Chapter 6
The scent of drying herbs lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy hint of cold soil. Aura moved through her cottage with purposeful strides, carefully wrapping jars and satchels, her fingers moving on their own while her mind tangled with frustration and grief.
Two women had already tried to reach her cottage since sunrise, one nearly being successful before being hauled off by one of the three guards Declan had posted at her home last night.
The other had pretended to be injured until Aura stepped outside, only to lunge toward the door with wild eyes and a screech of “You can’t have him, witch! ”.
Declan had taken no more chances.
The two largest warriors he could summon now stood outside her home, flanking the door like stone sentinels. Their added presence made her cottage feel like a cage.
“I never asked for this,” she muttered, tucking her seed pouch into a cloth sack.
Late autumn had already turned much of her garden brittle and brown, the vibrant life of summer curling at the edges. She paused at the window, looking out at what remained, what she had so carefully tended with her own two hands.
She was already missing it and hoped it would not be long before she could return.
She would take what she could, the heartier plants, still rooted, still clinging to life. Declan had promised her a garden. A larger one, even. But it wouldn’t be the same.
Not like this had been. She had worked hard to cultivate the garden since her arrival here three years ago. A start to a fresh life for herself, away from her ever-demanding mother, so she could do what she loved. Immerse herself in plants, nature itself, and gain knowledge.
She turned away from the window to get back to finish gathering her belongings and take her leave, her heart aching.
Outside, Declan stood at the edge of the garden, arms crossed as he studied the beds.
He knew Aura loved this place. And though she hadn’t said a word of protest, he could see the hurt in her eyes and feel her loss like a squeeze to his chest. It disturbed him that she should suffer because of him, yet he admired her bravery to do so.
He turned slightly, scanning the trees. Something caught his attention, a movement of sorts. He could see it just beyond the bramble.
Then he heard it… the faint voice of a woman.
He frowned. Another fool lass creeping through the woods?
He stepped off the path and followed the sound into the trees.
“Aura…” the voice whispered.
He paused and demanded, “Who goes there?”
No answer came.
Clouds rushed overhead, blotting out the sun in a sudden sweep. The wind stilled, and a strange hush blanketed the trees. A figure stepped from the shadows… tall, cloaked in black, her face hidden in the hood’s depths. But he felt her… cold, old, and powerful.
“You’re a fool,” the witch said, her voice sounding like wind whispering through dead branches, “if you think you can rid yourself of a wish so easily.”
Declan’s hand went to his sword. “You did this to me.”
“I gave you what you asked for,” she said with a grin he couldn’t see but could feel. “You asked for women to fall at your feet. I granted it.”
“It’s a curse.”
“It’s your truth,” she hissed. “One you were too proud to see coming.”
He took a step toward her. “I’ll undo it. One way or another.”
She laughed, the sound hollow and cruel. “And do you think marrying the one woman who does not fall at your whim will break it? You have much to learn.”
He said nothing.
The shadows around her seemed to rise like smoke.
“Your marriage will be forever, Declan MacCrone,” she whispered.
“Do you curse me again?” he demanded.
She cackled. “That is up to you.”
Then, like mist on the moor, she vanished.
The wind returned all at once, rustling the colorful leaves and breaking the stillness.
Declan stood alone in the woods, the weight of her words pressing down on him like stone. Then he turned. He had to tell Aura about this.
He hurried to the cottage, and without a knock to announce him, opened the door, leaves falling off his cloak as he crossed the threshold. The warmth inside was a sharp contrast to the chill that still clung to his skin.
Aura was kneeling by a wooden crate near the hearth, carefully wrapping one of her clay pots in linen. Her movements were precise, but he could see the tightness in her jaw, the way she blinked a little too often to hide the gloss in her eyes.
He disliked disrupting her life like this, but he didn’t have much choice now since he placed her life in danger. And the sooner he could correct it, the sooner she could get her life back.
He was about to tell her about the witch and stopped. Instead, he asked, “Do you need help with anything?”
Her hands stilled for a moment before she nodded. “You can carry this out when I’ve finished wrapping it.”
He crouched beside her, gently taking the next pot from the floor and rolling it in cloth without saying a word.
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Not the strained kind, but something softer like the quiet that settles after a storm has passed, even if more clouds hang on the horizon.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last, his voice low.
Aura looked at him, her brows drawn. “For what?”
“For this. For uprooting you.” He glanced around the small space, her empty shelves that once held crocks of all sizes, her empty baskets once filled with roots and plants, the drying bundles of herbs that once hung from the beams now resting on the table waiting to be whisked away to a new home.
“This place… it’s yours. And I’ve forced you to leave it behind. ”
She sat back on her heels, exhaling slowly. “You didn’t force me. Circumstance did.”
“Then I’ll make this promise,” he said, turning fully toward her. “I will keep you safe until the day you can return to this cottage. To your garden. To your quiet life. And I swear, no one will ever take that from you again.”
Aura stared at him for a moment, then a soft smile broke slowly across her face. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
Her smile struck him hard, almost like an arrow to his chest. It wasn’t that it changed her plain features, it was the truth in her words.
She was genuinely grateful. He had found that most women said one thing and meant another or that their words were meant to appease and nothing more. Her honesty was refreshing.
He rose first, offering his hand. “All will turn out well, Aura. I will make sure of it.”
The confidence in his voice gave her confidence. She would get her life back and that brought her great relief. She reached out and took his hand.
His fingers closed around hers, not with the heat of passion, but with the strength of promise and trust.
“I’ll have the men put your belongings in the cart,” he said, and snatched her cloak off the chair at the table. “There is something I need to tell you.” He lowered his voice. “The witch was in the woods.”
“You saw her?” she asked, as he released her hand and draped her cloak over her shoulders.
Declan nodded. “In the woods just beyond your garden. I thought it was another woman come to find you, but the moment I stepped beyond the trees, the air changed. It grew colder and stilled as if it were holding its breath. Then she appeared.”
Aura turned slowly. “What did she say?”
“She said I was a fool if I thought I could be rid of my wish so easily. And she laughed…” His jaw clenched. “Laughed at our marriage, as if it were some kind of jest.”
Aura’s brow furrowed, her thoughts already spinning.
“That confirms it, then. She’s real and powerful.
This isn’t a trick of coincidence or fate.
It is a crafted curse, bound by something intentional.
” She was quiet for a moment, then said, “We need to find her. Speak to her again and understand the rules she’s bound it with. ”
Declan arched a brow. “You would willingly go looking for her?”
“She granted the wish,” Aura said simply. “She can unmake it.”
Declan realized then how lucky he was to have found Aura. She was the woman he needed, the woman he’d been looking for. She would help him solve this. He could feel it deep in his bones.
“Let’s get this in the cart and be on our way,” Aura said. “There is more we need to discuss.”