“Colin,” she whispered helplessly, turning to him and almost pleading for him to fix it, even though there was nothing he or anyone could do according to Rosalie.
He appeared heartbroken as well, anxiously grasping at straws. He leaned forward. “And there's nothing we can do about it?”
Rosalie shook her head. “The curse will be of no effect once the witch that cast it dies. Unfortunately, it does not look like it’s going to happen any time soon. Raven and her coven have been around since before my time even. And none of us have the authority to kill a witch.”
“God, Colin, what if we have kids? Are they going to be subject to this?” Faye couldn't hold back the tears anymore.
Rosalie handed them the ancient text so they could read it for themselves and said softly, “Only your youngest male child. Eventually, he will find his Promise but not after years of pain and torment. That was what the curse was supposed to cause.”
“Very well put,” muttered Nikolai dryly. “I'm sure that's exactly what she wished to hear.”
Rosalie turned her furious eyes to him, and he slightly inclined his head to her with a narrow smirk.
“Head Alpha.”
“You would do well to remember your position here, Nikolai Givenchy.”
Nikolai winced and folded his arms across his chest from his spot on the wall. Rosalie had commandeered his desk for all intents and purposes and had her booted feet propped up on his neatly organized papers, much to Nikolai's dismay.
“Why?” asked Faye. “Just why?”
“According to the text,” began Nikolai pompously, “which you are welcome to read, though I doubt you understand it, Colin's grandfather was a dastardly man and happened to piss off the wrong woman. The woman was Raven Bliss, a young witch just coming into her powers. She promptly used her mediocre powers and tried to cast a spell on him. It turned out, however, that he had a stronger witch as an ally.”
“She was your grandmother,” interrupted Rosalie, making Nikolai scowl. He quite liked telling stories. “Unfortunately, the poor woman was your grandfather's Promise. She spent the better half of two hundred years trying to curb his horrible behavior but to no avail.”
“Anyway,” interrupted Nikolai with a glare at Rosalie, happy when Colin and Faye's attention swiveled to him again, “she was stupid and managed to find a loophole in the curse where it wouldn't affect your grandfather and it would skip a generation because they were already bound together. Your father was your grandfather's only child and your grandmother managed to save him from the curse. You are the youngest son of your father, Colin. And voilá.”
“So, basically . . .” Faye's face was a mask of fury. “Should we have children? Our youngest son is going to spend the better part of his life feral, just like Colin, until he finds his Promise.”
Nikolai brushed imaginary dust off of his white sweater and answered, “Pretty much.”
Faye let loose a string of curses that surprised even Colin. She yanked her hand out of his and stood up to pace the richly furnished room. “May he burn in hell!” she fumed.
Rosalie sighed tiredly. “I'm sorry I couldn't bring you better news.”
Colin nodded. “At least we know,” he said softly. “My parents didn't have that knowledge.”
“Where is this Raven chick?” bit out Faye. “I'm about to kill me a witch.”
Rosalie bit back a smile and said, “I would love to help you. The hunt would be intriguing, but we would be in direct violation of the code. What Raven did should have affected your Promise's grandfather and only his grandfather. She was punished by having her familiar taken away.”
“But it never affected him!” Faye slapped her thigh angrily. “It hurt Colin. And me, dammit. And his family who thought him dead for years. It's not right!”
“She was punished fairly.” Rosalie shrugged. “If you ask me, the real person to be angry with is his grandfather.” She dropped her feet to the floor with a bang and stood. She grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair and shrugged into it. “I have to get back,” she said quietly. She took the ancient text and tucked it back into her briefcase.
“Wait, whatever happened to my grandfather?” questioned Colin.
Rosalie paused at the door. “Freya cursed him to an eternal sleep,” she said softly. “She was pregnant with your father at the time, and Archie was a violent man. She was forced to protect herself and give up on the notion that he would ever change. After she had your father, she lived for many years but was eventually killed by witch hunters during the Salem trials.”
“I never knew any of this,” whispered Colin.
Faye turned her attention to him and immediately went to him, taking his hand. She sighed. “Colin's right. At least we know what to expect.”
Nikolai clapped his hands together and said, “Now that that's settled, Faye, where's my cookies?”
Rosalie stared at him, not even bothering to hide the disgust on her face. “After what we just told them, you have the nerve to ask her that?” She shook her head. “Appalling.”
Nikolai winked at her and quipped, “Don't let the door hit that delicious derrière on your way out, love.”
Rosalie held up two fingers, barely a centimeter apart. “This close Nikolai,” she said, her eyes narrowed. “This close. Keep pushing me.”
Nikolai simply shrugged as the door closed behind her, his eyes lighting up as Faye tossed him the tin of cookies she had brought the overgrown man-child.
“I think we're going to head home,” she said quietly. “Thanks for having us, Nikolai, but I think we need to be alone right now.”
Colin heard the sadness in her voice. His heart twisted and broke into tiny pieces. He knew what she was thinking. He was thinking it too. And it pained him that his son would one day go through the pain and torment he was forced to endure.
It wasn't fair. To him or Faye or their future children. What on earth were they supposed to do now?
CHAPTER thirty-four
“So he's dead then?” Her voice was stoic, her face frozen into a cold mask of indifference.
Her sharp eyes wandered the expensive room, her gaze lingering on the portrait that hung above the massive fireplace. It was of the man she once loved. Time had no effect on her or on him. He was still the same—just as she remembered.
She was still the black-haired beauty with the arctic blue eyes that had garnered his interest. And he was still the suave looking man that had held her heart once upon a time.
Witches didn't chose their familiars. He had chosen her. And it had been so good while it lasted. Until his title was ripped from him. Because of her. She should have known better than to mess with Archie Byrd. He was trouble, and she knew that, but her naïveté fell for his charms. Hook, line, and sinker. He used her and then tossed her aside, much to her familiar's dismay and to her fury. Her ego was wounded. She had been stupid in trying to cast a spell far greater than her puny knowledge could handle just so she could punish him.
The end result? Chaos.
Her familiar was taken from her. Archie remained unpunished, until his Promise, a fellow witch, had finally had enough. Freya had been through hell and back at Archie's hand. Raven herself would have done far worse to the man had she had the chance. Simply cursing him to eternal sleep seemed too easy a way out.
No, Raven would have tortured him for a good while first. She glanced at her stepdaughter who was standing behind the oak desk. The woman was willowy and beautiful in her own right. And strong. She carried a sadness in her eyes that Raven understood.
“Thank you for letting me know,” spoke Raven quietly. “I would like to see where he is buried.”
Rosalie nodded and eyed the cold woman warily. They were quite similar in many ways: both favoring the color black and using that cold exterior to hide whatever they might be feeling inside. They wore a mask to guard themselves from more pain.
Rosalie sighed. “I'll have one of my aids take you to the grave any time you like. Y
ou are welcome to stay here as long as you wish, Raven. But I ask you to please stay out of my way and out of my affairs.”
Raven nodded grimly. “I see,” she said softly. “I won't trouble you further than tomorrow morning when I will be gone.”
Rosalie sank down into her massive desk chair that was clearly meant for a man and sighed heavily as the woman left the room. The weight that rested on her shoulders eased a bit. She had done her part—all that she could do to help Faye and Colin. Even going so far as to call her father's witch so she could pay her respects to his grave. Rosalie was tired.
Very tired.
With a yawn, she made her way over to the couch that was positioned against the wall and sank down on it, propping her feet up and feeling her back pocket buzz. She pulled out her cellphone and cracked a smile for the first time in days when she saw the image on the screen. Faye had sent her a picture of Emma. The little girl had lost her first tooth.
Tell her she's badass now.
She set the phone on the coffee table and closed her eyes after sending the reply. Seconds later, they flew open in annoyance as someone knocked on the door.
She could never get a moment of rest, she thought angrily.
***
Faye looked down at Emma who was proudly showing off her gap-toothed smile with every chance she got. It was early morning, and per usual, Emma was the first one awake. She had meandered into their bedroom and repeatedly bopped Faye on the nose until she woke up to giggles and smiles. Quietly, she crept out of bed with a grin as Emma whispered 'pancakes'. Emma's whispers were never just whispers. They were more like hysterical manic shrieks in a weird high-pitched tone. Colin had simply rolled over and hugged a pillow. When his arms couldn't find Faye, he let out another snore.
Emma wrinkled her nose at him and bounced into the kitchen. And that was where they were now, flipping pancakes and listening to Elvis Presley croon in the background. Faye was content, sure that the issue of the Byrd family curse was only just an annoying little niggle at the back of her mind. She could tune it out enough that looking at Emma and imagining a little girl or boy in the same situation calling her 'mama' made her smile.
She definitely wanted to have Colin's kids or children as he insisted on calling them. His horrified face when she announced that 'kids' was another name for children made her chuckle under her breath. The man had no idea how adorable he was at times.
A few moments later, Justin wandered into the kitchen, blinking his dark eyes open blearily and looking around for Emma. An easy smile settled on his face as he caught sight of the little fairy running towards him with pancake batter smeared on her cheek.
“Daddy!” she squealed as he picked her up and snuggled her squirming little body into his.
“Where did my cuddle monster run off to?” He growled playfully.
“Pancakes.” She giggled and tugged on his beard.
He chuckled and carried her back over to the stove where Faye was flipping the pancakes. “Ah, I see you haven't burnt anything yet! That's a surprise.”
Faye waved her spatula in the air warningly even though her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Shut up,” she warned.
“Ya, Daddy.” Emma giggled. “Shut up or no pancakes for you!”
Justin pretended to cry as he pouted. “But I love pancakes. And I'm so hungry!”
Quickly, Emma's smile faded to concern, and she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. “I'll save you some in my pocket,” she whispered in his ear. “Don't cry, Daddy.”
Faye choked on a laugh.
“Syrup and all?” questioned Justin, playfully eyeing Faye.
Emma hesitated, probably thinking about how sticky the syrup would be all over her favorite nightgown. Quickly, Faye butted in before she could answer. “No need for that, my little fairy.” She smiled, turning to set the table. “Justin will eat his pancakes at the table like the rest of us.”
Colin stood by the bedroom door, staring at the homey scene and feeling for the first time like he was intruding. He had never felt like that in Faye's house before. It was home.
So why did he suddenly feel like he didn't belong? He eyed Faye, watching her as she gazed lovingly at Emma, and a pang hit his heart. She wanted children just as badly as he did. Yet, he was reluctant to even try for a baby with what they had learned from Rosalie. Why submit a child to unnecessary pain that they could avoid?
He shook his head, backing away from the door. He couldn't stand to watch her laugh and talk with his brother anymore. They looked too much like a happy little family. Colin stalked towards the bathroom angrily before a realization stopped him in his tracks.
He was jealous.
CHAPTER thirty-five
Faye had noticed Colin was uncharacteristically quiet for the past few days. He either went to bed way before her and feigned sleep when she lay down or waited until she was asleep to come to bed. Every morning, he was up before the crack of dawn. If Faye didn't know better, she'd say he was avoiding her. So when she got home from work and saw him laying on the couch, fast asleep, she smiled. He was trapped now.
They needed to talk. Faye didn't like not being able to talk to him or share those cozy little moments when they woke up in the morning and he turned into the world's biggest teddy bear in need of cuddles.
There was a frown marring his beautiful face when she knelt down beside the couch. She shed her heavy jacket and kicked off her shoes. She frowned, wondering what was troubling him, enough that it was giving him nightmares.
He needed to wake up. Justin and Emma would be home shortly, and she needed to cook supper.
“Colin,” she whispered, “wake up.”
She pressed a kiss to his forehead, smoothing out the tiny furrow between his brows and running her fingers through his hair. He sighed as he relaxed and turned into her touch. He cuddled into her hand and mumbled under his breath.
Faye held back a sudden onslaught of tears, not even sure why she felt the need to cry. It was probably because it was the first time he had touched her in days. She bit her lip, shoved a strand of hair behind her ear, and crawled up and straddled his waist, her hands resting on his chest for balance.
“Babe, wake up.”
His breathing changed, signaling he was awake. Slowly, his eyes opened, revealing that golden gaze she had fallen in love with.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” she whispered, her voice soft.
With awakeness came awareness, and the frown was back. “What are you doing?” he asked as he gave her a cautious look.
“Figuring out what's wrong with you,” she replied bluntly. “But, first, I want a kiss.”
Before Colin could even protest, she leaned and captured his lips with hers, moving ever so softly, letting her lips say what she was struggling to find the words for. That she was worried about him, wondering what was wrong, and above all else, she loved him.
He groaned, his hands grasping her hips and his mouth molding to hers.
“Faye,” he groaned and pushed her back. “Stop.”
Faye sat up, feeling her heart plummet to the tips of her toes at the look on his face. Last time she had seen a look like that was right before her first and only boyfriend in high school broke up with her.
And right before she found out her dad was dead.
“What?” she asked thickly.
He shook his head and gently removed her from his lap. He swung his legs over the side of the couch and sat up.
“What's bothering you, Colin? What's going on?”
“Nothing,” he muttered, refusing to look her in the eyes.
“Bullshit.”
He shook his head again. He pushed his hair out of his face and slowly rose, but she yanked him back, climbing on top of him again and pinning him to the couch. Before he could speak or push her off of him, she leaned and pressed her forehead to his, just breathing in his scent. Her fingers locked with his, and she held their hands to her chest, pleading with him to tell her what was wrong.
&n
bsp; She felt like she was losing him. And that wasn't an option. She closed her eyes. She felt him relax under her.
“Faye,” he began, “I—.”
The front door suddenly opened, and Faye sat up quickly. She watched as Justin and Emma walked into the house. She turned back to Colin and watched as a shutter fell over his face.
He wouldn't tell her now.
She sighed and got off of him. She picked up Emma and helped the little girl out of her coat.
The door slammed behind Colin as he retreated to the bedroom.
Justin frowned. “What's wrong with Colin?”
Faye shrugged almost angrily. “Beats me if I know,” she huffed.
“Maybe he needs a hug,” offered Emma timidly.
Tried that, Faye thought.
She ignored the worried look Justin sent her and asked brightly, “Who's ready to help me cook supper?”
“Me,” sang out Emma happily, bouncing in Faye's arms.
“Alright then.” Faye smiled. “Go wash your hands in the bathroom, and we'll see what we can whip up.”
Justin leisurely leaned against the counter as Faye moved to the stove and contemplated their food situation.
“So, any luck today?” Faye asked.
Justin nodded, grabbing a cold drink out of the fridge and popping the top. “Yeah,” he answered, “we found the perfect one. It's got a room for Emma, and it's fully furnished. Not cheap of course, but I'm set for quite a few lifetimes before I have to work again.”
“Must be nice.” Faye chuckled and fished a pot out of the cabinet.
Emma dashed back into the room. “I'm ready to help!” she cheered.
Hours later, Faye climbed into bed next to Colin. He had eaten supper with them but hadn't said a word, merely responded with grunts. The only one he gave preference to was Emma, his face softening when his eyes landed on her.
Faye was getting downright annoyed. “I know you're not asleep, Colin,” she said sharply, facing his back.
Under An Alaskan Moon: A Shifter Romance Page 14
