Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Siobhan
It’s day three of me trying not to milk it too much in hopes Aury stays longer. Of course, I would have denied ever needing or wanting assistance, and I certainly never needed round-the-clock supervision, but once I got over the humiliation of needing help… Well, I quite enjoy having him around.
His scent is comforting, and he’s flirty and funny and so easygoing, it all but forces me to relax. I really should tell him I’m fine on my own now so he can go home to his cat, but every time I think about it, my inner omega gets ready to whine like a needy little monster.
So I don’t, and he doesn’t say anything about it either, and we sort of just continue… cohabitating? Apart from his trip home for toiletries and clothes, we’ve been spending pretty much every moment of every day together. It’s torturous at night, though.
I can’t stop imagining how he sleeps. Does he wear a shirt?
Light brown skin on display, sprawled across my guest room sheets?
What about pants? Nothing? Does he sleep on his back or side, spread out or tucked in?
Does he wake up with morning wood? He’s been sleeping in the room next to mine, and even that feels too far sometimes.
Like now that I’ve had a taste of sleeping next to him that first night on the couch, I simply can’t get enough.
My silly crush is quickly turning into infatuation, and I have no idea what to do about it.
His laugh is boisterous but not noisy, the kind of laugh you can’t help but smile along with because it’s so full of authentic joy.
He’s incredibly talented, and practicing tai chi with him this morning—when he decided I was healed enough for an easy lesson—was a practice in self-control.
I wanted to wrap my limbs around him and climb him like a tree by the end of it.
The truly bewildering thing, though, is his scent. Betas aren’t normally known for having scents like alphas and omegas do, but Aury’s is divine. Subtle but sweet, with a tiny hint of spice, like the last warm afternoon of autumn before the chill of winter sets in.
And somehow, for three days now, he’s convinced me to stay home. While I did some filming in the backyard and completed my scheduled tarot readings, I haven’t felt the itch to go out and make content or stay on top of my social media as much as I usually do.
Unfortunately, that means the messages have been piling up.
I’m swiping through notifications now, trying to catch up, while Aury attempts to cook.
My heart melts when I glance up to see his thick brows slightly pinched as he watches a few seconds of a video, then turns back to the stove to follow the instructions.
I’ve never had someone so intent on doing something for me before, but he’s insisting that frozen meals aren’t good enough for me—despite admitting that that’s what he normally eats, too.
He also won’t let me help, even though we’re at my house.
Part of me chafes at the overbearing attitude. Part of me loves having someone care. Someone who wants to take care of me.
Ridiculous man.
I go back to my phone with a smile, but it quickly falls at the number of times I’ve been tagged on a specific video.
It’s a newer influencer on the witchy web who went viral a couple months ago, and since then her following has exploded.
She’s more on the spell and practitioner side of the witch world, as opposed to the tarot and crystal side of things where I am.
I click to open the video, frowning when I don’t feel any particular connection to this person’s practice.
Normally, even if I don’t practice the same way as another witch, I can still appreciate their art. But with this woman? I don’t know. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and her expressions all fall flat. Something feels off about her.
The video I’m tagged in this time is a spell for warding off evil.
Not particularly nefarious, and in fact if it was strictly protective, it would be good.
But the way she’s doing it… I lean my face closer to the screen and squint, trying to see more clearly the ingredients she’s using and what she’s doing with them.
It doesn’t seem to match exactly with her instructions in the caption, and I hum under my breath.
“What it is?” Aury asks, and I jump, having forgotten for a moment that I wasn’t alone.
“Oh,” I say, waving a hand to dismiss it and turning the screen off. “It’s nothing, just another influencer video I got tagged in.”
I smile to show him everything’s fine, and he eyes me for a moment before returning to the pan in front of him.
I prop my elbow on the counter and drop my chin into my hand, admiring him and feeling thankful for this moment.
I might even admit to being grateful to my meddling friends for pushing me into this.
I suppose I did make them listen to me talk about him for the last two years, so it’s only fair they nudge me along when I need it.
I’m jolted out of my musings by a knock on the door—three quick raps.
Aury turns to me, spatula in hand. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No.” I shake my head and spin towards the hallway, about to stand to go answer the door.
“Uh-uh,” Aury says. He hands me the spatula. “You stay here, stir that if it bubbles, I’ll check who it is.”
He goes to answer the door and I take his place at the stove, straining my ears to listen. All I can hear is murmuring, then Aury pokes his head in.
“It’s the paramedic from your accident. Do you want me to let them in?”
The paramedic? I have a hazy memory of being in the ambulance with them, mostly it’s a feeling of how soothing and comforting their presence was. That’s the annoying thing about concussions. They affect your memory.
My heart starts racing for some reason, and I thank the Moon Goddess for giving me the good sense to put real clothes on today. “Uh, sure.” I tell Aury.
Then overwhelming Palo Santo with an undertone of rosemary hits my nose. Their alpha scent sweeps through the room and I have to grab the counter to avoid being knocked back a step.
My brain narrows to a single line.
Scent-match.