.

Fenn darts out from under the chair, sniffing my hand before tugging at my trousers, leading me over to the table for more food.

This time, I grab a plate like I have a modicum of manners, but when I sit down in one of the mismatched, warm chairs by the fire, I can't concentrate on the conversation about the mermaid and the knight.

All I can think is maybe, just maybe, Caelan really does care about me.