The Forest Witch's Home for Magical Creatures

Chapter 28: The Distance

She woke up warm and in a tangle of blankets. They had trudged in, exhausted after the moon. Jace and Gael hung on her and Wren. They took their mattresses off their beds, pushed them together on the floor of their room, and promptly passed out.

She was on her back with a small warm body half on top of her, but it wasn't Jace weight that kept her pinned to the bed.

It was a wing, spread over Gale, Jace, and herself. Light peered in from the window and refracted off the dark irradiances of the feathers. The colors danced and reflected like a kaleidoscope.

She tried not to breathe. If she did anything to remind him of her existence the wing would move and that self-imposed distance would be back. The gap between them lessened last night. She could feel it as he held her hand, the spirits above them dancing.

She had seen it in his eyes as he spoke of choices. She wanted to say, wanted to scream it, that he was what she chose. But she promised herself she would go at his pace. It was like earning the trust of a wild animal, one wrong move, one push too far, and they're gone.

She could be patient. She could covet the gifts he left her, revel in the heavy looks between them, and be still under the weight of his wing.

She dared to move her head, just slightly, to look at his face to find him already looking at her.

His icy eyes were soft in the early morning light, and the scales across his face were alive with movements of color.

He was wild and beautiful. She wanted to reach across the distance and brush against the colorful parts of his skin, to feel the difference. See if they would leave an imprint against her skin, a reminder he was there. She imagined his face flushed, how it would spread down his neck and across his chest.

Her thoughts must have been obvious across her face because he arched a sleepy brow and the corner of his mouth twitched.

She couldn't find it within herself to be ashamed. Especially, with the weight of his wing across her body.

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The days following the full moon were sluggish. The boys did their homework and then lazed around. When it was sunny they would lay in the grass, like little plants trying to photosynthesize.

Wren kept a chunk of wood in his hand, deftly shaping and molding it. His carvings and presence at the markets were quite a hit.

She wished they were in a place where she could tell him how proud she was.

Massie puttered around the property getting chores done. She restocked items for the market, weeded the garden, and planted seeds.

She was on her hands and knees pulling at stubborn weeds when he joined her in the garden. She peered up at him, the sun making her squint. He was wearing the loose-fitting linen pants that he preferred. They sat low on his hips. It wasn't particularly warm, but he was wearing a baggy tank top, almost the whole sides of the shirt were cut out.

She didn't know where he got this shirt, but she was thankful each time he wore it. The flash of skin always drew her eye.

She halfheartedly tugged at the weeds, trying not to get too distracted by him standing over her.

He huffed and squatted down. His wings spread out to help him keep his balance. They blocked the sun from her eyes so she could properly get distracted as his shirt dipped down past his collarbones.

They were quite nice.

His hand wrapped around hers. He kept his pale complexion despite his time in the sun. It was a nice contrast to her tanned, freckled hand.