Chapter 7
The fire burned strong in the hearth, keeping the cottage snug with warmth.
Fawn sat on the edge of her bed, her cloak still around her shoulders, her thoughts circling like restless crows.
Sprig lay curled in a ball on the blankets, his tiny body rising and falling in deep sleep, his soft purr a faint comfort against the storm raging in her mind.
Rhodes’s words echoed still. “You have until tomorrow.”
Her fingers twisted in the folds of her tunic as she whispered aloud, “What am I to do?”
The door creaked open.
Fawn’s head snapped up, startled, then stilled when she saw who entered.
Her mum.
The woman stood framed in the doorway, the hood of her dark cloak drawn back, her eyes sharp and determined. She closed the door behind her and stepped into the glow of the fire, her presence filling the small cottage as surely as Rhodes’s had filled the Great Hall.
Her mum, Theodora, was not only a powerful woman… she was a witch. Something Fawn made sure never to mention.
“You will not wed him,” Theodora said without preamble, her voice edged with command.
Fawn stood, all too familiar with her mum’s demanding ways. “What was that you ordered me not to do?”
“You heard me.” Theodora’s eyes narrowed. “I forbid it. I will not see you bound to Rhodes of Clan MacBrair. He is dangerous.”
Fawn folded her arms across her chest, taking a defiant stance. “Strange, you think to decide this for me just as he does? You’ve no right, neither of you do.”
“I have every right,” her mum snapped. “I granted his wish, foolish as it was. And it has gone wrong. There is no stopping him now. Removing the wish would do no good, his power has taken root.”
Fawn didn’t hide her surprise. “You meddled in his life? And mine as well?”
“I did not meddle. He made a wish, and I granted it. It worked out well enough for your sisters,” Theodora said, her voice softening but no less firm. “Ingrid is content. Aura is safe. Both are wed to strong men, men who will keep them secure. And you—”
Fawn’s heart caught, stealing a beat at the implications of her mum’s actions. “You did this… to find us husbands?”
Theodora’s chin lifted. “I did what was best. I know what is best for my daughters.”
“So, you think what is best for me and my sisters is to not allow us to choose for ourselves?” Fawn asked, annoyed.
“Your sisters’ marriages worked out well enough. Do not be a stubborn fool and defy me on this,” Theodora said, her tone brooking no argument. “What do you think he will do when he discovers your true heritage? Embrace you?”
A sudden thought had Fawn wrinkling her brow. “Did you make a mistake, Mum?”
“Do not be ridiculous,” Theodora scoffed with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “I am never wrong.”
“I am sure Da would have something to say about that.”
“Your father had nothing to do with this. It was all my doing,” Theodora said.
“Does Da know what you’ve done?” Fawn asked with a slight grin.
“Of course he does,” Theodora snapped.
“And was it out of necessity he was informed?”
“Enough, Fawn. Do not wed Rhodes,” Theodora ordered.
Fawn tapped her head. “You got me thinking, Mum. With Ingrid and Aura content, as you say, then I can only assume their husbands know they are witches, leaving them unburdened by the secret. So, why change your mind about Rhodes, the man you chose as a husband for me?”
Theodora scowled. “He is too powerful, and you, as you are proving this very moment, are far too stubborn. It is not a good pairing.”
Fawn shook her head. “You should have learned by now, Mum, that I do as I please.”
A long moment of silence stretched between them before Theodora spoke, “Pay heed to my word, daughter, or you will regret it.”
“Is that a threat, Mother?” Fawn challenged.
“A prediction, daughter, a prediction,” Theodora warned and without another word, she turned and swept from the cottage, the door closing hard behind her with a strong snap of her hand.
Fawn sank down on the bed, her hand going to stroke Sprig’s soft fur as her thoughts reeled.
Rhodes commanded she wed him.
Her mother commanded her not to.
Her heart twisted and her mind was in turmoil.
Prediction.
Her mum was known more for her dramatics than her predictions, leaving Fawn wondering what she should do. What was truly best for her?
Sprig stirred, stretching and giving a small, questioning mewl before curling into a ball in the blankets.
She smiled, wishing she felt as content as the kitten. She stood, needing to keep herself busy so she would not overthink her situation and get nowhere with it. Crossing to the hearth, she fetched a small basket of scraps.
The fox, curled on his blanket near the fire, lifted his head, ears pricking.
“Hungry, are you, Ash?” she asked, smiling softly as she set the food before him.
He nosed eagerly at it, and Fawn crouched to stroke his sleek fur, her heart easing as he settled back to eat.
Any animal spending time in her cottage got a name. The fox was Ash and the owl overhead, shifting on the rafters, was Sage.
Hearing feathers rustling softly, Fawn glanced up. “Here you go, Sage.”
She offered a scrape of meat, and the owl took it gently from her hand.
A pair of doves cooed quietly on an opposite rafter, and after snatching a small piece of wool from a basket, she tucked it in their nest.
“Added warmth for the winter, Bramble and Willow,” she said softly.
Lastly, she paused by the basket where the raven rested, lifting the cloth gently to peer in. He blinked up at her, still fragile but alive.
“You’ll grow stronger by the day,” she whispered, “and fly again.”
Sprig rose to greet her when she returned to the bed. She scooped him up, pressing her cheek against his fur.
“I don’t know what to do, Sprig,” she whispered. “They both think they know what’s best for me. But I—” She broke off, her throat tight. “I don’t even know what I want. Only that I won’t be told, commanded.”
Sprig purred, steady and sure, as though lending her courage. She held him close, drawing strength from his warmth. She would find her own way… she must.
The forest stood hushed beneath the moon, the ground touched with a thin veil of frost that glittered faintly in the silver light. Theodora drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her breath rising in white clouds as she stared through the trees toward her daughter’s cottage.
Her heart twisted with unease. She had spoken firmly, had commanded as she always had, but for the first time, doubt gnawed at her. Fawn was unlike her sisters. Fierce, stubbornly independent, unwilling to bend even when reason dictated she should.
What if she chooses wrong?
“What did you do, Theodora?”
The voice, while smooth, held strength. She turned sharply, her cloak’s hem whispering against the frozen leaves.
Her husband stood in the shadows of the trees, tall and lean, his silver hair falling past his shoulders, his gray eyes piercing even in the dim light. His presence carried the same quiet strength it always had, a stubborn steadiness that unsettled her now more than ever.
Her throat tightened. “Artemis.”
He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on her, concerned. “What did you do?”
For a long moment she could not speak. Then the words tumbled out, low and heartfelt. “I made a dreadful mistake. I thought to protect her… as I did Ingrid and Aura. But with Fawn—” She broke off, shaking her head.
His eyes narrowed. “What mistake?”
Theodora swallowed hard, glancing toward the distant glow from the cottage. “I granted him a wish. A foolish, reckless wish. And then I—” She leaned closer, whispering into his ear, fearful of anyone hearing.
When she drew back, Artemis’s eyes were wide, his face pale beneath the moonlight.
“You have really done it this time, Theodora,” he said, his voice low with dread.
Theodora pressed her hands together to still their trembling. “I know. And I fear there is no way to make it right.”