VIII . Pothos Paroxysm

Cedar

S late summons me to their cabin in the early morning hours. I was planning on a run to work more of that heavy feeling out of my chest, but when my Alpha calls, I come. Hazel curls up on the sofa with baby Timber sleeping in her arms. Heath sits in the arm chair and Sable stands in the kitchen.

“How are you doing?” I ask, dipping my head respectfully.

Hazel’s smile is tired, but she shifts her hold on her baby to show me the sweet girl’s squashed-looking face. “We’re great.”

“She’s adorable.”

Heath clears his throat. “So there was an incident with Aurora.”

My knees lock and I sway where I stand. “What do you mean?”

Slate motions for me to take the far armchair and settles beside Hazel. “She was in the room while Hazel was in labor.”

“She definitely saw my eyes glowing,” Hazel fills in. “We shouldn't have let her in. I don’t know why I didn’t realize what would happen.”

“All of us can bear that blame,” Slate says, placing a kiss on her shoulder. “But more importantly, something else happened.”

I land in the chair roughly, my hands gripping the arms. I should have been here. I kissed her and sent her off without thinking twice.

“One of my house plants fell off the window after it started to grow. It almost quadrupled in size. All the plants on the window at least doubled and that was enough to knock one of them off.”

It’s the last thing I expect. “What?”

“Something affected the plants,” Sable summarizes. Her mouth thins, irritated at my slow response. “Something supernatural.”

“And we think it’s Aurora? What about Timber?”

“We thought about that,” Heath says. “But the timing makes sense to be Aurora. You’ve spent the most time with her. Have you noticed anything strange?”

Leaning forward in my seat, I prop my elbows on my knees and rest my forehead against my palms. What have I noticed about Aurora? My exhale is slow and uneven. “She helped me plant some carrots and radishes on her first full day here. That was two or three days ago? And they’re almost ready to harvest.”

“Those are fast growers,” Hazel replies without looking up from her baby.

“Not that fast. They shouldn’t be sprouting until tomorrow or the next day at the earliest. I’ve already thinned them. It’s like they’re three or four weeks old and not three days.”

“So plants are growing like crazy around her,” Slate says, looking to Sable. “What does that mean?”

“It might be a coincidence. But perhaps we have a green witch on our hands.”

The words echo in my head, sending my heart racing. The girl I kissed in the kitchen isn’t a normal human? She’s got her own magic? That can’t be possible.

“That’s not a thing. Is that a thing?” Hazel’s head swings back and forth, confusion knitting her brows.

Heath taps a finger on his leg. “My grandmother once told me we had witches in our family line. I thought she was trying to scare me into listening. Maybe not.”

“That’s not possible,” Hazel argues, tipping her head sideways as she frowns at her uncle.

Slate lifts her hand and kisses the back of her knuckles. “You just learned you were a shifter two years ago. Is it so hard to believe Aurora might be a witch?”

“Wouldn’t we have seen evidence growing up?”

“She hasn’t been around a lot of nature until now,” Heath replies.

Rubbing at the back of my neck, I consider the implications. “So what are we going to do?”

“Watch her.” Hazel sighs and tips her head until her temple rests against Slate’s shoulder. “Let’s just see what happens. Once we can confirm the situation, we will have to talk to her.”

“Talk to her?” I echo. “About her possible magic, or everything?”

“Hopefully just her magic. But we will see. I’m not ruling anything out. She’s family.”

Heath nods. “Let us know what else happens around her.”

“And this is my assignment?” I clarify.

“She seems to want to spend time with you more than anyone else,” Slate says.

“Her first priority has been her sister,” I correct. “But she’s trying to be respectful with her time.”

Hazel sighs. “Yes, I know. She’s been great. But she’s very keen on you and now that can help us.”

“Yes, Alpha.” My stomach churns. Now it’s truly my assignment to stay close to Aurora. Should I tell them what happened? Cautiously, I say, “She’s been flirting a bit.”

My body tenses as Hazel pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. I thought she might. She thinks you’re nice and cute. I told her guys around here don’t casually date. Just tell her you’re not interested next time she does something flirty.”

Swallowing, I nod. My mouth is dry, my pulse pounding in my ears. I really needed that run.

“Good luck and let us know,” Hazel says. Timber lets out a small cry and her attention refocuses immediately.

With another respectful nod, I back out of their home and close the door behind me. Being outside helps a little, but I’m still on edge. I should go for a run right now, but my curiosity about Aurora wins out. There’s some driving need to make sure she’s okay.

The sun warms the treetops, casting a dim glow across the forest floor. It’s still very early, but Aurora is a morning person like I am. My feet lead me to Heath’s cabin.

On the way, I pass my family’s cabin. The wildflowers along the blue siding have grown up to a ridiculous height, especially along the addition. Maybe they have been overgrown for a while and I failed to notice. The copious blooms are unusual this early in the spring.

Heath’s cabin is similarly surrounded by flowers. Lupine stems grow past my knees and overtake the pathway as I approach. The sound of a shower drifts from a bathroom window left open a few inches. My feet slow.

From the bathroom window unfurls a glossy pothos vine. It trails down the wall and tangles with the shrubbery below. Even as I watch, the vine sends out tendrils and grasps stems and leaves of the plants below the window.

I jerk to a halt, staring. I’ve never seen a plant move like that. There’s nothing normal about the way it vibrates and two new leaves burst from the stem, uncurling and turning toward the early morning light.

Green witch, indeed.

Any doubt I had about her potential magical status is quelled. My mind whirls as I stand there, watching steam drift from the window and the pothos vine as it climbs across the bushes.

The water turns off. A startled yelp resounds, along with a bang. A string of curses follow, but I’m already in motion. I sprint around the cabin and through the kitchen door. Aurora lets out a louder screech, and I can hear her hyperventilating.

Knocking my fist against the door, I ask, “Aurora, are you okay?”

Perhaps she doesn’t hear me. Her words are garbled and rising in pitch, as if she is panicking. I have no idea what could be in the bathroom with her, but I’m not waiting any longer.

With a deep breath, I ram my shoulder into the door and break the lock. The door shoots open but catches before it can move more than a few inches. Vines crisscross over the space, making the entire bathroom look like a jungle. The steam is scented with Aurora’s floral smell mixed with the scent of leaves and new growth.

“Aurora?”

“Cedar?” Her answer is tentative and shaky.

“Are you okay?” I shove the door forward another inch and the vines push it back.

“I’m okay, but I think I’m trapped.”

“Just the plants?” I confirm.

“What the hell is happening?”

Raising my foot, I stomp on the lowest of the vines restraining the door, but only one breaks. “Hold on, I’m going to get you out of there.” Looking back into the kitchen, I spot a chef’s knife on a magnetic bar along the backsplash. That will do.

Armed with a blade, I begin to saw through the vines keeping the door closed. For every inch I gain, the vines reform and begin to curl around my feet. I’m going to be trapped too.

“Aurora, I need you to calm down. You’re making this worse.”

“Excuse me, but I can’t imagine you would handle it any better if your houseplants suddenly decided to hold you hostage!” A dull thud tells me she’s smacked something, maybe the wall.

“Hey, take slow breaths. I need you to calm down.”

Her ragged breathing slows as she attempts to follow my instructions. The rapid growth around my ankles slows, and I’m able to cut myself free. My progress forward is slow, and every so often, Aurora lets out a low whine.

It’s only a few feet to the shower, and when enough vines are cleared, I can see her huddled with the shower curtain wrapped around her. Wet hair clings to her neck and shoulders.

“Hey there,” I say, giving her my best winning smile.

Her wild eyes fix on me. “What is happening?” she repeats.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m getting you out of here and then we will figure it out.” My words come out confident and steady, which is not even close to how I feel.

The knife is coated in green sap from slicing into the vines. When I’ve made a clear path, I begin tugging away the vines that have wrapped around Aurora. It makes me nervous to have the knife so close to her skin, so I pull the vines away before cutting them off entirely.

Aurora shakes where she’s standing. Her white fingers grip the tan shower curtain, even once she’s free of the vines.

“I can go get you some clothes or a towel,” I offer. We both look at the towels on the hooks that are so wrapped up with leaves and vines that they look like they’ve been in the forest for generations.

When I turn back to find something else for her, she lets out a protesting whine. “Don’t leave me. Just get me out of here.”

“Okay, come here,” I say, reaching for her. It’s impossible to look away. She drops the dripping shower curtain and allows me to scoop her up. Her arms curl over my shoulder blades and her legs straddle my hips as she clings to me. My arm curls under her bare ass. Water runs down her hair and soaks into my shirt.

Slowly, I trudge back across the bathroom. Her fingers dig into my back as she shivers. “It’s okay,” I murmur. “You’re good. Everything is fine.”

I carry her to her bedroom, and then set her on the bed as carefully as I can manage. Her arms cross her chest, her cheeks blazing red. Looking anywhere but that bare expanse of skin, I back out of the room and shut it.

Heart pounding, I rest my back against the door.

“Cedar?” she calls.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t really want to be alone in here.”

Resting my forehead against the door, I exhale slowly. It occurs to me in that moment, I would do anything she asked. With one more breath to steady myself, I turn the handle and slip back into her room.

Aurora stands by the dresser with her hand holding onto the drawer. An oversized shirt drapes over her frame, and she’s holding a pair of bike shorts. I look at the wall while she pulls them on. The bed creaks when she sits back down.

“So, um, that was weird,” she says, her voice sounding hoarse.

“Yeah.” I scratch the back of my head, ignoring how the room seems to sway.

“Did I just hallucinate, or did the house plants attack me during my shower?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“I don’t know what to do with that information.” She laughs dryly and presses her fingertips to the bridge of her nose.

Swallowing, I approach her bed and sit on the end, leaving a couple of feet between us.

“I think you should go talk to Hazel and Slate about it,” I offer.

When her amber eyes meet mine, they’re glittering with unshed tears. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” I say, louder than I intended.

“Seriously?” She waves her hand toward the door.

Her chest shakes as she fights tears. Wiping at her face, she sniffs and looks up at me. “She’s going to think I’m nuts.”

“Come on, I promise she will be understanding.”

Aurora takes my hand. She pauses to shove her feet into sandals, but allows me to guide her out of the cabin and down the steps. Her steps are shaky, and my vision narrows to her bright eyes and the feel of her hand in mine.

“So nothing is wrong with me, but you have to take me to see my big sister?” she asks with a sarcastic edge. The fingers curled around mine tighten. “That sure sounds like a problem to me.”

There’s no convincing her without offering some truth. I can’t share the pack’s secrets, but I can point out her truths.

“Do you remember the first day you helped me in the garden? Those radishes and carrots are almost ready to harvest. They look like they are several weeks old, not several days.”

“That can’t be right,” she mutters, shaking her head. Her eyes cast around the ground as if the plants near us might spring up to capture her at any moment.

“And did you see that a plant fell off the window ledge in Hazel’s room when she was having the baby?”

“Yeah, that was freaky.”

“The plant grew, like tripled in size, and that’s what pushed it off. All the plants in that room at least doubled.”

The quiet, “No,” she gives in protest sounds less confident.

“I noticed the wildflowers growing around my dad’s cheese kitchen and around Heath’s house have gotten massive in the last few days.”

She spins and looks over the cabin. “Looks the same to me.”

“After Hazel had the baby, she asked Sable about the house plant falling. She thinks you are a witch.”

Even her breathing stops. Aurora is a statue. Her hand pulls me to a stop so I turn and put an arm around her. Her eyes stare straight ahead. I take a loud, slow breath, trying to encourage her to breathe. Finally she does, sucking in air to say, “Are you kidding me?”

I can feel her pulse in her fingers and where our wrists touch. Shaking my head to clear my focus, I try to explain. “No. Apparently there are some green witches in your family line way back generations ago.”

Aurora shudders as she lets out a hysterical laugh. “I’m, what, flinging around plant magic? I’m sorry, I’m not that delusional.”

“Vines just trapped you in the shower and I had to cut you out with a butcher’s knife.”

“That was a chef’s knife,” she corrects, her voice going up an octave.

“I’m not sure what other proof you need.” Frustration overwhelms me.

“Are you saying this was my fault?” she snaps, getting louder. It feels like a physical blow.

“I wasn’t saying you intentionally grew them,” I say, trying to deescalate her. My head is pounding. The squeeze of her fingers starts to sting.

“So these inexplicable things keep happening and it’s all because of me because I’m some kind of monster.”

“No!” I don’t mean to yell.

Aurora rips her hand from mine and takes a step back. Her eyes narrow in accusation. “I don’t even know what you want me to believe!”

“Just wait and listen,” I say, my voice growling.

“Your eyes…” Aurora stares, her lips parting in shock. I drop my gaze to the dirt and duck my head, but she isn’t deterred. “No, I knew I saw Hazel’s eyes glowing and your eyes are doing it too right now!”

“Listen!” I say, my hands clenching into fists.

“You want me to think I’m sort of witch, but then you’re acting all freaky! I know you’re lying to me. I can feel it.” She’s yelling, throwing her hands out dramatically.

I can’t handle it. My pulse thrums in my ears and my skin prickles. I drag my nails down my arms, trying to quell the irritating hum increasing throughout my muscles, aching my bones. Anger flickers in the corners of my mind, the wolfish side of me bringing out baser emotions. Stress narrows my vision until she is all I can see.

When I try to step forward, my ankle catches on plants that have grown up and twisted around me. Their hold is so tight, I pitch forward and throw my hands out to catch myself.

My shifter instincts win out over the yelling in my head. One instant I’m a clumsy human falling, and the next second I’m a reddish-blonde wolf landing on four paws with the shreds of clothes drifting around me.

Aurora lets out a scream so intense, my ears pop. Her hands clench into fists before she turns and starts sprinting through the trees.

I should run to get Hazel or Heath. What I really shouldn’t do is chase her. So of course that’s exactly what I do.

Predator instincts kick in and I’m racing after her before I can stop myself. The floral scent mingling with the chemicals of paint, something so uniquely Aurora, overwhelms my senses. I’m going to catch her.

My tail whips behind me. I catch every movement, the way branches bend as if they’re reaching for her even after she’s passed, the churn of dirt under her bare feet. Her flip flops flew off as soon as she took off running. She’s fast, but I’m faster. I close the distance in seconds.

My ears swivel, taking in the sound of her footfalls. My pace slows, allowing me to approach without spooking her. The clever girl must know she can’t outrun me, so she tries hiding, but with her scent imprinted in my brain, there is no escape for her.

Muzzle to the ground, I creep toward the tree she’s tucked herself again. It’s a towering cedar tree, though my wolf brain doesn’t see the irony in that. She huddles against the massive trunk. The honeysuckle vines covering the tree’s roots have grown up to blanket her. Hundreds of white blooms open as I watch.

The sound of soft crying shakes me from my animalistic mind. With mental effort, I shift back to human. Now I’m the one embarrassingly naked, but there is no way I’m leaving her here alone.

“Aurora,” I call, crouching down to peer between the branches. The sniffling stops. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tentatively, I reach out and tug some of the plant aside. It curls back, revealing her head and shoulders. She’s curled in on herself. Her wet hair is mussed from her wild sprint.

“Can you come out? I promise I’ll answer anything you want to know. No more secrets.”

“Really?” Her voice is shaky, but I can tell I’ve got her hooked.

“Yup. Come on,” I say, slowly extending my arm to trace my fingertips over her shoulder.

“Okay.”

The plant loosens and she’s able to shrug it off. When she reaches out, I grab her hand and help her crawl up and out of her hiding place. As soon as she’s standing, her eyes flick down my body and back up. “So… you’re naked. Like really naked.”

A snort in expected laughter. “Yeah, that happens when you turn into a wolf.”

“You’re like a werewolf.” Her mouth parts, her lips forming a small circle.

“We prefer the term shifter,” I say, a growl under my words.

Her eyes meet mine and she looks in control for the first time since her shower. “I have so many questions.”

I bite my lip, thinking. I don’t want to make a bad situation even worse. “Are you okay knowing more? It’s a lot of dump on top of the witch thing.”

“Hey,” she says, holding up a hand. “Thinking about your freaky werewolf stuff is way easier to handle than the idea that I’m a witch, so let me have this.”

“If you insist. But are we going to have this entire conversation while I’m naked?”

“I’m good with that.” Her mouth curves in a devious smirk that I like far more than I should.

“Of course you are.”

“Is it bad I want to kiss you even after I saw you turn into a dog?” She whispers, like it’s a shared conspiracy.

“Hey, not a dog. Don’t say that.”

“Sorry, werewolf, shit, shifter!”

When she smiles sweetly and meets my eyes, I know we’re going to be okay. “Come on, I need to get some pants.”

“But look at that ass,” she teases.

“You really have a thing for asses, don’t you?”

“Just yours.”

When I glance back, her smirk wavers, her expression tense.

“I’m flattered. Come on, I’ve got some clothes on the porch.”

“Why do you have clothes on the porch? Oh, turning into a wolf, of course. I got you.” She follows me, muttering to herself. We thread our way through the underbrush and I find the path oddly clear. It only takes a few minutes to reach my family’s cabin.

While I tug a pair of sweats on, Aurora crosses to the swing. It’s a hanging daybed my dad made for my mom years ago and it’s loaded with pillows and a cozy blanket. Aurora wraps it around herself and sits with her legs tucked under her. When I sit beside her and push off the ground to send us swinging, she wraps an arm around my bicep and cuddles close, setting her chin on my shoulder.

It’s so nice sitting together, her warmth soaking into my bare skin, but I know we have concerns to address. “So what do you want to know?”

“Hazel’s eyes glowed.” She gets right to the point.

“That’s not a question,” I say, flinching when she glares at me. “Okay, yes, Hazel is a wolf shifter too. Your dad was too, and Heath is, obviously.”

“How many people here are shifters?”

“Everyone.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Her eyes widen, her mouth opening and closing for a moment as she processes.

“Nope.”

My steady demeanor seems to calm her, and she takes a few slow breaths. “Are you telling me I’ve been the only human here this whole time?”

“Yes, that would be accurate.”

“That’s crazy.” Her tone is quieter now.

I extract my arm from her grip so I can wrap it around her shoulders. Together, we sink backwards until she can rest her cheek against my chest. The skin-to-skin contact is comforting.

“Except I’m some sort of witch?” Her voice wobbles.

I throw my other arm across her, caging her against my chest. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t human. You’re just an extra special human.”

“Enough of that. Okay, so how often do you turn into a wolf?”

I can’t help the smile forming on my face. The matter of fact way she states it is so charming. Closing my eyes, I try to focus on my words and not the warmth of her body stretched out along my side.

“Whenever I want to. But honestly, I need to shift and go running every few days or I start to feel antsy. Pair that with some major stress and accidents are possible, like what just happened.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Her voice is quiet. “I was freaking out. I didn’t mean to upset you so much.”

Shaking my head, I squeeze her briefly. “No, I should have been fine. It’s my fault for skipping so many runs and not managing my emotions. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“I’m really glad it did. I could sense there was something you guys were all hiding from me. It was driving me crazy.”

“You’re very intuitive.”

“Or you guys aren’t as discreet as you think.”

“Do you know how often I had to hide my eyes from you? Especially when we kissed.” The words tumble out without much thought.

Aurora pushes up, turning her head to stare at me. One eyebrow slowly rises as she studies my face. “Really?”

Despite the nagging suspicion that I will regret it, I nod.

Her eyes search my face, and slowly she lowers her mouth to mine. I have plenty of time to stop her or protest, but I’m hungry for it. She knows who I am now. There’s honesty between us.

Her warm mouth brushes mine, and she comes back for a second soft kiss. It’s tentative, and I can’t help grabbing her jaw and holding her still so I can kiss her harder and deeper. Her lips part with a small gasp. I take the opportunity to nip at her bottom lip and she makes another of those beautiful noises.

She pulls back, blinking until her eyes focus on mine. “Wow,” she says, admiring the glow of my eyes. I can see the brighter blue reflect back in her honey irises. “That’s pretty cool.”

The pads of my fingertips feel rough as I drag them down her cheek and over her jaw. “Glad you like it, because you get that reaction out of me pretty easily.”

“Is that your way of saying you like me?” she teases.

When I don’t reply, she quiets. The teasing and kisses are just a distraction when there is so much unsaid between us. Like the fact she’s ignoring her newly discovered status as a green witch. But she can take her time. No need to come to terms with that many supernatural revelations in the same afternoon.

Her tone darkens. “Can we wait to talk to my sister? I don’t think I can face her right now.”

“Sure.” I shouldn’t agree, but I’d probably do almost anything for Aurora at this point.

“Soon. I just want some time to process.”

Somehow time to process turns into soft kisses and whispered reassurances. She licks the corner of my jaw and right under my earlobe, making my eyes roll back in my head.

Leaning back, she smiles smugly.

“You know when we were making cheese?” The need to explain sits heavy like a weight on my chest. “I stopped us kissing because you said something, and you didn’t mean it like this, but I was startled.”

“What did I say?”

“You asked me to mark you,” I say somberly.

Her nose wrinkles as she frowns at me. “I meant a hickey.”

“For wolf shifters, when we commit to someone as our partner, we bite them to leave a mark. That’s why I reacted to what you said.”

She’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “Is that the marks I saw on your brother during the scavenger hunt?”

“What did you see?”

“A circle of scars. I’m thinking it was a bite mark? Did Ember do that to him?” She tilts her head, a wisp of curly brown hair falling over her face.

‘Yes. They exchanged marks.”

Her next question comes hesitantly. “What about my sister?”

“She wears Slate’s mark and he has hers.”

She nods slowly, running her teeth over her bottom lip. “That’s why they don’t care about getting married.”

“There’s some magic behind it. They can feel each other’s emotions somewhat. I’m not sure how much, since I’ve never experienced it, obviously,” I explain.

“That must make things interesting .”

“We call them mates.” It’s important to me that she understands these relationships. “It’s just as serious as marriage, but with different consequences if you break up. The emotional bond can’t be severed as far as I know.”

“Then does anyone ever break up?”

“We aren’t built that way. It almost never happens. The only case I know of is when Slate’s mom left his dad, which is why he has two half-siblings.”

“What happened to his dad?” she asks, her brows furrowing.

“He died.”

“What?” she yelps, twisting in my arms.

My hand brushes down her back, soothing her. “Not from that, but the long-term stress of the betrayed bond didn’t help. We’re not meant to be separated from our mates.”

“It sounds serious,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“Yeah,” I say, tightening my hold and urging her to settle against me again. The soft sway of the swing lulls us into a quiet peace and I savor the feel of her melting against me. She lets out a small, contented noise. For a moment, I can pretend that she’s mine.

Aurora

“Oh, you guys look cozy.” Hazel’s voice jerks me awake. Cedar’s arms tighten around me, keeping me from tumbling off the swing. I’m grateful but simultaneously horrified.

In the past, I never would have cared if my sister found me with a boy. But this is different. Cedar is different.

With a sigh, I push myself up to sit. Cedar follows until we sit side by side and face Hazel. I feel like a guilty teenager. My sister props her hands on her hips and purses her lips.

Slate stands behind her, a smirk on his face and a baby carrier strapped to his front. The top of baby Timber’s head pokes out, wisps of dark hair curling in patches.

Cedar ducks his head and rakes his fingers through his messy hair.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Hazel, the disapproval in her expression keeping me from jumping up and hugging her.

“I’m fine,” she says curtly.

“Haze, you had a baby like twenty-four hours ago. Are you sure you should be walking around like this?”

Hazel ignores my concern. “I think we need to talk.”

She probably means about me and Cedar becoming some sort of item, but her tone irritates me. She’s the one who disappeared into the woods and became a wolf shifter and kept it secret. If she wants to discuss uncomfortable truths, fine. “Apparently I’m some sort of plant witch.”

Her eyes widen, but I’m not done.

“Not to mention, you turned into a werewolf and didn’t bother telling me.” Crossing my arms, I tip my chin up defiantly. Cedar tenses beside me.

Hazel gawks at me. Slate steps up beside her and wraps an arm around her waist. “Why don’t we go inside? She’s not wrong. You should still be resting.”

She lets out a huff and crosses her arms. Part of me feels viciously gratified, but moreover, guilt settles in my gut. I don’t want to be fighting with my sister.

Cedar holds open the door and ushers us into a quiet living room. Hazel settles on the squishy sectional, and I sit on the other side, not quite ready to let go of my annoyance. Slate and Cedar sit between us.

Biting my lip, I refuse to talk until Hazel breaks the silence.

She lets out a long sigh. “I’m relieved you know the truth, honestly. It’s hard keeping anything from you.”

It’s the best thing she could have said. I think the fact my sister kept such a huge truth from me bothers me more than finding out I might have some sort of magic myself.

Timber lets out a little whimper, so Slate unclips the carrier so he can cradle their baby and gently rock her. Hazel watches for a moment before returning her attention to me.

“We have rules about not telling people. It was dangerous when I discovered the truth. But things have changed, so it should be okay that you know. Even so, we should keep it quiet for now. And obviously you can’t say anything to anyone. Mom doesn’t know.”

“Of course!” I rush to assure her.

“How did you find out?” Slate asks.

Cedar stiffens beside me. I wet my lips, glancing his way, wondering if he would prefer to answer. He meets Slate’s gaze reluctantly. “She had some issues with the house plants in Heath’s house and I was helping her.”

“I got really scared and I was kinda screaming at him and freaking out.” I jump in.

“I lost control and shifted.” He rests his forearms on his knees, fingers laced together as he hangs his head, the image of a repentant man.

A cold silence stretches and I get the feeling this is a punishable offense.

“Maybe my magic did something to him,” I suggest. “It’s my fault.”

Hazel’s hand goes to Slate’s knee, as a silent exchange happens between them. He nods. “Perhaps we should have told you sooner. Maybe that difficult situation could have been avoided.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I gather my courage to ask the question simmering in the back of my head. “So if Dad was a shifter and you are, does that mean I am too?”

Lines form around Hazel’s mouth as she studies me. “No, we don’t think so. It’s really unlikely.”

“Wait, how can we know for sure?” Even the possibility sends ice through my veins. It’s terrifying and yet alluring.

“You’d start showing signs. Fast healing, hair and nails growing quickly, improved senses.”

Frowning, I lift my hand to study the small cut below my thumb. The scab has barely formed. No super healing here.

“This is a good thing,” Hazel says warmly. “It means you aren’t stuck here. If you were a shifter, you’d need to stay with us or join another pack.”

“Pack?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, that’s what this is. Why we all live together.” She sweeps her hands out.

“Like a wolf pack?”

“Kinda. It’s a little different, but that’s the idea. We’re built to live in community. Shifters don’t do well in isolation.”

“How does it work here? Is it basically a really close-knit neighborhood that gets furry together every so often?”

Hazel rolls her eyes. “No, there’s more to it than that. Everyone has different roles and jobs, and we all work together. Some people are protectors, like Lazuli and Cassia who you met.” The image of them watching me as I arrived flashes through my head. “And other people handle things our community needs, like how Cedar cares for our garden. His mom is a baker. Marigold is a teacher.”

“What’s your job?”

Hazel clears her throat, her eyes flicking to Slate. “We’re the Alphas.”

“Excuse me?”

Slate smiles, admiring my sister as she purses her lips, thinking before answering. “We’re the leaders.”

“You’ve only been here for like two years. How can you be in charge?” Heath’s words replay in my head, taking on a new meaning.

“Heath was Alpha for a long time. As his closest family member, I became his heir. And Slate was his Beta, or second-in-command. When Heath got injured, he decided to officially step down, but he still helps us a lot.”

“So it’s like a monarchy?

Hazel scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. “Not like that. It’s skill based, mainly. If I wasn’t capable of doing the job, he wouldn’t have made me Heir.” She tilts her head, thinking. “Not just skills though. A lot of it is personality. Almost power levels. How do I explain this?”

At some point, Slate gave Cedar the baby, because Timber’s chubby cheek rests against Cedar’s bare chest. He leans back against the back of the sofa, letting his steady breaths lull the baby back to sleep.

Something about his hands enveloping Timber’s tiny, sloped back and the way her little fists curl up against his skin, it makes my stomach flip. The thoughts in my head float away.

“Oh, Rory, look!” Hazel says, jumping to her feet. She snatches a houseplant off a table by the window and holds it up. The vines unfurl and lengthen.

My mouth falls open. As we watch, the sudden burst of growth fades and the plant stills. Only the tendrils reaching for the floor gently sway as Hazel holds the plant at eye level and stares at it.

“I think that resolves any lingering questions.” The pot makes a ceramic clink as she sets it back on the glass table. “Did you feel anything when that happened?”

“Um, no.” I look between my sister and the plant by the window, now still. “I didn’t feel anything and I definitely wasn’t trying to do that. Are we sure it’s me?”

“The seeds you planted, remember?” Cedar says quietly.

Pressing my lips together, I lean back against the sofa, mimicking his pose.

“Okay, so we have a couple of things to consider,” Hazel says. As she slides back into her seat, Slate wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her tight against him. The touch reminds me of how Cedar held me on the porch. My toes curl and my breathing goes ragged. That will be something to consider later.

“I don’t understand why I would suddenly start affecting plants out of nowhere.”

“You’ve never been in a place like this before,” she says, sweeping her hand out. “And being around all of us might have had something to do with it. That’s just a guess. I would have to ask Sable.”

“Right. So do you think it’ll go away when I go home?”

Slate shakes his head. “We can’t count on that.”

“It’s going to be a problem when I start making all the plants go crazy during a gallery show,” I say with an awkward laugh, pressing the heel of my hand into my eyes.

“You’ll need to figure out how to control it,” Cedar says softly.

“I have no idea how to do that!”

My outburst startles Timber. Her baby blue-gray eyes pop open and she lets out a cry. Cedar pats her butt, but she starts to flail her little fists.

“Here,” Slate says, taking his child back. He murmurs comforting words to Timber, but her little face screws up and she starts to wail.

Hazel reaches for her. “I bet she’s hungry again. Get ready for diaper duty, Daddy.” My heart warms at the way he gazes at her in adoration as she positions their baby and tugs her shirt up. As soon as she offers Timber her breast, the baby latches and the room falls quiet.

“Hungry girl,” I say, utterly distracted from the problems at hand.

“Alright, so, getting control,” Hazel says without looking up from her baby, “I’m not entirely sure, but we can ask Sable and Heath.”

“I suppose trying to get things to happen on command would be the first step so I can figure out what I’m doing to cause this,” I say.

Cedar nods. He turns in his seat, his thigh pressing against mine. “I’ll help you. You should come to the garden and practice. You’ve already worked some magic there, so maybe it’ll be an easier place to trigger more.”

“Thank you.”

“That sounds like a plan to me,” Hazel says. “Keep me updated on how it’s going.”

“Aurora,” Slate says, catching my attention. “We know this probably means staying longer. Let us know how much income you’re missing out on and we can help with your bills.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” I argue.

His vivid green eyes narrow and I stiffen. “It’s not a problem, and it’s best if you don’t go back home and have to work triple shifts to get caught up. The stress won’t help your situation.”

“Okay.” I can’t help but agree when he turns that intense scrutiny on me.

Hazel looks up from her baby and smiles at me, a little sadly. When she looks back down, her chocolate hair falls like a wavy curtain over her face.

“We should go,” Cedar says, his hand going to my thigh, just above the knee.

“But it’s your house,” I say, my brows furrowing.

“You guys are fine, you can stay and hang out or go,” Hazel says without looking up. “We’ll be out of here as soon as Timber is done with second breakfast.”

As much as I’d like to stay and watch baby Timber, the weight of new magic presses down on my shoulders. It’s been a day, and it’s only early afternoon. With that thought, my stomach lets out a growl.

“Let’s go get some lunch,” Cedar says, crossing to the door. He holds it open for me, and I move forward automatically. The way his hand goes to the small of my back feels natural, but I don’t doubt that Hazel and Slate noticed. Hopefully she isn’t too unhappy with me.

Cedar’s arm wraps around my waist, keeping me close as we head toward the diner.

“I’m okay,” I say. “Really.”

“I know.” He leans closer, speaking quietly. “I’m not under any delusion that you need me. You’re very capable. Maybe I just want to be near you.”

His words shiver across my skin, drawing me closer. It would be too easy to forget my magical problems and get lost in him. For just a moment, I lean into his warmth and let all my worries fade.