Chapter Twenty-Five
I took a deep breath as I knocked on the door to my own cottage the following morning.
I heard a faint rustle and the rusty click of a lock that didn’t work. The door swung open, and my mother’s considerably-less-tired-looking face poked through the entryway.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she greeted with that same sad smile, though it was a tad less heavy than the night before. “Come on in.”
I stepped timidly through the doorway, my mind still feeling conflicted over a woman I barely knew calling me pet names. But I knew how strong a mother’s love was – I practically felt it for my own sisters. And despite all those years apart, I would always be her daughter. Her child.
She wanted me to tell you that she loves you.
She. Loves. You.
I allowed my mother to take over my cottage for the night.
I cringed when I first led her inside and saw the blanket and pillow on the floor, sincerely apologizing for the lack of a proper bed.
My mother simply chuckled and reminded me she’d spent her entire life as a werewolf, and it was far from the first night spent sleeping on the floor.
And of course, with my mother sleeping in my cottage, I spent the night in Rowena’s cottage.
Specifically, in her bed.
My mind was still clouded, my stomach swirling with conflicting emotions. But sleeping in my beautiful witch’s arms, knowing we no longer had our secrets pulling us apart, was absolute heaven.
I awoke a few times during the night, as I had almost every night since I’d arrived in Wisteria Grove. So much had happened over the past few weeks, and my mind was still struggling to keep up.
But Rowena, being the sweet, loving partner that she was, always pulled me into a tight blanket-cloaked embrace and told me everything would be alright. As I nuzzled into her breasts, with her fingers weaving their way through my long red hair, I believed her.
And once morning came, I made a beeline over to my own cottage to check on my mother.
I wanted to make sure she slept well and was feeling better. But part of me needed to know that she was still there. That she actually was here, alive, and this wasn’t all just some stress-induced fever dream.
My mother led me into the cottage, which hadn’t changed much since I’d last slept in it. My few belongings were still tucked in the corner, with several bags of snacks plopped on the rotting counters and the musty windows slightly cracked open.
“It’s so clean in here.” My mother noted, admiring the old, warped hardwood floors. “Considering how old the place is. You did a wonderful job with it.”
Then a breeze whirled at my feet, and Aria materialized into her small, airy form. She let out a remarkably loud squeak for such a tiny creature and climbed up the fabric of my dress, eventually settling on my shoulder.
“An elemental?” My mother’s thick red eyebrows raised. “My goodness. That’s incredible.”
“I didn’t even know what bonding was.” I chuckled and patted Aria on the head. “She chose me anyway.”
“Because she knows how special you are,” my mother concluded. “And what a big heart you have.”
She paused, looking down at the stack of witch mythology books next to the blanket and pillow.
“I see you’ve been studying.” She gently tapped them with her foot. “You must know quite a bit about your witch heritage by now.”
“There’s still a lot to learn,” I replied. “There always will be.”
My mother nodded, her smile fading as she suddenly looked distraught again. I wondered how much she’d been able to learn about her own witch heritage. But if she had only been able to visit her now-deceased mother in secret, it probably wasn’t much.
She was silent, still staring down at the witch books, when I mustered up the courage to ask her a burning question.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I meant to ask…” I shifted awkwardly, afraid of the implications of my next words. “Do female werewolves… ever take other females as mates?”
My mother fought back a chuckle, but it came out anyways, a sly grin creeping across her lips. “It’s that half-werewolf… Duncan’s girl, right?”
“I…” I fumbled for words as my cheeks flushed red.
“Sweetheart,” my mother lovingly scolded, that sly smile still on her face. “I’m not blind. I saw the way she comforted you when the three of us spoke last night.”
“But… will the werewolves accept me being with her? I know same-sex pairings aren’t really part of our traditions.”
This time, my mother didn’t bother to hide her scoff. The disgust on her face was palpable.
“I mean, these are the same werewolves who said I was mad and tried to keep my heritage – our heritage – a secret,” My mother replied. “Times change, and some traditions are made to be broken.”
I smiled, and her unpleasant frown softened. I noticed the slightly wild, rebellious glimmer in her eyes, and I wondered if she saw it in mine. She was right. Werewolves were far from the only creatures out there, and our way of life wasn’t the only way of life.
There was a knock on the door, and since I was only a few feet away, I spun around and answered it.
Rowena was standing on the porch, looking beautiful as always in her lacey black dress and purple corset, with her black cape hanging ominously over her shoulders.
And next to her was Adrian, dressed in jeans and a comfy wool coat.
He almost looked human – if not for his crescent-moon earrings and the multicolored, polished gemstones hanging around his neck.
“Adrian was looking for you,” Rowena greeted, her eyes shifting from me to my mother. “Both of you, actually. Mariah is requesting your presence in town hall.”
“Oh.” A small bubble of anxiety formed in my stomach. It was time to formally discuss the events of the night before.
My mother quickly prepared to leave, lacing up her boots and slinging her borrowed cloak over her shoulders. We were all silent for a few moments as we left the cottage and ventured down the dirt pathway to the town square.
Stray maple leaves crunched under my feet, and as I looked up, I noticed the fiery autumn trees looked more sparse than usual.
I sighed. Fall was already turning into winter. Before long, the deciduous trees would be nothing more than bare, skeletal branches.
“So, I imagine you know why Mariah is summoning you all,” Adrian finally spoke as we walked. “But… there’s something I need to warn you about.”
I noticed Adrian was looking directly at me, and my throat suddenly felt very dry.
“Well, not really warn ,” he backtracked. “I just want you to be prepared for this, and…”
“Adrian,” Rowena scoffed. “Just spit it out.”
“Okay,” Adrian replied, taking a deep breath. “I just wanted you to know, Nettie… that your father and sisters are here.”
The dread that had been mounting in my stomach for the entire ten-minute walk to town hall easily tripled once the four of us opened the doors to Mariah’s office.
I had no idea how my father was going to react. He had always been a loving, compassionate parent, but he was also very set in his old-fashioned ways, and could be quite… austere in his scolding and punishments. And fleeing Hollenboro had to be one of the most egregious ways I’d ever defied him.
I was fully prepared for him to unleash a full-on tirade as soon as we stepped into Mariah’s office. Which was when he swept me into a full-body bear hug before I’d even caught a good glimpse of him, I once again wondered if I was dreaming.
“D-Dad?” I stuttered in confusion, but he didn’t respond. He just continued holding me as if letting me go would cause me to disappear.
To run away again.
So I stayed there, embracing my father, knowing he wasn’t always one for words and had difficulty expressing his emotions.
I didn’t need him to talk.
His hug was enough for me to understand.
Next to me, over my father’s shoulder, I saw my mother erupt into sobs as she held my sisters. She whispered their names, over and over again, telling them how sorry she was and how much she loved them. Just like she had said to me the night before.
“I was so worried about you,” My father finally spoke, and to my shock, I could hear the choking timbre of impending tears in his voice.
“Dad?” I asked, still wrapped so tightly in his arms that my still-healing ribs ached. “Are you… crying?”
He didn’t respond, but I could feel tiny, damp marks on my shoulder where his head was.
My father, the Alpha werewolf of Hollenboro, the staunchest, hardiest man I’d ever known, was crying.
I thought the moon would sooner fall out of the night sky.
He finally broke the embrace, and I stared at that familiar face I’d left only a few weeks earlier.
He had deep chocolate brown hair – always a mess in typical werewolf fashion – and a thick mustache accented by ever-permanent stubble.
He was yet to start going grey, but I could see his age in his rough, tanned skin and the lines around his eyes and mouth.
My red hair and pale skin were all my mother, but I could still see some of my features in him. Especially the shape of my nose and the curve of my jaw.
“I… I thought you would be furious.” The words tumbled out of me, and I cursed myself as soon as I said them. Why remind him that I committed a punishable offense?
My father stiffened, wiping the watery hints of tears from his eyes as he regained his usual stoic composure.
“Because I think you’ve been through enough.
What would I gain – hell, what would this whole family gain – from me being angry?
Besides…” My father turned toward my mother and sisters, who were still locked in their embrace, and his voice trailed off.
He was completely and utterly lost for words.