Page 65 of Wedded Witch

Swyn hesitates before speaking. “What do you mean, it’s what you were made for?”

I glance at her again, the guilt still written all over her face. She deserves to know, but explaining it now, while everything is still raw, doesn’t feel right. But there’s no use in putting it off any longer.

“We’re tasked with guarding one of the gates to the Underworld,” I tell her. “That shadow that attacked us? It wasn’t just some random dark magic. It’s tied to the curse. To Morfran.”

Swyn frowns. “Who’s Morfran?”

I keep my eyes on the road, the memories of the stories we were told as kids swirling in my head.

“Your family didn’t tell you? Morfran was a powerful sorcerer. Three-hundred and fifty years ago, the town of Spells Hollow was peaceful, a sanctuary for witches and other magical beings. The coven’s high priestess, Melisande Nightshade, had lovers from each of the witch families in the coven, including the Galdurs, but she rejected Morfran.”

“She rejected him?” Swyn asks, her voice soft, but there’s something sharper beneath her curiosity.

I nod. “He was powerful, but he was dangerous. Selfish. He used his magic for personal gain, without any care for the consequences. She didn’t love him. But Morfran… he didn’t take rejection well.”

Kel speaks up from the back, calmer now but with a grim edge. “He cursed her. And not just her—he cursed all the families of her lovers. One by one, he picked them off with his magic, twisting their power, until his final curse killed both Melisande and himself.”

“The families scattered,” Sol adds quietly. “They thought if they left Spells Hollow, they could escape the curse. But it followed them. Every family was affected differently, but the curse never went away.”

Swyn is silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of the story. “So… the shadow back there…”

“It’s part of the curse,” I finish for her. “Morfran’s magic never fully died. And now, something—or someone—is trying to finish what he started.”

She swallows hard, and I can see the fear and determination in her eyes.

“And you’re supposed to stop it.”

“We’re not just stopping it,” Kel says from behind us. “We’re keeping Morfran from coming back.”

Swyn’s eyes widen. “Coming back?”

I glance over at her. “Morfran was cursed too. And his soul is tied to the gate of the Underworld. If that gate opens, he’ll return.”

“And you’re the gatekeepers,” she murmurs.

“Exactly.”

Swyn falls silent again, staring ahead as the weight of everything settles on her shoulders. I can’t blame her for feeling guilty, but this isn’t her fault. We were always meant to be here. Protecting the gate, guarding against Morfran’s return—that’s been our job long before she arrived.

But with the curse hanging over her family, we’re all in this together now.

“So my family’s curse…”

“Was caused by Morfran? Yes,” I reply flatly.

“That’s horrible.”

“Every family was cursed in a different way,” Sol adds. “All of them are awful.”

“I had no idea,” she murmurs, stroking her hands over the leather-bound book in her lap. I’m not sure she’s even aware she’s doing it. Does it bring her comfort? Does she feel closer to her family now that she’s found their Book of Shadows? Or is she hoping to find answers within its pages?

I’ll admit, we’ve not cared much about the witches who have come through town, trying to break their curse thus far, but we’ve not been tied to them like we are with Swyn.

Even if she wasn’t fated to be ours, I wouldn’t want her to die.

I just don’t know how to tell her how I feel.

As we near the motel, the tension in the truck eases slightly, but I know it’s far from over. This is just the beginning.

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