Chapter 18

I wake up with a jolt from a horn blasting early in the morning. I blink open my eyes, forgetting where I am for a moment as I glance down and my eyes widen.

At some point in the night, Thorin shifted back to Silas. So now there’s a very naked man lying face down with his arms wrapped around my legs. His lips are parted as he sleeps away, but his muscular ass is far too hard not to notice, and I can’t help myself when I stare.

Who knew a man could have such a nice butt? One that leads to large legs and a very broad back. Silas doesn’t have any tattoos that I can see, only a branding on his left shoulder and a few healed scars. They’re all so faintly pink that you can barely see them.

I wonder what healing is like in the shifter world? Is it sped up?

In order to not stare at what seems to be the best looking ass in male creation, I focus in on a scar on his shoulder, dragging my fingertip across his flesh.

He inhales quickly, a surefire sign that he’s about to wake up. Instead of making this more awkward than it is, I lie back down, feigning sleep.

I do my best not to tighten my eyes too tightly and give myself away, which is hard, because he’s grumbling to himself.

“You stupid fuck. Now I don’t have any clothes. What were you even thinking?”

It takes me a moment to realize he’s not talking to me. He’s talking to Thorin…interesting.

“She’s nothing, Thorin, I’ve had enough,” he says, swinging open the bathroom door and turning on the shower.

Well, that was certainly something. I glance at the bathroom door and make a snap decision, grabbing a hotel key, phone, my car keys, and my wand.

I don’t give a shit that I’m walking down the street wearing just Silas’ shirt. That doesn’t even smell that awesome. Maybe earthy, masculine, and rich. But I bet that other Alpha smelled this good, too.

Oh, the lies I delude myself with.

As soon as I get to the car, I grab mine and Silas’ bag. Part of me just wants to get dressed and go scope out the jewelry store for myself. But it’s clear the city is rife with shifters and after last night, it’s evident Thorin and Silas aren’t on the same page.

Who would’ve thought I’d come to like a wolf more than I would a man?

The lock of the hotel room whirls and as soon as I walk in, I’m greeted with a wet-haired Silas, his whole manly chest on display, while his bottom half is wrapped in a towel.

I’ve seen far too much of this man this morning.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he seethes, pacing, and I can’t help but to laugh. “What are you laughing about?”

“You and Thorin pace the same way,” I tell him, tossing him his backpack. “Forgive me for thinking you didn’t want to walk around naked all day.”

He catches the backpack and looks back at me. “You wore that out?” he says, looking at the way his shirt hits me mid thigh.

“Yes, well, Thorin apparently tore my dress from last night into pieces,” I say, pointing over to the corner.

He nods, looking back at my legs again before heading to the bathroom. I take that opportunity to change myself.

I go casual, with high-waisted denims and a black t-shirt with witch’s silhouettes on the front that says girls will be girls. I pull out my wand and quickly spell my makeup and hair into place.

When Silas opens the door, he looks me up and down. “Are you just trying to broadcast that you’re a witch?” he says, pointing to my shirt.

“Says the wolf shifter wearing plaid. Come on, the jewelry store opens in twenty minutes.”

We grab breakfast first, Silas eating an ungodly amount of food while I drink my iced coffee and bite down on a beignet.

“Does shifting make you hungry?” I ask, as we stand across the street from the jewelry store, casing the place.

“I’m always hungry,” he says easily, eating his second breakfast burrito.

“You haven’t asked me about last night,” I question.

I mean, the man was belittling his wolf this morning and reminding him that I’m nobody.

“No need. I know Thorin wouldn’t hurt you,” he says and my brows furrow.

“How do you—” I stop mid sentence as I watch her walk into the shop. She has a wide smile on her face. She doesn’t even look much older than the photos I found in the chest.

She has the familial white blonde hair, my same bright blue eyes, and the moon shaped beauty mark on the side of her neck.

I toss my breakfast in the trash and barely look both ways before crossing the street and grab the door handle.

A large, familiar scent hits me before his hand wraps around mine.

“We should have a plan,” he tells me.

I swallow, watching her through the window as she goes to the backroom, before coming to the front and cleaning some of the glass showcases.

“I imagine she’s going to look at me and realize who I am,” I tell Silas, who sighs, but doesn’t let go of my hand.

“Meeting your family isn’t always a happy reunion,” he says, and I glance up at him. Now isn’t the time or the place to discuss him finding family members.

My mother is right past this door and I’m finally about to meet her. I’m finally about to understand. So, I ignore Silas’ caution and swing the door open, a light bell dinging as I walk in.

“Can I help you?” a friendly enough man says, but I shake my head and approach the case near my mother.

She sprays some Windex, wiping any streaks away before glancing up at us with a friendly smile. It’s the type of smile you give a stranger you’re trying to sell something to, not one of familial recognition.

“Hi there, what can I help you with?” she says in a southern drawl, not so indifferent from my grand-mère’s. Her name tag says Laylah, not Lavender.

I’m shocked speechless as I hear my mother’s voice for the first time. Her smile falters a little, and she looks above me.

Silas’ large hand grips my hip.

“Me and the misses just got hitched, and well, in our haste to the altar, we didn’t think about wedding rings.”

I swallow. What? I glance up at Silas and he squeezes my hip again. The touch is for me to play along, to make this encounter last longer so we can get more information.

“Oh, congratulations. You make a beautiful couple. Do you know what you’re looking for?”

“I need something simple, durable. And the little lady likes unique, definitely not a diamond,” he says.

I can’t tell if he’s being cheap, or he actually understands my style as she leads us to a case of unique rings before pulling them out.

“Well, we have opal, emerald, and amethyst.”

“Amethyst,” I whisper out and she smiles, pulling the tray out with amethyst stones.

“Are we thinking big or dainty?” she asks, and I can’t help but to just stare into her eyes that are exactly like mine.

“Dainty, she works at a hospital, so something that won’t get in the way,” Silas says, he’s still holding my hip, I nearly forgot.

The ring she pulls out isn’t the most expensive. She’s not trying to oversell as she holds her hand out. I place mine in hers as she slides the ring on my finger, and I do my best not to cry.

“This one is simple, but timeless,” she says as I look down at the rose gold band with an oval amethyst in the middle, flanked by moissanite floral diamonds.

“It’s perfect,” I whisper, and glance back up at her.

“Wonderful. I love getting it right on the first try.” She grabs some rings for Silas and glances at his finger. “Looks like you’ll need a larger size, like my husband.”

“Your husband?” I question and she nods with a smile but doesn’t elaborate.

Silas picks the least expensive ring and slides it on his finger.

“We’ll take both of these. How long has this place been here?” he asks.

He’s clearly way better at this whole interrogation thing, but I just can’t stop staring at her or making it weird.

“Oh, well, over a hundred years.”

“How long have you worked here?” he asks.

Her brows furrow. “Wow, I think I’m coming up on thirty years here soon.”

I stiffen and I can’t help myself as I grab her wrist. I don’t feel her magic, not like I do when I’m around the coven. She feels like any human would.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asks me.

I blink at her, trying to hold it together, but I can’t. “No, my mistake.”

“Why don’t you get some fresh air while I finish everything here?” Silas says, his eyes almost as soft as the boy’s I once loved.

I stare at him a moment before I leave. Walking till the Mississippi River stops me. Sitting on a bench created to deter the homeless, I curse as I pull out my wand and melt the iron bars that were splintering the bench into sections.

I sit and stare at the water and for the first time in a long time I cry.

She didn’t recognize me. She doesn’t seem to have magic. It’s not only a dead end to this stupid fucking spell I have with Silas, but a dead end to everything I had hoped she would be.

Is she this way because she left the coven? Witches are not nomadic. Is that the price she had to pay for leaving? Is her husband my father? Or is there so much more going on that I don’t understand?

Why did the spirit bring us here? Why now?

I watch as the ferry transfers people across the river and wonder why everything seems to be going to absolute shit right now.

My life was perfect. All the love, affection, and understanding I needed was based in my coven. Of course, I wanted to know about my mother, but it didn’t haunt me like it has as of late. Maybe the moment I moved into her old home was when the need to understand what happened started consuming me.

I look down at my hand, actually loving the ring. My mother picked out this ring, even if she doesn’t know I’m her daughter or that my marriage is complete bullshit.

When I go to take the ring off, the magic won’t let me and I curse.

“Well, this is just fucking awesome,” I murmur to myself.

Silas’ large frame plops down next to me and he doesn’t say anything right away. It’s no surprise he was able to find me, maybe he can scent me, or it’s just the power of the magic between us.

“Can’t take your ring off, either?” he questions and I nod.

I could bitch about it. Tell him that this is all his fault for coming up with that stupid story. But I freeze. Without him, we wouldn’t have gotten what little information we did.

“I was able to gather some more information and something else,” Silas says.

I wipe the bottom of my eyes with my thumbs, not wanting him to see me cry as he hands me a necklace wrapped in silk.

“As soon as you left, it was like she remembered something,” Silas says. “Her brows furrowed, and she remembered the matching necklace for that ring. It was in the back. It wasn’t even for sale.”

I look at it. The stone and design is similar to my ring.

“You think it’s the necklace from her letter?”

“Could be. I have Jonas doing a background search on her now that I have her name. She said she didn’t have any children.”

I hold the necklace in my fist. An angry, irrational part of me wants to throw it in the river. But the curious, needing a connection to my mother, part of me shoves it in my pocket.

“Jonas can be trusted?” I ask, glaring at Silas.

“Yes.”

I sniffle and rest my head in my hands. “I didn’t know what to expect. Is it wrong that I think this would be easier if she was dead?”

“No, because I felt the same.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, Vi, I did,” he says, splaying his arms out on the park bench as we both watch the ferry.

“What happened?” I ask, wondering if he’ll tell me. He surprises me by leaning back and telling me everything.