Chapter 10

Aurora

HAND IN HAND, WE EMERGE from the forest to find the villagers still mingling around the crackling bonfire, waiting for their May Queen and Horned God to return. Alden meets my eyes as soon as I step from the tree line, and my stomach twists. I reach up to ensure my dress is back in place and remember the kisses Rowan pressed to the base of my neck as he tightened the laces once more.

I have to tell Alden what we did. What I did.

In the forest, it was as if a spell came over me. My apprehension and uncertainty disappeared, replaced with an emptiness only Rowan could fill—and fill it he did. I can still feel warmth between my thighs. Now, though, as I meet Alden’s deep brown eyes over the distance between us, I’m overcome with worry, with guilt .

A knife twists in my gut.

Rowan and I step toward the flames, and the villagers gather around us. As the story goes, the May Queen transforms the Horned God with her love, and through their sacred marriage, he sheds his winter form to become the Green Man, a symbol of life and renewal. As I lift my hands to remove the antlers from atop Rowan’s head, he smiles down at me. In the firelight, his eyes dance with vibrant shades of green, and his hair is like flame as it falls around his pale face.

He’s beautiful, my knight.

The antlers come away in my hands, and I hold them up over my head. All around us, the villagers rejoice, for winter has finally given way to summer, and the transformation is complete.

We are whisked away amidst laughter and clapping and the beating of drums. Rowan disappears into a sea of faces, and I try not to let my eyes search for him once he’s gone.

Before Alden can make his way to me through the crowd, a group of women surges forward, and they sweep me into another dance. I’m thankful, for my cheeks still feel warm, and I’m certain Alden would see the truth written across my face. But I need time to figure out how to tell him, what to say.

While music plays, we leap over coals and flames, cleansing ourselves in Beltane fire. Slowly, villagers pair up and disappear into the tenebrous forest, seeking their own refuges to go a-Maying as the moon illuminates the cloudless sky.

As the Beltane bonfire devours its fuel, slowly shrinking, people step forward to light handheld torches. It’s tradition to douse all hearth fires on Beltane and then to relight them with flames from the Beltane bonfire.

Alden joins me as I take up a torch and hold it into the flames. They cast warmth across my face, and my tired eyes feel heavy.

“Ready to go home?” he asks.

Home .

Home is being warm in bed with Alden beside me and Harrison at my feet. Home is drinking lavender tea in the mornings and watching as the steam from Alden’s mug curls around his dark eyes. In a very short time, Alden has become my home.

Will I still have a home after I tell him what I’ve done?

We walk back to the cottage together, with the bright moon overhead and the fire crackling upon the end of the torch. Alden carries it for me, holding it aloft—not that we need it to see, given the silver moonlight glowing all around us. I hold his free hand in mine, our fingers intertwined, and breathe in his woodsy smell.

His hand doesn’t feel like Rowan’s. Where Rowan’s was smooth, Alden’s is rough, calloused from his carpentry work. I find the small scar beside his thumb from where he injured himself this past spring and run my finger across it, lost in thought.

I’m glad he hasn’t asked me what happened once Rowan chased me into the trees. Maybe he already knows. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.

With the sun long gone, the air has cooled considerably. By the time we arrive at Brookside, I’m chilled, and the only warm part of me is the hand Alden holds in his. He opens the door, and together we step into the embrace of the cottage.

As soon as I’m standing in the entryway, a pattering of paws comes trotting down the darkened staircase.

“Welcome home,” Harrison says from where he sits on the last stair. The torchlight reflects in his brilliant green eyes, and he watches as Alden moves carefully through the entryway and into the parlor.

We both follow, all three of us gathering in the dark. As Alden kneels before the empty hearth, I close my eyes and whisper a short blessing.

“May the fire of Beltane warm spirits and ignite dreams. As the earth awakens in vibrant bloom, may hearts be filled with joy and renewal. May love and laughter dance, and may the seeds sown this season flourish into abundant blessings. Blessed be this Beltane, and may the light of the season guide us in all our wildest dreams.”

I open my eyes to meet Alden’s dark gaze. With a tiny nod from me, he leans forward and uses the torch to ignite the wood and kindling already waiting in the hearth.

After a moment of crackling and smoking, the kindling catches, and firelight fills the belly of the hearth. As the fire grows, crawling across the stacked logs, it feels as if Brookside itself releases a long-held breath.

Alden smiles up at me from where he still kneels on the floor, and I try to smile back, but all I can think is, Will he still smile at me like this once he knows what I’ve done?