Page 50 of Wedded Witch

Kel steps closer, his eyes scanning mine for any hint of deception. “What kind of curse, Swyn?” His tone is urgent, pressing, protective.

I press my lips together, my heart hammering in my chest. “A blood curse. One that ties us to this town, to the magic here. If I don’t break it, my entire family is doomed.”

The room goes dead silent. Sol stares at me, Ri’s jaw tightens, and Kel’s face goes pale. And just like that, everything I’ve been hiding comes crashing out into the open.

Well, almost everything. I still have more to tell them.

And I have no idea what’s going to happen next.

SOL

As Swyn’swords settle over me, a sense of dread encroaches. My stomach tightens, and I feel the weight of something far darker than any of us had anticipated.

A curse. Of course, there’s a curse. Why else would someone like her come to a place like Spells Hollow? She’s tied to this town in more ways than one.

“Tell us everything, clover,” I murmur, stepping closer. My voice is soft, but it carries the weight of a command, and I don’t miss the way her shoulders tense under the pressure.

Swyn looks between the three of us, her eyes wide and uncertain, like a rabbit caught in a trap. She’s hiding something more—I justknowit. But now that we know she’s fated to us, she can’t keep whatever this is from us any longer.

Swyn presses her lips together, weighing whether to trust us with the truth. Finally, she speaks, her voice barely low and shaky.

“It started generations ago. My family, the Galdurs… we were once powerful witches, protectors of the magic in this world.But we’re dying out. Our power is fading. I think…I think Spells Hollow might have been the original birth place of our coven.”

I exchange a glance with Kel, who’s gone pale, his jaw clenched. Ri stands rigid beside him, arms crossed, but I can see the way his eyes are trained on Swyn, how the slightest tremor in her voice makes him uneasy.

None of us are strangers to the complex history of Spells Hollow. We ourselves come from a long line of magic wielding warlocks who can shift, and whose duty it is to protect the gateway to the Underworld.

There have always been evils trying to escape, but lately there’s been more activity than usual.

Is Swyn somehow connected to the recent unrest?

I hope not.

She continues, “One of my ancestors was the first to be cursed and now, every Galdur is cursed. Fertility issues, dwindling power... Our bloodline is fading. We can’t produce enough heirs, and without them, the magic will die with us. If I don’t have a child before my twenty-second birthday, the entire Galdur line will be erased—and worse, something evil will be unleashed. My family’s magic is one of the last barriers holding back some unknown force of darkness.”

Her voice wavers, her hands clutching the edge of the couch like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“I’m the last hope. If I don’t break the curse or produce an heir... I’ll die, my family will die, and the world will be defenceless against whatever is waiting to be unleashed. That’s all I know. Make babies, which Ireallydon’t want to do, or find a way to break the curse. I just don’t have a clue how.”

A thick silence blankets the room. The kind that makes the air feel heavier, like you can’t take a full breath.She’s not just running from her family—she’s racing against time.

“You should’ve told us sooner,” Ri growls, his voice hard, but I can hear the fear beneath it. He’s as shaken as I am, though he’d never admit it.

“You think you can just waltz into this town, pull some magic trick, and fix centuries of this curse hanging over your family?”

Swyn’s eyes flash, and she clenches her fists as she snaps, “I didn’t have a choice!” The words hang in the air, sharp and raw, cutting deeper than she intended. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, like she’s just realised what she said, and her lips press together as if she’s trying to reel it back in.

My pulse quickens, a sense of something darker behind those words. Kel’s brow furrows, his eyes narrowing as he steps forward.

“What do you mean, Swyn? What choice didn’t you have?”

She hesitates, glancing down at her hands. “It’s… it’s not just the curse. My family arranged a marriage for me.”

Her voice drops to a whisper, but the weight of those words crashes through the room like a tidal wave. My stomach twists as the meaning sinks in.

“A marriage?” Ri’s voice is low, but there’s a dangerous edge to it. His arms uncross, and I see the tension ripple through his shoulders, barely restrained. “They arranged for you to marry someone?”

Swyn bites her lip and nods, her voice tight. “Yeah. I think he’s—he’s supposed to protect me. He’s my family’s Watcher. It’s tradition in the Galdur family—there’s always a Watcher, someone to guard us. Only, they decided he should be my husband too.”

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