by Alana Hart
“Merrie? What’s wrong? What happened?” Cassie asked, rushing to my side. “What did he do?” she demanded, shaking my arm.
Giving up any hope of peace and quiet, I followed her upstairs, sinking gratefully into a chair. Shivering, I pulled my legs up to my chest, curling up, hoping to thaw some of the cold that still gripped me.
Cassie settled down next to me, tucking a blanket up to my chin.
“Oh, Merrie…what did he do?” she asked softly, gently stroking my hair as if I were a child.
Sniffing, I blinked watery eyes, my gaze unfocused. Pain thudded, deep inside my chest. It hurt too much.
“Shush. There now,” she murmured, her voice threaded with worry. “Just tell me this — did he reject you? As his mate?”
I forced a nod, biting my lip furiously to lock everything inside.
“It hurts so bad, Cassie,” I croaked, a tear escaping, plopping on the blanket.
“I know, I know,” she said, rubbing my back in big, rhythmic circles. “I…I have something I have to tell you. You need to know, it doesn’t help anymore for you not to…”
Confused, I stared at her. She wanted to have a heart to heart now — when my heart was destroyed, shattered into a million pieces?
“Can’t it wait?”
“Not really, I’m sorry. More sorry than you know, but you will — soon.” She gave a wry chuckle, the sound forced and strained.
Maybe this would take my mind off…I forced myself to sit up.
“Spit it out, then.”
“Well…bear with me…you know how we all look alike?”
“Not really. We don’t look anything alike.”
“Not us. Like our Grandmother and Aunt? Like Mom looks like Great-Grandmother?”
“And? We’ve always looked alike. In pictures…” I waited for her to carry on.
Cassie fell silent, organizing her thoughts. “We are them,” she blurted, grabbing my hand.
I stared at her. Everyone was losing it around here…
“I’m Aunt Cassandra. You’re Grandmother Meridith. Mom is Great-Grandmother Lucinda.”
“No. No, I’m not. And no, you’re not.” I leaned back, increasing the gap between us. “Are you crazy?” I demanded to know, worry about her eclipsing my problems for the moment.
“It’s true. I swear by the Mother of All. We didn’t tell you, we kept your memories from you in this rebirth because you were so…upset after what happened with Craig…last time…” her words slowed as she watched my face carefully, looking for a reaction.
I sat back, stunned. She was definitely crazy.
“That’s why you’re not very powerful, this time round. Why you feel different, left out. But you were heartbroken, inconsolable…and so very angry. You didn’t want to live without him. Merrie…you wanted to end it! You couldn’t forgive yourself for what you had done, but you couldn’t forgive him, either. It was tearing you apart. So, we decided…”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Mom and me. Well, she’s not really Mom…we all play that part at some point… Anyway, we decided that this time around, you could have a chance at being happy. Live a normal life.”
“And how did that work out for you?” I asked bitterly, still struggling to believe a single word she was saying.
She continued, her head in her hands.
“It’s like you’re linked to him, somehow. Even though you don’t remember. He calls to you. And now it’s happened again!” Obviously distressed, she raked her fingers through her meticulous hair.
“We’ve got to give you back your memories,” she muttered, obviously lost in thought.
Absolutely loopy, I decided.
“So, go on then,” I suggested, playing along.
With a lurch, she spun in her seat, swiftly placing one cool hand against my forehead, the other aligned with my heart, pressed to my chest.
“This might hurt a little,” she said quickly, before muttering a string of words under her breath. I strained to hear the words, catching the odd phrase, and not recognizing any.
I shrugged as she fell silent, finished. “I feel fine…”
Sharp pain exploded inside my skull, needles of fire ricocheting, driving through my mind, piercing my soul. I collapsed back against the couch, my limbs limp. The room faded, dulling to a muted gray against the backdrop of memories that were crowding in, a kaleidescope of vivid colors. Hundreds and hundreds of them, squeezing and squeezing. Sweet Mother, it hurt!
Thankfully, everything went black.
***
Merrie
“Merrie? Merrie? Are you okay?” a voice asked, piercing the fogginess wrapped around me.
Merrie, who? I winced, pressing a hand to my aching head, struggling to remember. Remember what? Forcing my eyes open, I squinted against the sudden bright light. Too much. Am I okay?
“Merrie, you’re starting to scare me…” The voice again. She sounded worried…for me? For Merrie?
I slowly turned my head, seeking the voice. Cassie! It all came back in a rush. Sweet Mother…I remembered everything. All my lives. Right back to the beginning when the Mother had chosen us to carry her powers on Earth. I was on my sixth life now.
“I remember,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.
“Oh, Cassie. I remember everything.” I shuddered as the dam broke, the sobs tearing from me, burning my lungs and scratching in my chest. Everything I had done, experienced, lived — it was all there, complete. I felt whole again…and destroyed. What had I done? I moaned aloud, replaying the memories of my last life — the one in which I had met Craig — and sentenced him to a life of loneliness.
“Why did I do it, Cassie?”
“Craig?”
I nodded, unable to speak past the horror, the guilt.
“He destroyed you. You remember now — he led you to believe you were mates. He took your heart…”
“He didn’t tell me he was a shifter, that we were mates…”
“But you already knew.”
And I had. I had been so happy, thinking that it was finally my time to find someone to love. Someone to heal the lonely chasm in my soul from living so many times. My soul had called to him, I had felt it. But he had rejected me.
“But he didn’t deserve that — the curse.”
“He broke your heart. Your soul had already started to join his…Merrie, you needed time to heal. To forget.” Cassie peered at me anxiously. “I missed you so much,” her voice broke, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“And I missed you too, so, so much,” I said, throwing my arms around her and hugging her close. My dearest sister, one of my only companions for so many years. To make such a sacrifice…
“Thank you,” I whispered into her hair, “for giving me the time to heal. For protecting me.”
“I couldn’t stand it…you were a shell…and…” she mumbled, sniffing and wiping her eyes.
“I know. You did what you had to do.” But in doing so, a man had suffered for eighty-seven years. I would never forgive myself – I had used my magic to hurt, to punish. Maybe it was for the best he hated me, and my kind.
“He hates us, you know. Witches. Because of what I did.”
She nodded, squeezing my hand.
“I wasn’t his mate the first time I met him. And because of what I did…now I am his mate…any chance of him loving me, trusting me fully, is gone. I would always know how he really felt, and rightly so. How could I be with someone?”
“You couldn’t, Merrie. Not with the rebirth. Your past self was not quite the match for his animal…”
“Bear. He’s a wonderful, handsome bear.”
“Right, bear,” she continued. “And this time, you match. But what about next time…”
My blood froze. She was right. The question of whether we could trust, whether I could tell him the truth and he could forgive was not important. When I died and was reborn again, remembering everything — our love, our past — would we still match?
“I’ve thought about this a lot over the last couple of days, rung Mom as well and asked her advice. I asked the Mother of All, too.”
“Did she answer you? Tell you why?” I held my breath, hoping, praying. All I wanted was the chance to make my own decision. Not to have it taken away from me.
“Not in so many words. I did dream that each time we are reborn, our souls take in a little more of the Mother’s power, her essence, if you will, adding to the power we already have as individuals. A witch that has lived twenty lives carries more of the Mother’s essence than a witch that has lived three lives. Our souls alter, only minutely though, each time with the added power.”
“So, with the addition of even a fraction more power, my soul may not be in tune with Craig’s anymore?” This life was the only one in which I was Craig’s true mate. Did I want to spend it with him? He, who at the very heart of it, despised me? And I would have to leave him in the end, alone again. Mate-less once more. And I would have to live with the memories…
“I can’t do it.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I just can’t,” I added weakly. “But, I can’t leave him like this, cursed. It’s not fair.”
“We lift it, then?”
Resolution burned in my chest. It was better that he lived a full life, not knowing the loss of a mate, than to suffer through a different type of curse — one of mistrust, hidden resentment, and guaranteed to end with a broken heart. If I told him what I had done, who I was… It was better this way. For both of us.
“Yes, we lift it,” I replied firmly, “and then I never want to see him again.”
A clean break. For him.
***
Craig
I tipped back the amber colored liquid, downing it in one fiery swallow. Signaling across the bar for another, I spun the stout glass, watching it circle drunkenly on the scratched wood, before coming to rest on its side.
The bartender deposited another whiskey in front of me, retrieving the fallen glass in one smooth movement. He had probably seen it all. Another sorry soul drowning his problems in the bottle — just par for the course. My bear lolled inside me, dejected and silent. He didn’t understand. I was the one who had fucked things up.
Picking the glass up, determined to make it to oblivion, I had it halfway to my lips when a large hand slapped me on the shoulder, jarring me and spilling the precious liquid.
“What the?” I growled, curling my free hand into a fist, ready to seek a different way to oblivion.
“Easy, Craig!”
It was Ralph. I peeled my eyelids a little further open. And Ryan. Great.
“Go ’way,” I muttered, turning back to focus on my glass.
“No can do, bro,” Ralph said cheerfully, swinging onto the stool next to me.
Jeez. What did a man have to do?
“We’ve been looking for you. Ryan called up, and Mitch over there, kindly informed us you were here.”
Mitch, my friendly bartender, tapped a finger to his brow. I scowled at him. No way I was tipping him now.
“So. What do you want?”
“Well, we went to your cabin. Mom wanted us to chase you down, after you left so abruptly…” Ryan started.
“So why’d you chase me down here?”
Ralph signaled for a drink.
“We wanted to congratulate you on your mating. The signs, the scents were…unmissable…” he said, smirking into his glass.
The little… I growled low in my throat.
“Easy, bro,” Ryan cautioned, raising his hands.
“Ralph, quit it for once.” He plucked the glass out of my hand, taking a swallow.
“Get your own goddamned drink.”
“What happened?” he replied, passing me back the now empty glass.
I mournfully eyed the empty tumbler, twisting it in my hand.
“I screwed up. Again. I went to take her as my mate…and I froze. I couldn’t do it.”
Ralph cursed under his breath, shooting me a look filled with contempt.
“Do you know what I would give to find my mate? And you — having found yours — decide just to fuck and leave her? She’s your true mate, not some whore you screw over!”
His words hit me like bullets.
“As you very well know, I’ve not been screwing — or anything — for the last eighty-seven…”
“Yes, yes. We know,” Ralph hissed, his face crowding mine. “Poor Craig. Unable to get it up because of the big bad curse. Excuses! Those of us that aren’t cursed — do you think we’ve been screwing everything in sight, just because we can?”
“Haven’t you?” I asked, bitterness sour on my tongue.
Ralph opened his mouth to reply, his face flushed, but Ryan stepped in.
“No, we’re not. Haven’t been for a long time. It’s empty, bro. Just sex. Just another woman, another reminder that she’s not the one we’re looking for.”
What? I sat back, nearly falling off the stool. Balancing precariously, I stared at them. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because you’ve been so wrapped up in your own misery, the fact that you didn’t have the choice. The last thing you wanted to hear was that having the choice isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Ryan explained, sighing.
Ralph downed his drink, setting the glass down carefully on the bar. He turned and locked gazes with me, a tortured expression creasing his face.
“You didn’t deserve the curse, bro, but that’s not why you feel empty. We feel it, too. It’s just part of being a shifter. We’re not complete until we’ve found our mate. And you’ve found yours…you need to snap out of this, deal with whatever shit you need to deal with, and put the past to rest. She doesn’t deserve this.”
I nodded, hearing the ring of truth in his words. But how could she forgive me? After what I had done? I inwardly winced, remembering the look on her face…I had humiliated her, abused her trust, taken her gift and smashed it.
My chest burned with the recollection, a tingling over my heart, growing and heating. A physical pain.
“Shit!” I clawed at my shirt, ripping the fabric away from my skin, patting at my chest ineffectually. The burning sensation reached a climax, rushing through my veins, down my arms, through my stomach and straight to my cock — my, all of a sudden, painfully hard cock. I gripped it, just to make sure. Yup, hard as nails.
“Uh, bro. Do you need a moment alone?”
I had no idea which one of my brother had spoken, and I could barely think.
“The curse…” I croaked out, struggling to understand. “…it’s gone. She lifted it.” After all this time, I could feel the blood pumping through my veins, through all my veins.
Ryan whistled through his teeth.
“Quite the lady. After what you did to her.”
“Now, you can go do whatever you want. Sow your seed, plow the fields. She’s given you a gift, one I personally don’t think you deserve.”
“Ralph, enough…” Ryan warned.
She had given me the one thing I had longed for. To be free. What did it mean? My breath caught in my throat.
“Is she setting me free because she doesn’t want me?”
“Why would she want you? You didn’t want her?”
“Ralph, I said, enough!” Ryan growled, glowering.
“But I do want her…”
“Funny way of showing it,” Ralph bit back, scowling at me.
“She could have left me, cursed and alone. But she didn’t. That must mean she cares for me, still.”
“She’s still a witch,” Ryan murmured, his tone questioning.
“She gave me back my choice. She made a choice…everyone has a choice.”
Ryan laid his hand on my shoulder, shaking me.
“Uh, Craig? You’re not making sense.”
“It’s our choices that make us who we are. Not what we are, shifters or witches. They’re jus
t labels.”
“Finally, he’s got it!” Ryan cried, his face breaking into a big grin.
“Thought you were never going to get there, bro.” He slapped the bar, grabbing Mitch’s attention. “Three more whiskey’s, no make it two and a coffee to sober this one up,” he said, indicating me. He leaned forward eagerly.
“Now, how are you going to convince her to take your foolish ass back?”
I was going to get her back, come hell or high water. I accepted the cup of bitter coffee, wincing at the burned aftertaste.
“I think I need to do some grovelling.”
“Well, sure. Of course, you do. But Merrie…”
“Not Merrie. Cassie. I need her to help me. But first, I have to convince her I’m the right person for her sister. And then I need her to…” I continued explaining, as the nuggets of a plan started to form in my mind.
CHAPTER NINE
Merrie
I lugged the last box from upstairs through the kitchen, stacking it on top of the rest, against the wall at the back of the shop. At least the movers wouldn’t grumble at having to go up and down the stairs. I was leaving the big furniture for whoever bought the shop, if it ever sold. I remembered I had some lovely pieces collected over the years, in storage just waiting to be rediscovered.
The bell above the door dinged behind me.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” I called, not bothering to turn around. Nothing to buy here anyway — not anymore. The now familiar sadness threatened to choke me, and I stuffed it ruthlessly back down. No time, not now.
The door closed with a soft click.
The movers were coming in a couple of hours, just enough time to…
“Merrie.”
I whirled around, my heart in my throat.
“You! You can’t be here. Please go…” I pleaded, my eyes drinking in the sight of Craig leaning casually against the shop door. Dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and shirt, he seemed even bigger than before, stronger — more alive. The sun streamed through the dusty windows, glinting off his golden hair and highlighting his handsome face.
