Page 99 of Wedded Witch

I was never meant to choose.

Kel steps forward, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “Swyn, we’ll figure this out. It’s….well, it’s a lot for all of us to get our heads around. Of course we knew we had a brother, but knowing it and meeting him like this are…well, yeah. My head’s spinning so I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling.”

I swallow, nodding, but my thoughts are racing. Can I really open myself up to Oland the same way I’ve started to with the others? Can I truly accept what Elias has just said? That I’m bound to Oland and the brothers alike?

There’s no question of it. I know it’s true. I have to do this.

I look at Ri, his eyes burning with emotion, then Sol, whose comforting presence makes my heart ache, and Kel, steady as always. And finally, at Oland, whose presence now feels like both a salvation and a burden.

“We need each other,” I whisper, more to myself than to them. “Not just to break the curse, but to stop whatever evil is coming after us.”

But I know one thing for sure: we have to break the curse. And that means accepting everything—every part of this twisted, beautiful bond we share.

Even if it tears me apart.

We takeOland to my ancestral home. It’s closer than the motel. Sol and Kel help lift him, and practically carry him between them the entire way. Luckily the house has a downstairs bedroom where they place him.

Ri hasn’t said a word, but frustration is coming off him in waves.

Sol has shifted and left to go and get Mavis, because apparently she has some healer magic, and Kel offered to sit with Oland while we wait. Ri has disappeared off into the house somewhere, and even though I know I should go and find him and ask him what’s wrong, I don’t.

I just need a minute.

I can’t stop thinking about everything Elias just revealed.

I’m pacing the large open plan living room that once felt cosy and safe, but now feels like a prison of my own thoughts. My chest feels tight, my pulse racing as I replay the moment overand over—Oland lying there, hurt, telling me we’re fated mates. Then Elias, speaking of bonds and balance, and how the curse can only be broken if all of them are with me. Including Oland.

I don’t want it to be true. Ican’twant it to be true.

But I do.

There’s no denying that there was a spark between Oland and I, and I can’t help but wonder what might have happened between us if I hadn’t run.

The room feels stifling. I open the window just to breathe in the fresh air, the scent of rain still lingering, but it does nothing to soothe the storm raging inside me.

My fingers dig into the windowsill, my thoughts running wild.

It’s not that I don’t care about Oland. I do. He’s been a constant, a protector—even when I ran from him, according to my family. I know deep down he’s been trying to keep me safe since the moment we wed. Knowing him, probably even before that day.

He is my Watcher after all.

I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the cool glass. What about the brothers? Are the four of them really related? Despite their initial physical differences, I can see similarities between Oland and the triplets.

It doesn’t matter that Oland is all light — hair and eyes — where the twins are dark, there’s undeniable similarities in their bone structure, the shape of their lips, the slant of their proud noses. And their impressive physiques.

I can see the familial resemblance now, but it’s not surprising that I missed it before.

A pang hits me deep in my chest. Kel, Sol, Ri—they’ve become more than just my protectors. They’ve become…mine. The bond I have with them isn’t something I can walk away from, and I don’t want to.

It’s grown stronger with every day, every look, every touch. But now, Oland’s a part of it too, and I can’t help but feel like everything is being ripped out from under me.

A knock on the door startles me out of my thoughts. “Swyn?” Sol’s voice is soft, but even through the wood, I can hear the concern lacing his tone.

I hesitate. I’m not ready to face them, to explain the tangled mess inside me, but I can’t ignore him either. “Come in,” I murmur, not turning away from the window.

The door creaks open, and his footsteps approach before I feel his warmth beside me. Mavis hurries past us to go and tend to Oland. Sol doesn’t say anything at first; he just stands there, close enough that his presence is a comfort, but far enough that he’s giving me space.

“I can feel your thoughts from out there,” he finally says, a hint of a smile in his voice. “You’re practically buzzing with them.”