“So I’ve been thinking about the cabin,” Alexander said the next morning. She was bent over a bunch of tulips, removing weeds, and had felt his presence before he spoke, so his voice did not catch her off guard. She didn’t say anything for a long time, just continued pulling at the weeds.
Alas, she plucked a tulip and rose.
He wore a tunic and breeches and reminded her of her father, whenever he wanted to go horseback riding,
“I see you strong and moving well, Blessed be God. And so tell me, what about it, Alex?” He nodded briefly,
“Blessed be God.” He said and rose a brow in amusement,
“Alex?” He asked, still somewhat amused. And for some reason, she was glad that she could amuse him.
She shrugged,
“Yeah. Alex as in Alexander. Short for Alexander. Has no one called you Alex in a long time… or at all?”
He smiled and shook his head,
“ Not in a while, I guess.” She just nodded,
“So what about the cabin?”
“I suppose if the offer is still open, I would like to move in. As soon as possible.”
For some reason, his words didn’t surprise her. Surprise wasn’t the word to use to describe what she felt. His words made her think, made her ask why he all of a sudden wanted to move out. But she felt no sliver of surprise.
“It’s still open, of course, it is. But is there a reason why you want this all of a sudden?”
“Nothing really, but I believe you had a life before I got here. I’m not your spouse, and neither am I your lover. You deserve your privacy.” His use of the word “Lover” made her blush, but she tried to hide the reddening of her cheeks, –which good easily erupt into the look of a tomato, seeing as she was a redhead– with the busying of herself with the sight of her tulips.
“You’re right. And I suppose you’ve had a life your own before you got here. And seeing as I’m neither your spouse.. nor your lover, I suppose you need your privacy as well.” She smiled sweetly up at him and was met with perusal.
Ah well, she thought. He could try to decipher her thoughts all he wanted, but she had no desire to show him how much she was getting used to having him around. And that was never part of the plan.
“So, you may even begin to move by the end of this little meeting.”
“That’s excellent. I don’t have a thing to move though.” He said calmly and the realization hit her like a rock. She walked slowly to a nearby bench and sat down, then looked up at him.
“You know, I never really let myself think about it in that direction. And now that I do… now that I do, it actually breaks my heart.”
He regarded her for a moment and then shrugged, as though shaking it off and giving her permission to do the same. But she couldn’t.
“I don’t think about it that much. I’ve been swimming in and out of consciousness. However, I didn’t tell you that to let it trouble you. So don’t let it, for that isn’t what troubles me the most.”
She watched him as he walked closer and took a seat beside her. Then he did the strangest, cutest thing that she had experienced in a long time. He drew her hand closer to him so that he leaned forward to smell the tulip.
“Here, take it.” She said, when he leaned back, happy when he took it willingly.
“Thanks. One is never too manly to accept a tulip from a redhead.” He said, making her laugh,
“You and all you redhead references.”
“More to come.” He said it like a promise and she held on to his words, and moving with impulse, leaned her head on his shoulder.
“I should have things in my cabin that you could use, some of my Daddy’s old clothes that I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing. The land gives food, and in return, you need only to tend it. And so we will tend it together.”
“Some day..” he began and tilted her head so that she looked into his burning gaze, which made her grow warm, and concludes the separation to come was for her good as well as his, “ someday, I’ll be able to make sense of the why. Of why you’ve been nothing but kind to me. But for today, I only have my wage to give and my many many Thank yous.”
“It is enough.” She said and cupped his cheek with her right hand.
~*~*~*
It was rare really, she thought, –as she helped him clean up his new home– that a witch would end up with a werewolf. But regardless, rarely did not mean, impossible, for she had come across legends that had told of such stories.
Typically, those Lycans and witches were always spoken of as lovers and “bounded” and when the love they shared bore children, those children became powerful beings known as Hybrids. But conception could only occur if the two parties involved were, as it was called, Destined or fated, or better yet, Bounded.
It was Beautiful, the children they bore, the union they shared. But rare. Always rare and like all Beautiful and rare things, it was met by opposition by those who would scorn and fear the unknown.
She leaned against the wall of the house, to catch her breath, holding onto her broom, and watched Alexander walk through the front door.
And like a premonition, a vision that caught her off guard, she finally understood her attachment to him. Her desire to keep him around and why, even with all of the knowledge she had of their differences in nature, she felt warm and welcome with him.
For if indeed he was The Lycan that she knew him to be, then she was his Witch.
She was his mate.