Winter

by Reina Torres

  “I would be honored.” Celeste turned and her eyes met his over Lynnie’s shoulder, glittering with tears. “When we lost Josiah and moved to Kentwood everyone seemed so closed off. Every connection we made was a matter of good luck and timing and moments of goodwill. And yet, there were so many moments that felt as if the people as a whole were closed off to us.”

  “Not here, Celeste. You’re part of us. You have been since the moment you set foot in Mystic.” Samuel stuffed his hands in the pockets of his overalls as his shoulders rose up closer to his ears. In his wolf form he was massive and ferocious, but there he stood beside the women with his shoulders up around his ears, looking like a bashful young man. “You don’t have to worry about that here.”

  “Just wait until Spring, Celeste.” Lynnie’s voice was warm and full of love. “You and I will clear out the gardens at the cabin and create the Eden of your dreams.”

  Aaron saw the joy that passed between the two women and he kept to himself. Over the last several weeks, he’d tried and failed to begin the conversation he knew had to happen, but like all the times before, he had allowed the subject to fall to the wayside.

  He knew that she loved him. They’d shared their feelings for each other numerous times, but that was just the problem.

  Every time that they spoke of such intimate things and he failed to bring up the past, he felt as if he was undermining the foundation of their lives together.

  Aaron knew he had to broach the subject, but there were so many reasons why he’d avoided the conversation… still. The longer he had her in his life, his arms, his bed, the more he wanted to keep everything exactly the way it was.

  His bear hated the idea and wanted him to get it over with, believing that she’d never walk away from them.

  But the guilt was beginning to eat Aaron alive.

  And, it was the reason why he hadn’t yet claimed her with his bite. If she rejected him, if she wanted to walk away for the secret that he’d kept. He would have to let her go.

  He needed time to work things out in his head.

  That’s why, when the Fishers asked if Celeste could spend the day with them, he said yes in a heartbeat because he knew that the wolf shifters would protect his mate with their lives.

  While Lynnie took Celeste into the next greenhouse, Aaron quietly left and went on down the street to see another old friend.

  Wren’s hands were never idle, always working, and her works of art were as useful as they were beautiful. Living quietly in Mystic meant that for the last few decades, few from the outside world had seen her work. Her storefront was mostly a museum instead of a gallery of works. “Are you looking for something specific, Aaron?”

  He picked up a string that she had set aside. A few colorful pebbles from Mystic Lake were knotted neatly into the string, interspersed with smooth glass from the Moonstone Creek. Lifted into the light from her front window, it cast glowing arcs of light across the worktable.

  “This is pretty.”

  “Pretty words from you, Aaron Winter.”

  “If they were, they’re all I have claim to.”

  She tsked at him, but her gaze never strayed from her table. Her fingers darted here and there, turning things over, around, even upside down as she arranged them in lines. “You sound like you’re upset.”

  His bear grumbled at him from the darkness. “Confused. I’m confused.”

  Turning slightly in her chair, Wren’s silver hair shot sparks of sunlight into his vision. “We’ve known each other for most of our lives. I’ve never seen you confused. Irritated. Grumbling, at times. Lonely as well.

  “But since you brought her home, I’ve seen joy and hope building in you.” Leaning back in her old, wooden armchair, she tilted her head slightly to the side and narrowed her dark gaze at his face. “What happened, Aaron?”

  He looked out through the window to avoid her acute gaze. “Maybe I made a mistake in bringing Celeste here. I don’t think I’m ready to tell her what really happened to her husband. I don’t want to lose her.”

  “Hmm…” Wren had a way of humming that could be more eloquent than most were with epic poems. “I think you should have a seat, Aaron.” She lifted her chin toward the empty seat right behind him. “Sit and help me sort my stones.”

  His eyes narrowed at her, irritation bleeding through from his bear. The bear didn’t want to sit. The bear didn’t want to-

  No stones.

  The voice was loud in his ears.

  No sorting. Shift. Run. Roar.

  Aaron yanked the chair forward and both of them ignored the discordant screech of the antique metal feet mounted under the wooden legs. The noise also drove his bear further into his cave, grumbling in the back of Aaron’s head, but at least he didn’t try to shout him down again.

  Peering at the empty center of the worktable, he watched as Wren upended an old Danish Cookie container of stones onto the worn wooden surface.

  The different sizes of the stones falling against the side of the tin and then jostling among the others on their way to the table’s surface had the effect of rain on his tense emotions.

  The sound was nearly musical in its rhythm and as Wren smoothed her hand over the pile, shifting the bits and pieces into a single layer, Aaron smiled at the image of his old friend.

  If they had been thrown into the past, tumbled back in time, Wren might have been a soothsayer. A fortune teller with a penchant for enigmatic advice and a knowing look.

  The same look she trained on him as she began to sort the rocks into piles by color.

  “So, tell me why you’re worried.” The soft rhythmic clack of stones was like the hum of bees in the spring air. Or the rush of water cutting through ice in the thaw. “If you can’t find the words to explain it, how can you hope to find the answers?”

  He picked up a reddish stone and felt the smooth surface of it under the pad of his thumb.

  “If I knew any of that, I could figure it out on my own.” He heard the edge in his voice and hated the way he said it, but he just chalked it up to yet another thing he would be sorry for in the end.

  Pushing back from the table, he got up and began to pace across any empty floor that he could find.

  The silence that fell between them didn’t bother him in the least. Even the fretful pacing had his bear slowed to a stop deep inside his mind.

  When Wren pushed her chair back and stood, she did so with a lithe grace that would make women decades younger than her green with envy. Aaron watched her as she crossed the crowded workshop in a few strides.

  “I made this awhile ago. I didn’t know what at the time, but the patterns were so clear in my head that I could have sworn it was more than just my imagination. It felt like I was looking into the future.

  “Like I was looking at this moment.”

  She reached up and under her silver fall of hair and untied the satin ribbon she wore around her neck.

  As the thin blue ribbon slid free of her hair and dropped into her palm, he saw that there was a key tied to the ribbon. A metal key kissed with a patina created by years of care. With a quick twist of her wrist, the key sank home into the lock of the cabinet and a resonant click echoed in the space.

  The hinges sighed as she opened it. “I know now that I made this for her.”

  Aaron couldn’t help the odd tightness in his throat as he stood. “For Celeste?”

  Turning back to him, Wren held out her hand. A necklace spilled from her hand, falling through space until the weight of it tugged at the tips of her fingers. “Your woman, Aaron. She was born to be yours.”

  He opened his mouth to challenge her words, but she beat him to the punch in the same way she’d done a thousand times over.

  “Your woman.”

  “Maybe she could have been, but I think I’ve ruined it. I’ve made such a mess when alI I’ve wanted to do is make it work.”

  Wren’s smile was warm and gentle, but a little sad. “What aren’t you telling me?”


  Aaron let out a sigh and continued to smooth the pad of his thumb over the stones in the necklace. “It’s about how I met her.”

  The room went silent and he looked up. Wren sat at the table; her hands folded on the table in front of her. She looked at him with curiosity in her eyes, waiting patiently for him to continue.

  “She thinks I found them in their cabin, alone and snowed in. She thinks that her husband left after they fought.”

  Wren’s chin tipped down slightly. “And that’s not the truth.”

  He looked at his old friend and shook his head. “Not quite.”

  “What haven’t you told her?”

  That was the question, wasn’t it?

  “That I made him leave. That I’m responsible for his death.”

  Her eyes turned dark and sad. “Did you have a good reason to do it?”

  He nodded a single time, for that’s all the consideration that Josiah Olwin’s spirit deserved.

  What he’d done had been done in his need to protect Celeste and her cubs. There hadn’t been time to ask what she wanted. There hadn’t even been time to consider it at the time.

  His need had been to protect her life.

  Ever since then, he’d been worried about protecting her heart.

  And that meant protecting his as well. The last thing he wanted was to see Celeste turn to him with betrayal in her eyes. He didn’t think he could live through hurting her.

  Wren had remained silent since she’d last spoken and he wondered if he’d finally outstayed his welcome. He knew that Wren would never say it. She was far too gentle and kind to tell him to leave. Clearing his throat, Aaron stood and looked down at the necklace cradled in his palm.

  Held gently in his hand, tucked in half-shadows, the stones seemed to glow with an inner light that he’d only seen a handful of times over the years.

  The blue, green, and purple stones shone against the pale background of his skin, arcing and twisting colored light before his eyes.

  He could see the resemblance to the aurora and knew why Wren had given him the necklace.

  Swallowing on the rough knot that had formed in his throat, he held out his hands to his old friend. “You should take this back with you.”

  The blow came as a shock to both of them if Wren’s expression was anything to go by. She held up her hand into the light and stared at both sides of it before she lowered it to her side. “Goodness, Aaron. I’ve never struck you before.”

  What could he say? The statement was true enough. “No, you haven’t, little bird, but I did deserve it.”

  Her rounded eyes looked back at him. “Well, of course you deserved it!” She cradled her hand in the other and sighed. “But my poor hand.” Her voice held a slight pout in it. “I shouldn’t have to tell you what you already know, Aaron. You’re a better man than that.”

  He had a ghost of his smile back. “You usually tell me I’m a better bear than that.”

  She nodded, a slow and ponderous movement. “This isn’t about your bear, Aaron. You’re in her world and dealing with her heart. Find a way to be the man that she needs… the man that she deserves… or you may lose her.”

  Wren was likely the smallest person in the town of Mystic. Certainly, she was the smallest shifter that he knew, but her words carried the impact of a freight train.

  And he deserved it.

  His wrist still stung from Wren’s sharp rebuke.

  “You should keep the necklace,” he told her, “she might not want it from me.”

  When Wren reached for him, she had a gentle sadness in her eyes, but still, deep within her he could see hope like a light on the horizon.

  She folded his fingers down until the necklace was tucked safely into his hand. Then she set her hands around his and gave him a squeeze.

  “The necklace is for Celeste. You,” she gave him a wink, “are going to give it to her when you work out… whatever it is you’ve done. I have faith in you.”

  He ignored his bear’s ear-numbing growl.

  “I have faith in Celeste.”

  He saw a tear shimmer at the corner of Wren’s eye. “Go, Aaron. Fix this.”

  Leaning in, he saw her tilt her cheek up to him for a kiss and then he left her shop. He had a lot to work out in his head before he spoke to Celeste.

  He had to make it right, because she deserved no less than everything he had to give.

  Closing the door of Wren’s shop, he began to walk back to the Fisher’s home but ended up taking a rather long and grueling detour. He needed to work out his thoughts as well as the pent-up energy building up inside of him as he struggled with his demons.

  His bear growled at him.

  Demons. If it was just demons, he snarled, I’d eat them. And throw you the bones.

  He set his mind to ignoring the bear, but the longer he struggled, the more control the bear had over both of them and he couldn’t let that go on much longer.

  No, he couldn’t let it go on any longer.

  Turning on his heel, he headed back toward the Fisher’s home with a determined stride.

  Celeste couldn’t help the tight feeling in her middle. It had been such a shock to see Aaron return so early during her visit with the Fishers. It had been even worse when she saw the look that passed between the couple.

  They were concerned as well.

  When Aaron had taken hold of her arm, he had been shaking. It didn’t feel like fear… at least not entirely. She could feel his nerves, but she didn’t understand the cause.

  Did the Fishers? That thought had bumped around inside of her head for the first few minutes of the ride in Aaron’s truck. The bumps and ruts in the road jarred more than her teeth, it put a large dent in her confidence.

  Had he changed his mind?

  Yes, he called her his mate. He’d explained that a time or two, and she’d seen the mark on Lynnie’s shoulder. Seen the marks of several women in town.

  And she had none.

  And Aaron had not even come close to it when they’d made love.

  She kept her gaze on the road ahead, gritting her teeth on each bounce. Celeste knew that there were no speed limit signs in or around Mystic, but while she knew he’d never hurt her physically by driving dangerously, did he know how close he was to breaking her heart.

  Folding her arms about her middle, she forced herself to sit back and wait for him to explain. It was easier than forcing the discussion herself.

  When Aaron turned the truck off onto a dirt road an odd sensation settled over her, turning her skin cold and clammy. The dirt road tapered off and another arm branched off. When they turned, she caught sight of their destination and she nearly lost the ability to breathe.

  “Why?” She shook her head. “Why did you bring me here?”

  He reached out to her from the driver’s seat, but she pulled away from him, tightening her hold around her shoulders, making it feel as though she was in a straight jacket. “I have to tell you, Celeste. I have to tell you what happened here.”

  She felt trapped in every way.

  “I know what happened here.” She heard the rising tone of her voice, the way it thinned. “I know because I lived it, Aaron. And I don’t care to do it again. Take me back.”

  Closing her eyes, she hunched down in her seat and waited.

  She didn’t hear the gears shift.

  And she didn’t feel any movement.

  But the soft click that reached her ears sounded suspiciously like the closing of a door.

  She knew she was right a moment later when her door opened and the cold slap of winter air cracked across her cheek. Soothed a moment later by Aaron’s warm hands.

  “Cel? Celeste? Look at me, please.”

  She wanted to be a petulant child and shake her head, refuse to go, but she wanted this over with and looked him straight in the eye.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to know,” he told her the words in a clear and gentle fashion, “that I didn’t jus
t find you after your husband left. I made him leave, Celeste.”

  “What? How?”

  “He would have hurt you that night.”

  “He did hurt me.” She remembered the crack of his fist against her cheek. “He was drunk and angry and I had never seen him like that before.”

  “And you never saw him like that again. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you or your children, Celeste. I couldn’t. So, I made him leave you. I took him away and he’ll never hurt anyone… not ever again.”

  He held her face in his hands, so gentle and soft despite the power that she knew his body contained. Enough power to kill a man and save her. And her children.

  “Why?” She wondered aloud. “Why didn’t you tell me what you’d done back then? Why wait until now?”

  “Back then the children saw me. They saw me take him into the woods and come back alone. They were scared enough, worn out to the point where they thought they’d imagined it and I didn’t want to make them remember the hell they’d been through. They had you, Celeste and that was enough. They had you and you have them.”

  The truth of her situation rushed through her like adrenaline, pounding through her veins and clearing all the cobwebs from her memories. “What I think you mean, Aaron Winter… is that we have you.”

  She lifted her own hands to mirror his gesture, gently cradling his face in her hands.

  “Is this why you’ve been so worried? You didn’t want me to come here and remember?”

  “I didn’t want you to see me as a killer, Celeste. I didn’t want you to be afraid of me. Of having your children in my life.”

  Her smile was almost a laugh. “And we’ve had you in our lives, Aaron and seen the generous soul under your gruff exterior. That was enough for us. And will be more than enough for me… do you still want me to be yours?”

  He bit into his bottom lip and she found herself wishing it were hers. “I don’t just want you, Celeste. I need you to be mine. Now… and forever.”

  “Then take me home to our house, Aaron. Take me home and make me yours. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  When they returned to the house, Celeste didn’t speak. She didn’t even try.