Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“I’m glad we all reached out to each other,” Xander says. “There’s power in knowledge.”
“We’ll do the same again if anything else happens,” Jonas says.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” I say to Breena and Lucy. “For the Samhain celebration committee meeting.”
“Why did we agree to do this when we already have such full plates?” Lucy wonders as we all walk through the apothecary to the front door.
“Because we wanted a sense of normalcy,” Breena reminds her. “It might have been a bad idea.”
“It’ll be fun. We’re just on décor duty for the lampposts in town. Nothing crazy.”
“See you tomorrow,” Lucy says. “Stay safe.”
“You, too.”
I move to get into my car and frown when Xander walks around to the passenger side.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“With you.”
He folds his tall form into the seat, and I scowl at him after taking mine.
“You usually just fly away.”
“I’m sticking close to you.”
I growl as I start my car and pull away from Lucy’s, headed toward my cottage on the shore.
“I told you. You’re not staying with me.”
“I’m still sticking close by.”
“You have your own house. Hell, you even have your own car, although I bet it has less than five thousand miles on it, given that you just fly everywhere.”
“It’s maintaining its value.” Xander shrugs, and I decide to ignore him entirely until I get home.
Which doesn’t take long.
Pushing out of my car, I let the door slam behind me and stroll up the porch steps to my door without looking back.
But then I hear a meow and turn to see a black cat pacing in front of the car.
“You’re not going to sucker me into it.”
I turn, unlock my door, close it behind me, and get to work.
Walking along the shoreline is my favorite way to start every single day. Even before I’ve had coffee, I throw on one of my red cloaks and head out with a basket in hand—of course—and stroll along the sand and rock beach. I find things the ocean has left for me. Shells, stones, driftwood.
Today is no different.
I’ve collected some sea glass and several gorgeous shells that will look fabulous in the new terrarium I’m building. I sit on the log that’s been out here for as long as I can remember—my mother lived here before I did—and take a long, deep breath to begin my meditation.
For thirty minutes, I breathe and let my mind wander. I have a garden in my mind, one that sits next to the seaside, of course, where I tend to flowers, chat with birds and squirrels, and just let myself be.
I have thoughts of my cousins, and, of course, Xander. He is never far from my mind, despite how much I hate it. But today, it’s not thoughts of disdain or betrayal that rise, but rather humor.
I don’t like that I’m beginning to soften so much where he’s concerned. I should still hate him with every fiber of my being. I should want him to suffer. I shouldn’t trust him.
Yet Xander’s always been the one person in the world I trust above anyone else, even my mother, aunts, and cousins. And despite everything that went down, that hasn’t changed.
I would trust him with my life.
And so, during this meditation, I see Xander walking toward me. With a smile, he takes my hand and begins dancing with me on the shoreline the way we used to do. Before.
It made me feel safe, loved, and cherished.
Right now, I need to conjure that feeling. I wouldn’t ever ask it of him now, so here, in the safety of my mind, I bring it to the forefront and enjoy some easy time with the man I’ve always craved.
Finally, though, it’s time to let go. I take one last deep breath and say goodbye to Xander in my mind.
His dark eyes are sad as he walks away.
I open my eyes and look out at the sea. It’s stormy this morning, the water gray with white-tipped waves churning. It seems to match my mood.
Suddenly, I hear music.
It’s faint at first, as if coming from far away, so I narrow my eyes and cock my head, listening more carefully. I don’t recognize the tune, but it’s absolutely beautiful, and I want to hear more, need to hear it more clearly.
I stand and walk toward the water, so drawn to the music as it grows in volume and strength. It’s just so beautiful.
Suddenly, I feel fur beneath my fingers and glance down to see a black wolf staring up at me.
“Hey.” I blink rapidly, glancing around. The music is gone. My fingers absently stroke the animal’s thick, soft fur. “Did you hear that music? It was so pretty, but I don’t hear it now.”
I swallow hard, suddenly a little nauseated.
“Someone must have been playing over on the pier or something, and the wind carried it over here.”