2. Ambrose

2

AMbrOSE

Two Years Later

T he conspicuous closing of a drawer wakes me from a fitful, raucous sleep. I roll from my side onto my back, burying my face in the pillow and exhaling deeply as I stretch. Bits and fragments of dreams flashed in my head throughout the night—breaking glass, dark shadows, a raven cawing in the woods. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I think about what they may mean.

As a natural witch, my magic isn’t divination or sight, but I knew those were dark, ill omens that meant loss, the shattering of the known, secrecy, and hidden agendas. Or maybe I’m being paranoid and letting my stress burrow under my skin. Things with Caulder have been different the past few months.

He used to come over for dinner often and we’d spend hours talking, watching movies, and taking pleasure in each other’s bodies. Then we’d have magic lessons in the morning where he’d teach me ways to control my magic. Caulder used to make me feel loved. Safe. Protected from the world. Now, he only comes over once a week at most, and is usually gone before I even wake up.

Today is a rare sight. He stands near the bed, buttoning his shirt. He makes sure it’s tucked into his pants before he dons his long, black suit coat. The crisp lines and smooth texture of the fabric make him look regal. Important. Caulder wants everything to look perfect, all the time.

Your image is everything, Ambrose. First impressions mean everything, he always says. His look is a far cry from my own jeans, tees, and cardigan sweaters.

I get out of bed and hug him around the waist from behind, laying a lingering kiss on his shoulder blade. “Good morning, handsome.”

His body stiffens, and it feels like a slap in the face. I don’t know why his behavior toward me changed. It feels as if a chasm grew between us inch by inch, slowly pushing him away from me. One I can’t bridge no matter how hard I try. Knowing he’s distancing himself from me makes me feel so fucking sad. Useless. Broken.

“Get off me,” he grits out, pushing me off him. I stumble back and almost fall onto the floor. “I have to go.” He gingerly places his wide brim black hat on his head.

My heart's already breaking, just like it always does when he leaves. In the privacy of our bedrooms, we’re lovers, but outside it, he’s High Priest Scarborough. Our relationship is a secret, even though I don’t want to hide it anymore.

“We have a lesson this morning, though,” I remind him. “You canceled our last few and I’m looking forward to this one.”

“I have more important things to do today,” he responds. Great to know I’m not a priority…

Caulder comes to my home acting sweet, fucks me, then when the sun rises, he’s back to being emotionless and distant toward me. He wasn’t always like this. My heart crumbles every time he pushes me away.

“You don’t want breakfast before you go?” I ask as a last ditch effort to spend time with him.

I try to keep my tone light and my eyes dry, but the exasperated frown on his face makes it difficult.

“Please take a hint. I say no every time you ask. I need to prepare for tonight’s Samhain meeting.” He doesn’t even look at me as he talks… he just stares beyond me at the wall, as if I’m not even worth making eye contact with.

I hate it when he treats me the way everyone else does. Like I’m not worth knowing. Just a piece of meaningless garbage.

I want to lash out, beg him to tell me what I did to make him act this way toward me. But the last time I brought it up, he told me I was imagining things. The time before that, I was accused of making up shit to complain about to ruin our perfect evening together. My magic swirls inside me, pushing at me from the inside to escape, but I use the techniques he taught me to control it.

Controlled breathing. Fortitude of mind. Calming thoughts.

He walks toward the door without hugging me or kissing me goodbye. Tears well in my eyes and I sniffle to hold them in. His loud sigh echoes in the quiet room, and he makes his way back, pecking me on the cheek.

“I don’t have time for dramatics, darling. I’ll see you tonight after the meeting.”

His words do little to make me feel better, though. It doesn’t take away the rejection or pain I feel. It doesn’t make me feel less alone.

The sunset peaks through the open shutters of the meeting house, combining with sacred candlelight to give the space a warm, dim glow. High Priest Scarborough, as he insists I call him in public, stands at the raised platform at the front.

The meeting should be over by now, but he hasn’t adjourned it yet. He clears his throat, getting everyone’s attention.

“As your High Priest, it’s my job to lead this coven. I’ve taken us out of dark, unpredictable times, and guided us toward the light. I’ve made it my mission to bring us back to our roots—to strengthen our craft. To make us stronger and grow our numbers. The long days I spend making sure every member of this flock is thriving are worth it, because our combined magic is a gift I cherish,” he says in a measured pace.

Everyone in the audience hangs on his every word, and the insecurities I felt this morning fade away. His words make me swell with pride. My man’s hard work and determination unified a coven that was so close to falling apart after my parents’ deaths. We lost our way, but he helped us find our path again.

“My vision of a unified magical family is reflected in every face I see before me tonight. Seeing us all gathered here today reminds me of how I was able to make this a reality, through the support of very special, dedicated people who care about this coven. Especially the support of one person in particular.”

Whispers break out across the crowd, and I hold my breath. Where is he going with this?

“This person is very near and dear to my heart and offers the love and support I need to do the hard work. Gives me strength when I feel tired. Lends me faith in myself when I feel defeated. As I look over this coven—our family—every week, I can’t help but think of how I want to start a family with this person. To build a legacy together that will watch over this amazing community.”

As he talks, the ember of hope inside me grows into a burning flame. He’s finally going to tell the coven about us. I knew he’d do it in his own time, when he was ready. That’s why he was so nervous earlier!

“This morning, I proposed to Flora Lawrence, and she was gracious enough to say yes. Over the past few months, I’ve fallen so deeply for her, and I know without a shadow of a doubt she is the woman I want to build my legacy with. Please come up to the stage, darling.”