“Yeah, but he’s going to move back to Wales to be with his family. He already told me. And I’m not leaving Charming Cove.” I looked around the gorgeous blue living room in which we stood. “This is my home. And anyway, he hasn’t asked me to go with him.” Not that I would. I just couldn’t give up the life I was meant to have—not for a man. Not again. “It’s okay, though. I’m getting my life together. I’m happy.”
“You definitely have your life together.” Aria gestured to the house around us. “And Hazel wants you to formally join the coven once your house is approved and you’re an official resident of Charming Cove.”
I smiled, pleasure rushing through me. It was just one more reason I couldn’t leave. I had a life here. Friends, a house, a job. It was more than I’d ever had before.
Everything was working out…except for the one thing that mattered the most.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
Isobel
Rafe’s pack lived in a seaside village about fifty miles from the stone circle where Coraline had cursed him. The drive was just as long as it had been the first time we’d gone to Wales, but the vibe was very different. There was silence, but it was heavy with anticipation.
By the time we pulled into the village where his family lived, I was nearly shaking with anxiety. The village itself was lovely, with a row of small cottages along the rocky coast and a village shop that had a pub on one side. It was far smaller than Charming Cove, but it was just as beautiful in its own way.
No wonder he’d ended up in Charming Cove—he was drawn to the sea.
“It’s wonderful,” I said, looking at the crashing dark waves on the rocky shore.
“It’s familiar.” There was awe in his voice. “Nothing has been familiar in a decade.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, then pulled into the parking spot in front of a little cottage with glass fishing floats decorating the front yard beneath the main window.
“Your family’s house?” I asked.
He nodded but didn’t move to leave the car.
“Come on. They’ve waited long enough. And if you wait any longer, you might wimp out.”
“Wimp out?” He turned and smiled at me. “Did you just say I might wimp out?”
“Prove me wrong.” I grinned, poking him in the arm.
“All right.” He climbed out and headed up the path to the front door. There was a small sign over the door that read Harrington. That had to be his last name. I followed, heart pounding. But no matter how nervous I was, Rafe had to be twice as on edge.
He knocked, and I held my breath.
The door swung open almost immediately, and a woman in her mid-fifties stared at us in shock. Then she burst into tears.
“Mum—”
“Rafe!” She launched herself at him, wrapping him in her arms. She gripped him hard, her delicate floral blouse and slender hands contrasting with the dark T-shirt that stretched across the broad plane of his back.
I couldn’t help it—tears burned my eyes, spilling onto my cheeks.
“Honey!” A man’s voice sounded from farther back in the house, and I saw him enter the foyer behind the woman. He was staring down at his phone. “Honey, Terrence says they have a lead on him. Some village in Cornwall.”
I gave a shuddery little gasp.
They were looking for him.
“Randall, he’s here!” the woman cried, her voice thick with tears and muffled against Rafe’s shirt.
Randall looked up, his face going white with shock. Then his face crumpled, and tears filled his eyes. He strode toward his wife and son, enveloping them in his embrace.
More tears spilled.
This was, without a doubt, the best thing I’d ever witnessed.
I cannot handle this.
Poa’s voice made me look down. She was staring at the group, her little face scrunched into a weird expression. I hadn’t realized she was there, but the intensity of my emotion must have drawn her.
“Are you crying?” The words were hard to squeeze out of my tight throat, and I wiped the tears from my eyes.
If it were physiologically possible, I would be. She glared up at me. I don’t like it.
I gave her a watery smile. “You don’t like that he found his family?”
Of course I like that. I just don’t like strong feelings about anything other than sausage rolls and lattes. It’s uncomfortable.
“But in a good way.”
There was movement from the little crowd in front of me, and I looked up to see them pulling apart.
Rafe
I turned to Isobel, my throat tight with emotion. Seeing my parents’ faces…
I hadn’t thought about them during the last week. I hadn’t allowed myself. I knew they’d feel that I was alive and healthy—werewolf magic allowed for that. But I’d owed it to Isobel to finish her house. She loved that place, and I wouldn’t be the reason she lost it. Not when she’d spent so much time helping me.
But I’d felt guilty about not going to my parents immediately, and I hadn’t been able to make myself pick up a phone. After ten years away, it felt too…insubstantial.
So I’d packed away thoughts of them and focused on helping Isobel, knowing that I’d see them soon.
But now that I was here, part of me wished I’d come sooner, that I hadn’t made them wait.
“Who’s this?” My mother wiped the tears from her eyes and gave Isobel a smile.
“My friend Isobel. She’s the witch who broke the curse. Isobel, this is Kay. And my father is Randall.”
My mother gave another loud sob and threw herself at Isobel, who put out her arms just in time to catch her.
“Thank you,” my mother said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Come on, honey.” My father pulled her back, as if to give Isobel space. Then he clearly thought better of it and hugged her himself. She gave me a wide-eyed look over his shoulder but didn’t seem too bothered.
“Randall, let the girl go. We need to have tea. And cake!” My mother turned to me. “Ever since the curse broke and we remembered you existed, I’ve been baking your favorites while the whole town looks for you.” She shook her head, a disgusted expression crossing her face. “I can’t believe I forgot my only son!”
“You didn’t forget me, Mum. You were cursed.”
“I’m going to find whoever did it, and I’m going to wring their skinny neck.”
“She’s dead.”
“Good.” Her voice was firm. “Did you kill her?”
“No, Mum. Of course not.”
“I would’ve.” She sniffed, then turned toward the kitchen. “Come in, now. We need to eat cake.”
“Come on, son.” My father beckoned us along.
I smiled and followed them, making sure that Isobel and Poa made it inside before I shut the door. I didn’t know when the cat had shown up, but she didn’t seem bothered that she was walking into a house full of werewolves. My parents liked cats, at least.
The house had been decorated since I’d been there last, redone in shades of cream and muted green, but the bones were familiar. My father led us into the living room while my mother went into the kitchen. Within seconds, she was back with a platter full of cake and small plates.
“The kettle is on, tea bags already in the cups,” she said. “Randall, you can get the tea when the kettle goes off.”
“That was quick,” Isobel said.