Chapter Eight
The next morning, Autumn awoke more than a bit groggy and very, very warm. Mmm …
She opened her eyes and realized she was warm because she was snuggled up to Brock on his couch.
He had taken her to his apartment above his tattoo studio last night, where they had talked for hours, sharing stories about their lives and who they were over coffee. It had been so easy, and he had made her laugh several times with funny stories about him and his sister growing up. She had never felt so comfortable around somebody in her entire life. It was as if her instincts knew Brock was her perfect match.
She replayed the hours they had spent on the couch, still talking after finishing their coffees. About how Brock’s life was here in Louisville. How he had travelled and lived throughout half the country while looking for her. That knowledge both humbled and blew her away. She still got butterflies when she thought about how much Brock had gone out of his way to find her and her alone.
For the first time in her life, she felt truly special.
As Brock took a deep breath in his sleep, she blushed at the feeling of his body moving against hers. Autumn didn’t remember falling asleep, nor could she remember what they had been talking about last. She must have passed out on Brock, and then he had laid them down where they were.
Not that it was a hardship waking up with a gorgeous specimen like him, but she only wished she could remember how they ended up all snuggled together. When it came to Brock, she wanted to remember absolutely everything.
What she did remember were snippets of dreams. Or perhaps they had been visions. Scenes of her and Brock’s future lives together, surrounded by children with both their features.
As she reflected on the things she had dreamed, part of her desperately hoped they were visions. They had been the living embodiment of all her dreams come true.
Love and a family.
Autumn hadn’t known it was possible, but she had started to fall for Brock in the span of one night. She utterly believed him when he said she was his mate, and not just because of her dreams. Some might consider that naivety on her part, but once she was sober, she had remembered how shifters had fated mates. In essence, they had one person they were meant to spend the rest of their life with.
Every bone and instinct in Autumn’s body had told her that Brock was her soulmate. Therefore, she had spent the night listening to Brock’s stories, while also telling him some of her own. Such as, how she had grown up thinking the frog prince was real. Or how she had magic prank wars with some of the other children in the coven that had led to her having green skin for a week.
With every story, she had sobered up a little more, until finally the alcohol had left her system and she had felt buzzed in an entirely different way.
She had been high on Brock.
Addicted to his smiles and quick wit, she started to swoon like a teenager with a crush. Waiting with bated breath for the touch of his hand on hers, or anxiously hoping he would scoot closer to her.
Last night had been a living dream.
This morning was all about reality.
As she tried to wake up mentally, she stared at Brock’s covered chest and smiled. Somehow, in some amazing twist of fate, her happy ever after had found her. She should be happy, yet a shiver of sadness ran down her back as reality set in.
Autumn still had the Gray Coven and an arranged marriage to a warlock to think about, yet here she was, lying in the love of her life’s arms.
Brock had said mates sealed their fate with a mating bite. He had told her last night that he refused to give her one until she was no longer drunk. He didn’t want her to have any regrets. Did that mean she could walk away from Brock now and still fulfill her duties?
Did she want to do that? To Brock? To herself?
With his strong arms wrapped around her, Autumn couldn’t imagine giving up the happy ever after she had always dreamed of. But neither could she imagine her life without the coven. What was worse was the fact that she had purposely not told Brock about any of this last night. She knew she should have, immediately even, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to break their magical moment.
He stirred, his breaths no longer deep, awareness seeping into him.
She had to tell him the truth. Autumn was going to have to choose a lifetime of love and happiness, or the coven and the only family she had ever known.
Shit, tiddlywinks, and flying frogs! What the hell was she going to do?
As if sensing her turmoil, Brock came fully awake. He rolled to his side and dragged her up until they were face-to-face. With a worried look in his eyes, he quietly rumbled in his deep morning voice, “What’s wrong, love?”
Not ready to end this wonderful moment, Autumn lied. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Brock mumbled. “I can smell your sadness. So, I’ll ask again, mate; what’s wrong?”
With his probing eyes and nowhere to hide, Autumn’s uncertainness turned into sorrow and she started to cry.
“Oh, Brock, it’s horrible, and you’re going to hate me, but I don’t know what to do!”
Alarm crossed his face and he tightened his grip. “Do about what, Autumn?”
With that question out there between them, Autumn finally started to tell Brock the truth about her situation. “I don’t know how much you know about witches, warlocks, and coven life, but every coven has what’s called a head witch in charge. I’ve been ordained to be the next one once the existing one, Fiona, dies.”
Brock’s features turned befuddled. “Okay, I don’t see a problem with that, love.”
She shook her head. “The problem is that, to be the head witch, I’m supposed to marry a strong warlock to create an alliance with another coven. If I don’t do that and choose instead to be your mate, the coven will shun me and I’ll lose the only family I have ever known.”
His silence was deafening. A death toll of what had just begun and would now never be.
He held her tightly for long, quiet moments, leaving Autumn to cry against his chest until she had no tears left and her eyes were puffy and sore. Then Autumn continued to lay there quietly, unsure of what Brock was thinking.
Eventually, he sat up, pulling her with him.
Gripping her upper arms, he squeezed her as if to comfort himself, then sighed. “This decision has to be yours and yours alone, Autumn.”
She nodded. “I know.”
As she stared into Brock’s stoic face, his expression showing he expected the worst, Autumn knew she had already made her choice. How could she not? Brock was everything she had always wanted. A man meant for her alone. She could never have anything like that with a stranger.
She would give up the coven for him. It would be hard to give up her family, but she would build one with Brock.
And as far as she was concerned, she would start that family now.