Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“Do you have a theory?”
“I do, and it’s a good one,” he assured me.
“I’m aging here.”
His husky laugh then that I loved. “Okay, so I think this room, and only this room, is a part of the cottage. And I know that sounds crazy, but I feel like some piece of it remains, and that sliver knows me and is working really hard to protect me.”
“That doesn’t sound crazy at all,” I said as he let go of my hand and squatted down to check the temperature of the water. “Something similar happened to me in the kitchen earlier.”
“Which means…we’re being cared for because this whole mansion is the cottage.”
“How?”
“It must have something to do with making Corvus, and our home, bigger. By expanding them, by having both take up more space, neither the land nor our home is able to focus intention like normal.”
“But why would he do that? For what purpose?”
“I don’t know. Ostensibly, he wanted to be a wealthy landowner, so he increased the acreage of Corvus, basically making certain that in our time, the neighbors on either side of us will never be there.”
“Which is awful.”
“It is, but also, your ancestors warded not solely Corvus, but those properties on both sides because they were your neighbors, and that was done to protect them.”
“Yes. And he made our sweet cottage a monstrosity because he wanted to live in a gigantic mansion—at least that’s what he would have us, and everyone else, believe.”
“But by altering both, he’s taken the power from both.”
“Not all of it, though,” I pointed out. “You have a safe space, and I willed a talisman into existence for a maid. The cottage is still interfering on our behalf.”
He nodded and then, after a moment, said, “Which maid?”
“What?”
“Which maid did you create a talisman for?”
“Oh, Constance.”
“That’s good, she’s a sweetheart, and I was fairly certain I was going to need to tangle with Giles sooner than later over her.”
“Not anymore. He’ll be repelled by her, but he won’t know why.”
“That’s good work, Xan.”
“I try,” I said with a sharp exhale. “All right, so what now?”
“You’re asking me for the answer?”
“I am.”
He laughed then. “I’ll get back to you.”
The tears were instant.
“Oh, honey, I’m sure we will—”
“I’m not sad that you don’t have a solution right this second. I’m just so happy to have you to talk to again. I missed you terribly.”
“Take off your clothes, Xan, and get in the tub.”
I stripped quickly, so ready to be clean.
“Jesus,” he groaned.
“What? I’m gross now? You don’t want me anymore?”
“I will drown you in the tub if you don’t take it back.”
I was snickering as I got in, but then moaned as the warm water enveloped me.
“God, you’re covered in bruises and scratches….”
“Yes, but at least the werewolf bite will not turn me into one, so nightmare averted.”
“Way to see the silver lining,” he praised me.
“Thank you.”
He shook his head at me, and all I could do was smile back like a simpleton.
I scrubbed, washed my body and hair, rinsed, and repeated. I missed my shower. I had never been a bath person, not much of a soaker, but Lorne loved them as long as he could shower first. We were of the same mind that baths were no way to actually get clean. But he’d borrowed a wooden bucket from the kitchen days ago and filled it up and then dumped it over me so I could thoroughly rinse myself. I returned the favor after he took his bath, dumping water on him a final time even after he’d said he was good.
“What was that?” he asked, raking his fingers through his damp hair.
“You look really good wet, so…let me do what I want.”
He laughed, all flirty and husky, and I got a towel for his hair and took my time drying him off.
“I miss that oil you cover me with after my bath,” he told me, his eyes warm as he stared at me.
“I miss it too, because touching you all over is one of my favorite things in the world,” I whimpered, my eyes filling.
“You’re about to pass out right here,” he murmured, taking my hand and leading me to the bed. “Get under the covers. I’ll be right there.”
“Come now,” I insisted, and heard the frustrated whine in my voice. I was being unreasonable, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“We’ll freeze if I don’t get a fire going. Get in bed.”
Argos leaped back onto the bed then—he’d been walking around a bit—and I saw the nest of smaller blankets Lorne had made for him. It was the semblance of normalcy, whispers of home, Lorne checking the cottage at night before he got under the covers with me.
But everything here was different. In this bed, the mattress was too soft, the sheets were silk, so they stuck to my damp skin, and the room was freezing, not cozy like the cottage, always protecting us, sheltering us. Usually, I could feel the nurturing in the very air.