My heart swells at his perceptiveness.
“If you don’t mind?” I ask him. As much as I would like to stay in our little bubble forever, I can’t think rationally when I’m around him.
“Betty will be right in the shutters, if you need me you can tell her or call and I’ll be right there,” he says.
It’s sunset, and as we round the one lane road to my cottage, my stomach sinks into my chest.
Waiting on my porch are my grandmother and mother. No doubt, Warin can hear my heart rate picking up.
Part of me wants to ask him to stay in the car. Maybe to spare him from their wrath, or myself, I’m not sure.
But Warin doesn’t give me a chance as he rounds the car with his super speed and opens the door.
I feel like I’m going to puke as I see their appalled faces. I’m a disappointment, I always have been. They didn’t consider my magic anything special. In fact I’m pretty sure they thought that of me as a whole. Never skinny enough, never quiet enough. I was too much and too little at the same time for them and the feeling hurt.
When I glance over at Warin, his beautiful eyes assessing the situation, I realize that I’ve been more than enough in every way to him.
He’s made me a stronger witch, praised me for my magic. He always takes the opportunity to tell me how beautiful and selfless I am.
To him, I’m not too much. I’m more than he could ever ask for.
I grab his hand. Approaching the steps to my cottage, my grandmother’s nostrils flare as she looks at the two of us, her lips pursed.
“Pack your things, Ember. We’re leaving the coven,” my grandmother says and I shake my head.
“No, I’m not leaving,” I reply sternly.
“This coven has gone to hell in a handbasket. First the filthy dogs and now my own granddaughter is defiling herself with a dead man?” she asks, waving her wand around like a threat.
Warin says nothing, almost acting bored with the situation.
“If you want to leave the coven, that’s your choice, but good luck finding a new one. Celestial Coven was one of the few covens still stuck in the old ways, you aren’t going to find a coven who thinks like you. I’m not leaving, and I’m with Warin whether you like it or not.”
“Fleur, talk some sense into your daughter,” my grandmother says.
My mother sighs, looking down at the ground, and I wonder if maybe this is the moment she finally grows a spine.
“I don’t want to leave the coven, either. Lavender is doing amazing things. I don’t like that Ember is with a vampire, but it’s still her choice,” my mother says, shocking the shit out of me.
She’s always been a wet blanket, doing what grandmother always said instead of sticking up for herself.
My grandmother’s face is pinched as she takes in the surrounding scene. I’m fortunate that she might be a bigoted old bitch, but at least she’s not insane, like Violet’s grandmother.
“Consider yourselves singed from my family tree. The coven might be more progressive, but they’ll never accept this. Losing my magic, my wealth of knowledge in magic, will be a detriment to the coven. Losing you would mean nothing,” my grandmother says.
Unfortunately, that’s when Warin opens his mouth.
“Then leave, you old bitch,” he says.
I grimace as my mother’s eyes go wide and my grandmother looks at Warin like he’s evil incarnate.
“What did you say to me, vampire?” she hisses, holding her wand up.
Warin sighs, rolling his eyes. He moves at the speed of light, my grandmother too old to keep up as he grabs her wand. He’s standing back beside me as he dangles it in the air.
“Fuck off or I’ll crack it in half,” he says.
“You disgusting—” Warin goes to snap it on his knee and my grandmother makes a placating gesture. “Wait. Fine, I’ll leave.”
