Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
SALEM
Morning arrived slowly in the new house, pale blue daylight slipping through half-closed curtains and stretching across unfamiliar walls. The room still smelled faintly of dust, saltwater, and the rain that had fallen overnight. Salem could hear the water underneath them as it lapped at the pylons.
Tobin’s old place was now theirs.
A small house, no bigger than one room, really, built on the pier so very long ago as a nightwatchman’s quarters. No human stayed here long, though... Not back then, and not now.
“There’s something wrong with the water,” they’d say. “It ain’t right. Darkness lurks down there.”
All while Salem would sit on the edge of the pier, licking his paw, smiling to himself.
And now this place was his.
His and Aurin’s.
His sweet, sweet Aurin.
Salem had awoken first, and for a moment, he forgot where he was.
The ceiling was wrong, the window too tall, the water much closer than it had been in Aurin’s old room in the house he’d shared with Dylan and Hendrix.
But then Salem felt the warm weight against his chest and remembered everything at once.
Aurin was asleep beside him, one arm thrown lazily across Salem’s waist, face buried in the pillow. His blond hair was flattened on one side, his mouth slightly open in a way he would deny if teased about it. The blankets had slipped low during the night, tangled around their legs.
Salem smiled before he could stop himself.
They had spent so long apart that waking beside Aurin still felt almost unbelievable.
All those years alone—so, so many years alone—and then the past week or so, he’d been injured and then convalescing, so they hadn’t shared a bed.
Oh, they’d gone to bed together after the party with Cern and the forest folk, and they’d certainly made up for lost time...
Aurin had been so amorous from the honey mead and all the dancing, he’d all but begged Salem to take him to bed. It’d been so long, Aurin had cried. He’d missed his touch. He’d needed it. He’d pleaded.
Salem could never deny Aurin anything.
But this morning felt different. A new house, a new start. No more hiding, no more lies.
Salem felt as if a great weight was lifted from his shoulders.
He took a moment to enjoy it; this quiet room and the steady rhythm of Aurin breathing against him.
Carefully, Salem brushed his fingers through Aurin’s hair.
Aurin made a sleepy sound and tightened his hold immediately, instinctive as breathing. “Don’t move,” he mumbled.
“I wasn’t.”
“You were thinking about it.”
Salem laughed softly. “You can’t accuse me of crimes I haven’t yet committed.”
“I can when it’s five in the morning.”
“It’s probably closer to seven.”
“That’s worse.”
Aurin cracked one eye open at last, blinking slowly into the sunlight. For a few seconds, he simply looked at Salem, dazed and warm with sleep. Then his expression softened into something so open, it made Salem’s chest ache.
“We’re here,” Aurin whispered, like he still didn’t quite believe it either.
The words settled between them.
Here. Not visiting, not hiding. Not stealing moments before someone would see. No eye on the door. No hushed conversations. Just slow blinks and long eyelashes catching the sunlight, and a future stretching quietly ahead of them.
Salem touched his cheek. “We’re here.”
Aurin leaned into his hand immediately. “No more hiding.”
“You read my mind.”
“Yeah.” A sleepy grin spread across his face, and Salem couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to his forehead.
“How are you feeling?”
“Hm,” he said. “Dunno. Too early, too sleepy. Too...” Then Aurin made a face. “I don’t know if I’m hungry or still not one hundred percent.”
“I shall get you some breakfast.”
“You shall stay right where you are,” Aurin mumbled.
Salem laughed again, quieter this time, and pressed his forehead against Aurin’s. He could feel the smile lingering there.
For a long while, neither of them moved.
The daylight climbed higher across the bed.
Aurin traced idle patterns over Salem’s wrist, half asleep again already.
He watched the light catch on the golden strands of Aurin’s hair and thought about all the mornings they’d lost to secrets and hiding—all the ordinary moments that had once seemed impossible.
Now there would be coffee mugs left in the sink. Clothes left on the floor. Sleepy arguments over whose turn it was to cook dinner. Cuddling under the covers while the rain hit the window. All the human things Salem had never experienced.
A normal life.
Well, as normal as a life such as theirs could be.
“A swim before breakfast? Or food first?” Salem asked.
Aurin protested with a mumble.
“We have a lot to do today,” Salem said. “We need to bring all your things over and set up our little home. Get some groceries and cleaning supplies.”
Salem felt Aurin smile against his skin. “You’re excited.”
“My darling Aurin,” Salem whispered, kissing Aurin’s head. “I cannot wait.”
A quick swim first, to wake up, Aurin decided, and Salem was only too happy to oblige. And how easy it was to simply step out their front door and dive into the water.
Oh, he’d missed this water.
And he’d never tire of watching Aurin in freeform. The way he glittered, specks of gold and starlight, still stole Salem’s breath now as it did the first time he’d laid eyes on him.
He was the prettiest thing Salem had ever seen.
Aurin rolled his eyes and gave him a soft nudge. I heard that.
I tell you all the time you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
You’re a sweet talker. He coiled one arm around one of Salem’s and glanced up at the surface. Okay, now I want food.
Salem chuckled as they pushed up to the pier. They dried off quickly before redressing in the same clothes they wore yesterday, and then they headed to Aurin’s old place. Aurin was clearly surprised to see Kellan in the kitchen.
“Oh,” he said. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Kellan said. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Hm,” Aurin said. “We came over because there’s nothing in our new place. I’ll clear out my room here today.”
“No rush,” Kellan said, then nodded to the kitchen. “Make yourselves some breakfast. Coffee, toast, fruit. I think Dylan has some cereal in the cupboard.”
“Thanks.”
“Aurin, is that you?” Dylan called out before appearing in the hallway. His face lit up when he saw Aurin and Salem. “Still not used to seeing you in human form,” he said to Salem. “You’re very tall.”
“Yeah, we’ll need to get him some clothes,” Aurin said. “Now he can be human more than cat. These pants from the faun, while much appreciated, are not really your style.”
Dylan came over and gave Aurin a quick hug. “We have a lot to catch up on,” he said, giving a pointed glance at Salem.
“Uh, yes, we do,” Aurin said, nodding to Kellan, who blushed, and then Hendrix, who came out of the hall. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Hendrix was holding some folded fabric, and he put it on the table and spoke to Salem. He must have heard Aurin before. “These should fit you,” he said. “We’ll get you some more, but it’s a start. Anything else you need, just let us know.”
“Thank you,” Salem said, touched at how they’d included him so easily. “I do so appreciate it.”
“Here, have some toast,” Kellan said, sliding a plate onto the table. “Salem, do you have any preferences?”
“Ah, not particularly,” he said, trying to be polite. “I’m grateful for anything.”
Aurin pulled Salem over to the small dining table, sat him in a chair, then promptly sat on his lap. “He likes most things,” Aurin said.
“Like cheese and sardines,” Dylan said with a cheeky smirk. “You ate that a lot.”
Salem laughed. “I did. I do like both of those, and I appreciated it every time.”
Dylan sat on a chair, folding one leg up under himself. “Weren’t you tempted to be human and, like, raid the fridge or something?” He asked. “Have some leftover pizza or make yourself some toast?” He quickly spread some Vegemite on a slice of toast and took a bite.
Aurin spread some peanut butter on a piece and offered Salem a bite first. “He loves peanut butter,” he declared.
Salem smiled as he chewed and swallowed. “I do.” Then he felt the need to explain. “I lived mostly on fish and molluscs for many years, so when humans first came here, I had cooked fish.”
“Ugh,” Hendrix said. “Humans.”
They all chuckled.
“Yes,” Salem agreed. “But with them came campfires to sleep next to. I liked that very much.” Then he added, “And not all humans were terrible. Sawyer was very kind to me. It was how I knew he was a good human.”
“How they treat animals when no one is looking,” Kellan said.
“Exactly.” Salem let out a sigh. “It says a lot about them.”
Aurin chuckled. “Unlike Ciaran.”
Salem glowered, and Dylan clapped his hands with a laugh. “Oh my god, what did he do?”
Aurin, still sitting on Salem’s lap, ran his hand through Salem’s hair, and explained, “He gave him tinned cat food, and when he refused to eat it, he put him outside.”
“In the rain,” Salem added.
They all laughed.
And laughed and laughed. Salem had to admit, it was funny. Now. It wasn’t funny then.
Aurin sighed and put his half-eaten toast back on the plate.
“Are you not hungry anymore?” Salem asked. “You need to eat, my love.”
He scrunched up his cute little nose. “My stomach is still blergh.”
Dylan sighed and melted against Hendrix. “Aww, he called him ‘my love.’ That’s the sweetest thing ever.”
“He is the sweetest thing ever,” Aurin said, leaning back and resting his head against Salem’s neck. “And I’m so glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”
Salem rubbed his back. “It is a relief,” he agreed. “I’m so grateful that everyone has accepted me. I’m sorry for the subterfuge. It was never about trust or dishonesty.”
“It’s okay,” Hendrix said. “We get it. Just glad you’re okay, that Cern could fix you.”
Kellan put a cup of black tea in front of Aurin. “Drink this,” he said gently. “It will help settle your stomach.”
Aurin picked it up and sniffed it before taking a sip and putting it back on the table. “Yeah, that’s not great either.”