The Forest Witch's Home for Magical Creatures

Chapter 27: Where the Spirits Meet the Trees

Wren would never admit it, but the humans were confusing.

He had been to his fair share of markets over the years. They've changed and evolved with the humans and their culture.

He could understand grocery stores, gas stations, and those huge stores that sell everything, but this market was odd.

Selling food, clothes, and trinkets was normal. He was just starting to realize that humans make interesting things. There were booths for clothing for pets, makeup, and hard squares which he thought were candy but were wax.

The markets of necessity were over. It wasn't need that drove the commoners but creativity and want.

He left the witch at the table. He was practicing trust.

It left a bad taste in his mouth but every part of him cried out for more of her. It was hard to ignore his instincts. He wanted to rub his wrist on her neck so she smelled of him. He wanted to touch her hair, make her smile, and feel her body move against his.

But for now, he would just practice trust. The amount of trust she placed in him was staggering. She trusted him from the moment she met him, which was a disaster of a mistake.

He cringes back when he thinks about that first day in the glade. How angry he was, an animal trapped in a snare. He could have easily killed her and he would have missed something he never had.

He recalls her openness, on her knees in front of him, begging him to believe she'd never hurt him.

Those green eyes that fucked him up. Those eyes broke the seals around his heart. They made him feel things he promised never to experience again. Complacency, hope, safety. Now he feels them like breathing. Never having to wonder if he will make it through the day.

He has a routine. Food. A home. Love. A family. All because of those green eyes.

So he trusted her with selling his figures. She had talked money with him the night before. She explained how much he made the first two days, and how much that might grow to by the end of the market.

He doesn't understand the human economy well and cannot gauge what is good money and what is not. But his pride stopped him from asking questions and he silently nodded and took the money.

He set some aside in his drawer of treasures. It wasn't mounds of gold and rubies but it was something.

He gave a small amount to Jace and Gael. he planned to give some to the witch.

As he watched human culture on TV and explored the internet he started picking up nuances of expectations.

Living with someone and raising children with them were things mates did.

Usually, both mates would contribute to the family. Wren wasn't sure what the witch's bills were like, but he could contribute. Show his worth as a mate.

The word echoed in his mind. Mate.

Humans changed mates out with the season. Even with marriage, it wasn't guaranteed to last. Dragons were more selective. They didn't mate for life, but their decision to take the steps to be mates was sacred. Some pairs never exchange feathers and scales. They never make that commitment to each other, rather they love and fuck without the commitment.

He wondered if he could do that. Give the witch his body and soul without tying their magic together. Could he have her in his bed without calling her mate?

He wasn't sure but he would have to learn how to. After his family was murdered and he watched his nestmates mourn the loss of their mates, the insanity and rage they let themselves succumb to, he swore he would never put himself in that position. Never give another living being that much hold over him.