The Wedding Spell

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by Donna Fletcher


  “Why should this worry you? You’re a witch who wants a witch and who will understand a witch.”

  “But what if I fall in love with a mortal woman?”

  Sebastian dismissed his worry with a wave of his hand. “Just cast a spell.”

  “No good,” Dagon said with a shake of his head. “Spells can’t force people to love. I need mortal help with a dilemma like that.”

  His words sank into Sebastian’s head, and he stared bewildered at Dagon.

  “Will you help me?” Dagon asked with fingers crossed. A mortal superstition, but one that might work.

  Sebastian hesitated for a brief second, shutting his eyes and then opening them with renewed strength. “Only if you help me.”

  “Damn, I thought you would never ask,” Dagon said jumping out of his seat.

  “What?” Sebastian asked confused.

  “Now I can finally answer all your questions, and we can get this mess cleared up once and for all—”

  His sudden pause concerned Sebastian. “A problem? I thought we finally had a solution.”

  “Let’s get through the explanation first and then we can see if there’s a problem.”

  Sebastian nodded and it felt good, so did the sudden flood of relief that rushed through him.

  “We’ll start at the beginning.”

  “Where Ali strolled into my office without anyone seeing her?”

  “Right,” Dagon said. “She used fairy dust. She never played fair even as a kid.”

  Sebastian smiled. “She still doesn’t.”

  Dagon grinned. “We’ll fix that.”

  Go on,” Sebastian urged. The thought of getting even while settling this absurd dilemma sounded awfully appealing.

  “The spell she cast was the strongest of love spells and rarely used. It allows a witch who casts it to let the recipient feel her love. Mind you, she hadn’t planned on using it at first, but once she saw you—”

  “She knew that she loved me,” Sebastian finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

  “She never did look before she leaped.”

  “I’m glad she didn’t. I think I secretly always wished for magical love but was too sensible to believe it existed. Ali taught me otherwise.”

  Dagon laughed. “No wonder you fell so hard for her. You were predisposed to the idea. All that was necessary was for it to be the right person.”

  Sebastian grinned broadly. “And she was.”

  “But,” Dagon cautioned, “it’s necessary for you to love her unconditionally.”

  He slammed his fist on the desk. “I was stupid. I thought the spell—” he shook his head forgetting what he was about to say.

  “That’s the problem,” Dagon said, “The spell has safety devices so to speak.”

  “Safety devices?”

  “The safety device can be altered if the person openly asks a witch for help. If not, then the person cast upon, being you, doesn’t accept the caster’s, being Ali, love unconditionally, then within a particular time frame, the person cast upon, you, loses forever the memory of—”

  “No!” Sebastian shouted, realizing what Dagon was about to tell him. “I could never forget, Ali, never. She is part of me. I couldn’t live without her. I don’t want to live without her.”

  He rushed around the desk and grabbed hold of Dagon by the shoulders. “I’m a foolish mortal who needs help. Help me, Dagon, or I swear that I’ll beat the hell out of you if you don’t.”

  Dagon couldn’t help but laugh.

  Sebastian didn’t find his humor funny. He shook him. “Help me, damn it, help me.”

  Dagon finally tempered his laughter. Calm down, I’m going to help you and my dear Ali is going to owe me big time for the rest of her life.”

  “We’ll name our first born son after you,” Sebastian offered hastily.

  “She’s not going to get off that easily, and besides, you haven’t heard the rest of what you must do if you want this union to be permanent.”

  Sebastian released him and stepped back. “Tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

  Dagon brushed at the few wrinkles left on his suit jacket. “I think you just may be up to this particular challenge after all.”

  “As long as it unites me with Ali—”

  “Forever and always?” Dagon asked.

  Sebastian smiled. “Not long enough.”

  Dagon nodded and slipped his arm around Sebastian’s shoulder. “Then, my friend, I don’t think that the problem I spoke of earlier is going to be a problem at all.”

  Sebastian was ready for anything. “I place myself in your competent hands.”

  “I like you, Sebastian, even though you are a mortal, and I, my friend, am going to teach you how to cast a special spell.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Ali stood on the terrace in her pure white ceremonial robe. It was almost midnight, the beginning of a new day. A new day to Ali always brought with it the promise of hope. And the stars in the heavens above knew she needed a large dose of hope.

  The warm summer breeze kissed her face and she smiled. It was a stunning night to cast a prayer to the Mother Sky. The temperate breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees, producing a soothing melody. The night creatures joined in with their own magical sounds, and she always enjoyed listening to the beauty of nature’s sympathy.

  “A perfect night.”

  Ali turned and greeted her aunt with a smile.

  “I wanted to speak with you,” Sydney said, walking up to her niece and hooking her arm in hers.

  Ali moved along with her aunt as she stepped from the terrace onto the thick carpet of moist grass. Neither of them wore shoes. It was a night to feel the energy of the earth, to call on its power and renew and give thanks.

  Sydney wore a pale blue silk caftan that gave her body freedom of movement and freedom to feel nature’s wonders. They walked slowly toward the trees that led to the woods beyond. They were like sisters, mother and daughter, niece and aunt, lifelong friends, women sharing a special female bond.

  Sydney spoke and Ali listened, for she knew no wiser woman nor admired one as much as her aunt.

  “I remember the night you were born. Stubborn you were, giving your mother the hardest of times, and I always felt it was because you wanted to be born on a particular day, as if you sensed that that day held special magic just for you. I watched you grow in courage and strength. You amazed me and made me so very proud of the remarkable woman you have become.”

  “I wouldn’t have become half the woman I am without your love and guidance.”

  “Perhaps,” Sydney said with a gentle nod, “but regardless you have grown into a woman I much admire and respect.”

  Sydney’s words touched Ali deeply. To know her aunt thought so highly of her filled her with immense satisfaction and gratitude.

  Sydney stopped not far from the line of trees that marked the entrance to the woods. She took Ali’s hands in hers, squeezing them in a loving embrace and looked with gentle concern into her eyes.

  “You possess far greater strength and courage than I could ever-—”

  Ali immediately attempted to differ, but her aunt refused to hear otherwise.

  “Listen to me, Ali, for I have a story to tell you.”

  Ali remained silent eager to hear her aunt’s words, for they never failed to offer wisdom.

  Her story unfolded in her soft exotic voice and kept Ali spellbound with each word.

  “You once asked me if I ever truly loved, and I told you that my experience was better left to memories. But memories have a way of haunting and reminding one that decisions should sometimes be foolish.

  “I was young, barely one hundred years old.” She paused, her eyes misting. “He was the laird of a clan, strong, brave, and proud. We loved with carefree abandonment and at times wildly. He was everything I dreamed of and more. His strength was that of ten men, and yet when he held me it was with a gentle love that astonished me. He had the most beautiful green eyes, hands
ome features even with a scar that marred his left cheek and a mighty laugh that shook the treetops.”

  She paused again, took a reassuring breath and proceeded. “He knew I was a witch and actually admired my heritage, which in turn made me proud. He wanted to marry me, actually insisted upon it, but I—”

  Sydney choked on her words and fought the tears that refused to stay locked away. “I feared the very thing you are going through. He warned me most adamantly never to cast a spell on him. He said it wasn’t necessary, that he loved me enough and no spell could make him love me more. The magical love spell was the one that would have grated us what I wanted most with him, eternity together.”

  Ali wiped at her own tears, feeling her aunt’s regret.

  “I have told myself many times over the years that I should have been foolish and simply leaped before I looked. I never loved another man the way I loved Duncan and I never will. And I will forever regret not taking the chance.”

  Sydney took another reaffirming breath. “That is why I so admire your extraordinary courage and persistence. No matter the consequences, you took that leap of faith in the name of love. And seldom does one have the bravery to tempt fate. You are truly a gallant woman.”

  With tears running down her pale cheeks, Sydney hugged her niece tightly to her and with a whispery sob said, “All my love and hope, and all my prayers go with you tonight.”

  Ali embraced her aunt and found it difficult to let go. Being so much in love, she could fully understand the pain and anguish her aunt had suffered and still did. And with tomorrow’s dawn she just might face the same sorrowful consequences.

  Sydney released her, stepping back. “Go. Time draws near for a good cast and good fortune.”

  “I am frightened,” she admitted.

  Sydney stood straight and proud and offered prudent advice. “Dispel your fear, my child, it will only hamper your skill and it can only exist if you give it life.”

  Ali smiled, pressed her hand to her chest and drew her tightly clasped hand away to place it in Sydney’s outstretched one. “You will dispose of my fear?”

  “With pleasure,” she said cupping her hands over Ali’s and drawing away from her the one emotion that impedes even the strongest of men.

  Ali turned and walked toward the woods, her aunt’s soft voice whispering in her head.

  My blessings go with you.

  Ali made her way through the dark woods without fear. Her steps were firm and steady. She required no map or light to guide her way. She knew the path. The sacred place was a special part of her heritage, and she would always find her way in the dark without a problem.

  It was a place her mother and aunt had often brought her to, a sacred place for witches. It sat deep in the center of the woods, protected and cared for by the trees, the foliage, the animals, and the fairies.

  It was the heart of nature. It teemed with life, giving and receiving. Round and round. No beginning and no end. Constant and forever. It was the sacred well of eternity. And a witch only cast or offered a prayer from the hallowed ground when absolutely necessary.

  She had joined her mother and aunt there for lessons. She was taught the importance of a witch’s heritage and knowledge. Few casts were made there and those that were, were solitary casts.

  One witch standing alone, asking for help from the great Mother Sky. And if two stood there?

  Then eternity would be theirs.

  She entered a small clearing and stood silent, head bowed, paying her respects.

  The area formed a complete, perfect circle, not very large in size, and the tall surrounding trees stood guard like Roman centurions. The night sky capped the secluded domain, and a multitude of stars twinkled in homage to the full moon.

  It was almost midnight; the blending of one day into the next, continuation of the cycle. Over and over, as with life.

  Ali knelt and silently gave thanks for all she had and all life gave. She closed her eyes and placed her hands palms down on the ground beside her, relishing the energy in every blade.

  This was her heritage, part of who she was and always would be. She cared deeply for all around her and loved just as deeply.

  And that love is what brought her here tonight to this sacred place. She would take one last chance and cast a powerful prayer to the Mother Sky and ask for her help.

  What help she sent was entirely her choice. Her decision was accepted without question, since her choice always proved wise.

  Ali understood that her spell could not be changed by what she did here tonight. The spell had to be adhered to, but she could request that Sebastian be given guidance... that he believed.

  Believed in what?

  She smiled at her warning thought. She had to make certain she handled this correctly, that what she requested didn’t alter the spell.

  So what exactly did Sebastian need to believe in?

  Sebastian needed to believe in magical love and that it came from the heart and no witch no matter how powerful could force a mortal to love. Only the heart had the power.

  He had to believe not in her love but his own and that he gave of it freely and willingly with no help or hindrance from another party.

  She delayed the casting, giving thought to the exact words and emotions she wished to present. Soon, though, time would run out, and she would be faced with her task.

  Her thoughts drifted to Sebastian and she smiled. He was the man of her dreams. Her eyes ached at the sight of him. Whether he was clothed or naked didn’t matter; he appealed to her every time she laid eyes on him.

  He was even appealing when he frowned or crossed his arms over his chest and took that warrior stance of his, and then there was the way he loved.

  She sighed and the aching sound echoed through the trees.

  It wasn’t only the way he made love; it was the way he loved. It didn’t matter if he simply held her in his arms with her head rested on his chest or if he slipped naked over and into her in one swift motion. She could feel his love, strong and palpable racing through him, hot and urgent and necessary, so very necessary to the nourishment of their souls.

  “And he can cook,” she said with a laugh. What more could a woman want?

  Her own thoughts cautioned her.

  He could want a mortal woman.

  Ali shook her head. A mortal woman would bore him to tears. He could never cope with female mortal flaws. He needed the excitement, the pleasure, the foolishness and the love only she, a witch, could give him.

  She had to remember, though, that he was a man steeped in logic. While part of him wanted to romp carefree naked in the grass and surrender to the erotic tunes of her toe bell, another part of him reminded him of his mortal beliefs and common sense.

  Common had no business being attached to sense. They were too opposite to mix well, at least in her world.

  She sighed; she was stalling the inevitable. Her cast must be made at midnight. The time when two separate days are one... the continuous cycle, everlasting, eternal.

  A warm breeze rushed through the clearing and over her. She could almost hear it whisper, it’s time.

  Ali stood straight and proud, her shoulders drawn back, her chin held in a defiant tilt displaying her confidence and strength.

  Her hands shook as they reached to unfasten her robe, the slight tremble the only indication of her nervousness.

  She released the four ties on her robe and slowly slipped the soft garment off her naked body. She closed her eyes a moment, feeling the tepid summer breeze caress her body. It filled her, wrapped around her, and embraced her like a mother welcoming a lost child home to her arms.

  Her eyes drifted open, and she took one last invigorating breath, drinking from nature’s cup, nourishing herself, and stepped into the circle.

  Her body felt fluid with each step she took, and when she reached the center she felt as if she were at the center of her own being. She heard the steady rhythm of her heart, felt life’s blood rushing through her, sense
d the pleasure of her flesh to the touch of the soft wind. This was the center and power of life.

  Her determination returned in a flash, racing over and through her, and her confidence took flight and with it her courage.

  She tossed her head up, smiled wide, and stretched her arms out, extending her hands in supplication to the Mother Sky, her prayer ready on her lips.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “I told you not to go that way, but you wouldn’t listen,” Beatrice scolded, her wings fluttering as she stood suspended in the air next to Sebastian’s head.

  He rubbed his bruised knee, sitting on the thick fallen log he had tripped over. “I thought it was the right way. I don’t want to be late.”

  Beatrice landed on his shoulder, her tiny hands planted on her round hips. “Not much confidence you have in me.”

  Sebastian detected a hint of annoyance in her soft voice and explained, “It isn’t you. It’s me. I’ve bungled this whole thing from the start. And I have never in all my years made such a mess of something so simple.”

  “You are mortal. What did you expect?” She flew down from her perch to land on his thigh. She made her way carefully to his knee and gently patted and blew a soft breath on the bruised area with her delicate tiny hands.

  Sebastian released a frustrated sigh. “You make being mortal sound like an affliction.”

  With proper attention ailments can be made better,” she said and pointed to his knee. “Give it a try.”

  Sebastian didn’t for once doubt her talent... after all she was a fairy.

  He cautiously bent his knee and smiled. “Not an ounce of pain. Let’s get going.”

  Before he could move, Beatrice flew up and flit in front of his face.

  “Whoa, me boy,” she cautioned. “You keep yourself parked on that log a minute.”

  “But time—”

  “We have some time right now. I won’t let you be late. I want this union as badly as you do. Maybe then Alisande will mend her stubborn ways.”

  “She’ll mend them all right,” he said firmly, “even if I have to take away her broomstick.”

  Beatrice shook her head, her flower wreath almost tumbling off her head. With a push she righted it. “And if it were brooms witches used, do you think she would surrender them so easily?”

 

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