Of Thatch and Vine

By SarahBeth9009

2.4K 141 13

Sometimes fate brings you exactly what you need before you even realize it. *** Brigid Kelly has lost everyth... More

Book Playlist
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Author's Note

Chapter Seven

147 17 0
By SarahBeth9009





~Brigid~


Standing in the middle of the forest was not how Brigid planned for this afternoon to end. She certainly didn't plan to be left there while Torin walked further into the woods, disappearing from sight with promises of being right back. She was about to turn around and head home, cursing a certain Irishman as she went when a twig snapped to her right. Whipping to face that direction, her jaw dropped when a familiar wolf walked into view. The reddish brown of his fur stood out against the green of the forest; his head was held down slightly, as if he was trying to make himself look smaller. It didn't do much, considering his shoulder would probably come up to her hip. She knew it hadn't been a spirit trying to mess with her.

As the silence stretched on, Torin inched his way closer to her, a soft whine coming from him. She wasn't afraid of him — how could she be? She hadn't been afraid the two other times she'd seen wolves in these woods, why would she be now? But her tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of her mouth. Suddenly, the old stories her Gran used to tell her of Shifters played in her mind. She'd grown to assume they had been just that; stories. With another low whine, Torin sat down with a couple feet separating them. Sitting, his head almost came up to her chest. Meeting his yellow-green eyes, Brigid couldn't help but read the emotion in them. He looked almost sorry, like this was not how he had wanted to tell her.

"My Great Uncle knew, didn't he?"

Torin dipped his head, the nod more human than wolf.

Of course, he had known. Her Gran's brother had lived on this land his entire life, of course he had known of the Shifters living in the woods. She wondered if they had been friends. Wondered if her Gran had known them, too. Blurry images raced across her mind from the only other time she had ever visited Ash Grove. She had been six, just lost her parents the winter before. She remembers a man coming to visit them with some young boys in tow, but she definitely didn't remember seeing any wolves in the woods.

"Do you know what's causing the woods to die?" Torin shakes his head, his ears flattening against his skull. Playing with the ring on her thumb, Brigid sighed. Looking around them, there was no evidence in this part of the woods that would suggest something was amiss. But she knew that whatever was causing it was going to keep happening unless they figure out a way to stop it.

Looking back at Torin, finding him sitting in the same spot, Brigid gestured back towards the cabin. "Well, I'm guessing you have a lot more to tell me but you can't do that when you have a tail." The noise he made sounded so much like snort it made Brigid smile. "I'll meet you in the yard." She turned and left the wolf where he was, ignoring the slight grumble she heard as she did. He might not have wanted her to walk away yet but she needed to actually speak to him and she couldn't do that when he was in that form. Besides, she knew enough from the stories her Gran used to tell that the actual shift from one form to another is painful and not something outsiders ever witness. As the stone barrier of Ash Grove appeared out of the forest, Brigid ran a hand over her face, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. Life just got so much more complicated.


~~~


"You're not taking me somewhere to lock me away so I can't give your secret up, right?" The look Torin passes her over the seat of his truck would have withered a laser person. "What? You're the first Shifter I've ever met! How am I supposed to know how this works."

The murderous look turns almost pained. "Have I really left that sort of impression on you? Coming to your home every day to fix your roof?"

The comment sobers Brigid up, making a blush rise on her cheekbones; she never meant to make him feel like he's made her feel unsafe. She might not have liked men particularly that much, but he had never once made her regret asking for his assistance. And not once while standing in the forest, with his giant wolf form staring at her, did she feel under threat. "No. No, Torin, I didn't mean it that way. I know you aren't any threat to me. I just...I know how close a witch holds her power."

Silence descends on them for a mile or so before Torin's shoulders loosen. "I apologize, I didn't mean to get defensive. I'm glad I don't make you uncomfortable. But we both know I would've disposed of you in the forest if I had wanted to."

A bark of laughter erupts from Brigid's chest before she can consciously stop it. She sees the corner of Torin's lips lifting, too. "You think you would be a match for my magic? I know you felt that barrier I put up."

"Mhm, I did. But magic is no defense against teeth and claws."

Shaking her head, Brigid looked out the window to hide the smile on her face, her chest feeling lighter than it had in hours. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

The truck turned off the main road and down a narrow gravel one, fields on both sides full of sheep with their lambs. A warmth settled in Brigid's chest at the sight. "Where are we going, anyway? All you said was I had someone I needed to meet."

"My home."

Brigid whipped her head to face him, her brows high on her forehead. "You're taking me to your home?" She received a simple nod in acknowledgment to what she said. She didn't know what she had been expecting but it wasn't that. She really needed to try and find her Uncle's old journals he always used to write in. She knew she'd be able to find more information about Shifters in them. Even without that, however, Brigid knew it was uncommon for a Shifter to invite someone into their home. If witches kept their secrets close, stories always said that Shifters were even more closed off.

As if he could hear her inner most thoughts, Torin said, "Don't believe everything you hear in old stories. We aren't nearly as monstrous as they make us out to be."

Brigid thought of the stories her Gran would tell, of the wolves who protected their homes and lands fiercely. Of the wolves who treated you like pack, if you were lucky enough. No, they weren't monstrous to her. "I don't think you're a monster, Torin." He didn't take his eyes off the road, but she could just make out a slight smile as it appeared in the corner of his lips.

The truck ran over a bump in the road, deep enough to jostle her. Turning back to face the front, a white-washed estate came into view as they rounded the last bend, the road ending in a field beside the house. Sheep grazed in the pastures around the property and the forest — the same one that connected to Brigid's home — backed the estate in deep green. As the truck pulled up to the house, a young woman with blond hair walked out of the back door. Torin put the truck in park behind the house, a long sigh left him as the engine cut out. When Brigid looked over at him, his lips were pulled thin in a frown.

"That's my sister. Ignore anything she's about to say to you."

Brigid raised a single brow as Torin got out of the truck. Taking a deep breath to steady her own still anxious heart, Brigid opens her own door and comes face to face with the tall blond.

"Hi! Glad to see my brother finally decided to bring you by. I was beginning to think he was trying to keep you all to himself. I'm Orla, by the way." The cheeky grin on her face only added to the effect of Torin standing behind her with a look of death on his face. It was all rather funny from Brigid's point of view.

Unable to stop the smile from growing on her face, Brigid caught Torin's eye before giving her attention to Orla. "He didn't have much a choice. Nice to meet you, Orla." Behind her, Brigid could see Torin shaking his head, a groan reaching her ears a moment later.

"Let her out of the truck, Orla. Da is waiting for us."

As Orla steps back so Brigid can finish getting out of the truck and shutting the door, she leans closer to whisper. "Don't look so nervous, my Da is about as tough as a teddy bear. Much nicer to be around than him." She stabs her thumb over her shoulder, winking as she does. Brigid does her best to not smile or laugh, even as Torin yells from inside the house.

"I can hear you! Don't you have to be at work soon?"

As Brigid is led into the house, Orla stops inside the entry and points down the hallway to the right. "Unfortunately, my brother is correct, I do have work. Head down this hallway, you'll come across my father's office no problem. But I do hope you won't be a stranger from now on. Gods know I need another woman around here."

Smiling, Brigid shrugs a shoulder. "I don't really plan on it but we'll see what happens here. I have a lot of questions that need answers."

A softness fills Orla's eyes, her cheeky smile dimming. "I know. Just know that we're all on the same side here, yeah? And my brother isn't nearly as annoying as he seems." She puts a hand on Brigid's shoulder and squeezes, before walking down the opposite hall.

Watching her leave, Brigid wonders what caused the shift in Orla's emotions. Like a deep understanding had passed between them with no words needed. Looking down the hall Orla had indicated, Brigid follows the old wood and stone walls, taking note of the portraits and photos lining them, as she listens for Torin's voice. Halfway down the hall, Torin's voice reached her ears, along with that of another male's. Warm light filtered into the hall as she came upon a room. Peaking in, she finds Torin standing near a large fireplace, speaking to an older man in an armchair. As she enters the room the men fall quiet, but the older man's face breaks out into a large smile.

"Brigid. Welcome to our home. I do hope my boy here was polite."

Stepping into the cozy room, Brigid is overcome by the homey-ness of it. Bookcases lined almost every wall, full to the brim of old and new volumes by the look of some of the spines. A large two-pained window sat opposite the fireplace. Brigid could just imagine swinging them open on a warm summer's day, reading a book in the sunlight streaming through. Meeting the man's eyes, Brigid returned the smile. "He's been cordial enough." Her eyes moved to Torin's, the teasing jab not going unnoticed if the roll of his eyes is any indication.

Laughing low, the man inclined his head towards his son. "Ay, that sounds about right. I am Rowan, Torin's father. Come sit with me, I'm sure you have many questions."

Did she ever. But in the coziness of the room — and in the presence of Rowan's blinding smile — it was almost hard to remember what those questions were. Taking a seat in the armchair across from Rowan, Brigid glanced at Torin standing by the fire before back at his father. "How did a family of wolf shifters end up on an island where there are no wolves? A little hard to blend in, isn't it?"

"Well, the land wasn't always void of wolves," Rowan answered with a laugh that didn't hold much humor in it. "They've been extinct since the late seventeen-hundreds, farmers don't take kindly to their flocks being killed. So I suspect when my ancestors made a home here it was a lot easier to run around without being noticed."

It sounded awfully reminiscent to the wolf packs back in the States, in Montana and the Dakotas, being hunted because they were causing farmer's to loose money. All because they were doing what they were supposed to do. It had always saddened her that there wasn't a better way for humans to coexist with the hunters. "Amazing how much damage humans can do."

Rowan smiled in understanding, "That they certainly can."

"Speaking of. I've been trying to determine what's causing the forest to die but we haven't been able to locate any external sources." Torin spoke up, his brows furrowed as he looked into the fire. "We first suspected poison of some kind but there are no plants up here in this area that could be dumping hazardous material. And even if there was, there's been no strange activity on our land."

For a moment, Brigid was shocked enough to stare dumbly at the two Shifters in the room. Did they really not know? No poison would do that to a forest; none human-made, at any rate. But poison wasn't the problem here, it never had been and Brigid suspects this has been slowly brewing for quite a while. "You seriously can't feel it?" She didn't mean for her voice to sound so accusing, but she was utterly dismayed.

Torin's eyes met hers, the pull on his brows becoming even more pronounced. "What do you mean?"

Shaking her head, she couldn't believe what she was hearing. She knew Shifter magic was different but it was still a form of magic. Surely they felt it. Looking to Rowan, she saw what could only be described as pride shining in his eyes. Ah, so not everyone was clueless, that was good news. But if Rowan could feel it, why hadn't he tried to find someone to fix it? "It's the magic in the land — it's dying. That's why whole patches of this ancient forest are turning to ash. Their lifeblood is disappearing."


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