Chapter 20 - Reeyan
Two days pass before I realize I’ve been living in the same clothes.
The silence in my house is oppressive without Sera here to fill it.
She left for Wyn and Raegan’s place the morning after our fight.
Left while I was in the shower and took her things from the guest room without saying goodbye.
Raegan texted me later to confirm Sera had arrived safely and asked me to give her space to come to terms with everything.
So, I’ve been alone for two days. No sound of her moving around. No arguing about historical interpretations over breakfast. No presence that makes everything feel less empty than it has for years.
I throw myself into research because thinking about how badly things went is unbearable.
The desk where we had sex still has papers scattered across it—I’ve been working on the floor instead, surrounded by books and documents that might explain how to actually break a three-hundred-year-old curse instead of the woman attempting it.
The more I read, the more uncomfortable truths emerge.
The curse feeds on emotional disconnection and isolation. Moira Ashwood designed it that way. The more Llewelyn women pulled away from bonds and relationships, the stronger the magic became. Three centuries of reinforcing that pattern means the binding is deeply entrenched in their bloodline.
Which means breaking it requires the opposite. A public demonstration of love and trust. A witnessed ceremony where Sera has to stand in front of everyone and declare she chooses connection over isolation.
Nearly impossible for someone raised with Llewelyn conditioning. Doubly impossible for someone who has every reason to be furious with me.
I’m sketching out potential ritual components when footsteps on my porch make me look up. The knock that follows is familiar—Wyn’s particular pattern of three quick raps.
“Come in.” I don’t bother standing. Probably looks like hell anyway after two days of not sleeping.
Wyn enters and surveys the disaster that used to be my study.
Books everywhere, papers covering the floor, and empty coffee mugs forming small colonies on every flat surface.
He doesn’t comment on it. Just closes the door behind him and leans against it with the kind of posture that says this conversation won’t be pleasant.
“Thornridge is moving.” No preamble. Just the news delivered flat and direct. “Greater numbers than we’ve seen before. Our scouts report they’re positioning forces near Llewelyn’s eastern border.”
I set down my pen. “How many?”
“At least fifty, possibly more. Could be coordinating with other cells we haven’t detected yet.” He pulls out his phone and shows me the scout reports. “They’re not hiding their presence anymore. Want us to know they’re there.”
“Psychological warfare. Make Llewelyn panic and react poorly.” I study the positions marked on his map. “When?”
“Soon. A couple of weeks at most.” Wyn pockets the phone. “You were right. They know about the curse, Reeyan. Our intelligence intercepts show they’ve been discussing it in their operations channels. Either they have their own expert, or they must have sources inside one of the packs.”
“What are they saying about it?” But I already know the answer. I can see it on Wyn’s face.
“That they know Sera is the key. You were right about that, too. If they can eliminate her before the curse breaks, Llewelyn stays vulnerable indefinitely. They’ve identified that she’s in our territory and are discussing extraction or assassination as part of their pre-attack strategy.”
The words make my blood run cold, and I suck in a breath. “When?”
“Could be any time. They know she’s away from Llewelyn territory, separated from her pack.” He pulls up another message on his phone. “Raegan’s put up protective wards around the property, but those only do so much against determined operatives with suppressors.”
I stand and pace to the window. “How much time does she have?” I ask without turning around. “To make the choice before circumstances make it for her?”
“Not much. If Thornridge attacks while the curse is active, Llewelyn falls. If the curse isn’t broken before that happens…” Wyn trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish. “She needs to decide soon.”
“I can’t push her. The magic won’t work if she’s acting under duress. You know that as well as I do.”
“I know. But sitting here doing nothing while Thornridge positions for attack isn’t working, either.” He moves away from the door. “When’s the last time you talked to her?”
“Two days ago. Right after I told her about the marriage requirement and she walked out. She’s dealing with everything she learned about her pack and what breaking the curse requires. Pushing her now would only make things worse.”
“Would it? Or are you just afraid of what she’ll say?” Wyn challenges. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re hiding in your house doing research instead of fighting for your mate.”
“You’re assuming she wants to be fought for.” I return to the papers on the floor. “She made it clear she hates being in this position. Hates that breaking the curse means marrying me. Pushing harder won’t change her mind. It’ll just confirm every suspicion she has about me manipulating her.”
“So you’re giving up.”
“I’m respecting her autonomy to make her own choice without pressure from me.” I organize documents that don’t need organizing. “Isn’t that what your mate told me I should do?”
Wyn crouches beside me, forcing me to look at him. “Are you so terrified of rejection that you’d rather hide than risk hearing her say no?”
The accusation lands harder than it should. Because he’s right. I am terrified. Terrified that Sera will choose to walk away. That she’ll decide her pack isn’t worth the cost of binding herself to me. That the mate bond we share isn’t enough to overcome three hundred years of curse conditioning.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, throwing my hands in the air. “Show up at your house and demand she make a decision? Force a conversation she’s clearly not ready for?”
“I want you to be honest with her.” He stands and heads for the door. “Tell her about Thornridge. Tell her time is running out. But more importantly than all that, tell her what you actually want from all this instead of hiding behind ritual requirements and historical research.”
“She doesn’t want to hear what I want.”
“Maybe not. But she deserves to know anyway.” Wyn pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “Raegan’s making dinner. You should come. Talk to Sera without me having to drag you there.”
He leaves before I can argue, and the silence returns, even heavier than before.
I look around my destroyed study. Papers and books scattered everywhere. Research that might break a curse or might just be a useless academic exercise. A desk I can’t use anymore without remembering how Sera looked spread across it, furious and wanting and mine.
Wyn’s right. Hiding here accomplishes nothing.
I shower for the first time in two days and change into clean clothes. Find my keys and force myself out the door before I can talk myself out of this. The drive to Wyn’s house takes ten minutes but feels like hours.
Raegan answers when I knock, and her psychic abilities probably show her exactly how much of a mess I am.
“She’s in the guest room.” No greeting, just the information delivered with the kind of directness I appreciate. “Has been since she got here two days ago. Barely eating, not sleeping. You both look like hell.”
“Thanks.”
She steps aside to let me in. “I’m not trying to be mean. Just honest. Whatever happened between you two, fix it. Or at least try. This silent misery thing isn’t working for anyone.”
I find Sera exactly where Raegan said—curled up on the bed in the guest room with a book she’s clearly not actually reading. She looks up when I appear in the doorway, and something crosses her face too quickly for me to identify.
“Can we talk?” I stay in the doorway, giving her space. “I have news. About Thornridge.”
She sets down the book. “What kind of news?”
I clear my throat and swallow hard. “They’re positioning forces near Llewelyn’s eastern border.
At least fifty operatives, possibly more.
But that’s not the only news. Our intelligence confirms they know about the curse—we suspected as much when they came after you the first time.
They know you’re in Grayhide territory.”
She goes very still. “They know I’m here?”
“They’re discussing either extraction or elimination before you can attempt the ritual. And they’re starting to mobilize additional forces in this direction along with their positioning near Llewelyn.”
“So you’re here to tell me I’m running out of time,” she surmises with a shake of her head. “That I need to decide whether to marry you before Thornridge either kills me or attacks my pack.”
“I’m only here to tell you what’s happening and let you choose what to do with that information.
If you want to attempt breaking the curse, we need to coordinate with the Hysopp Coven and prepare the ritual now, here in Grayhide, where we can protect you during the ceremony.
If you don’t, you need to decide whether to return to Llewelyn, where your pack can protect you, or stay here, where we can keep you safe, but remain separated from your people. ”
She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “Again, those aren’t real choices. They’re just different versions of the same trap.” She stands and moves to the window.
“I know,” I concede. “And I’m sorry this is the position you’re in. Sorry, the universe decided to make you the key to breaking magic you never asked to deal with, and that I’m part of why this feels impossible.”
“Are you?” she challenges, turning to face me. “Sorry, I mean. Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?”
The question deserves honesty. Complete, painful honesty without hiding behind careful phrasing or diplomatic language.
“I’m sorry you’re in this position. Sorry, the mate bond happened when you weren’t ready for it, and I kept it secret instead of telling you right away.
I should’ve known that you wouldn’t recognize it based on what I already knew about your people.
But I’m not sorry we completed the bond, physically, anyway.
And I’m not sorry I get to be the one standing beside you through this.
Nor am I sorry that breaking the curse requires marrying me, even though I know I should be. ”
She tilts her head to the side, eyeing me. “Why? Why aren’t you sorry about that part?”
“Because it means I get you,” I state, holding my arms out wide as if to signal it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“For however long this lasts before you realize you can do better. I get to call you mine in front of everyone. Get to stand beside you while you do something impossible and brave and be part of your life in a way I never thought I’d have with anyone. ”
“That’s selfish.”
“Yes. Yes, it is. I’m being selfish by wanting this. By hoping you’ll choose to go through with it despite having every reason to walk away.”
She stares at me for a long moment. Studies my face like she’s searching for lies or manipulation hiding under the honesty.
“And if I say no?” She doesn’t back away when I approach. “If I decide marrying you isn’t worth it, even to break the curse?”
“Then I respect that choice and help defend your territory when Thornridge attacks.” Simple. Direct. True. “I’ll hate watching you deal with the consequences, but it’s your decision to make. Your life. Your pack. Your choice about whether binding yourself to me is worth the cost.”
“You’re really giving me an out.” She sounds almost surprised. “Not pushing. Not manipulating. Just…letting me choose. Just as you have from the beginning…even when I was too frustrated to see it.”
“I’ve already pushed too hard by omitting details and using treaty authority to make you stay. I’m done making your choices for you.”
“Even if I choose wrong?”
“There’s no wrong choice. Just the one you can live with and the one you can’t.” I stop a few feet away, close enough to see the conflict in her pale blue eyes. “I’ll support either one.”
She opens her mouth to respond, and I wait for whatever comes next. Rejection or acceptance, or more questions, I’ll answer as honestly as I can.