12. Fractured
Raela froze in place. Time halted as even the birds withdrew their song. Beyond her aunties, sitting with her subdued cubs, Mother Bear huffed. Mo cast her a glare before stepping forward.
“What in the heavens and earth and seas are you doing? Who is that wolf? Who is that man? Why is he touching you? Why is he in this forest? Did I not forbid you from speaking to or welcoming anyone in the forest this autumn?”
Auntie Toru began to wail, her crooning more like that of a loon than a human. “It’s too late. Too late! The storm is coming! The curse is knocking. The doors have opened.”
“You don’t even know what you’ve done!” Auntie Mo shouted at Raela over her sister. “We found four nearly completed mushroom circles on our way here. You’ve been neglecting your most important duty! Because of a man!”
Auntie Toru was rocking back and forth, holding her stomach. “Too late. Too old. Too late. Too old! We knew it was coming. We knew.”
“Torulonmana’at, cease your screeching!” Auntie Mo whirled on her sister. “I cannot think or speak with you blubbering!” With a squeaking pip, Auntie Toru placed her knobby fingers over her mouth and turned away. Auntie Mo huffed a breath and reached for Raela’s hand. But Raela stepped back. She had never seen Auntie Mo so livid in her life. When she glanced down, her auntie’s hand was trembling. That’s when Raela noticed how wide her auntie’s eyes were, their whites completely visible, and realized—Auntie Mo was afraid.
“Aunties.” Raela found her voice. “What’s going on?”
Auntie Toru gasped a wail, and Auntie Mo reached for Raela’s hand again, drawing her down the path through the oak trees toward home. “There is so much you don’t know. So much we have failed to tell you. So many mistakes we have made. So many reasons you can never see that man again.”
Raela stopped in her tracks, ripping her hand from her auntie’s. “What did you say?”
Auntie Mo’s proud shoulders slumped, cowering and uncharacteristic. Her voice was low and sad. “You can never see him again. You are promised—betrothed to be married—to another man.”
Raela stumbled back and barely caught her hand against the rough bark. “I am promised? I have only just learned about marriage this very moment, and I have already been promised?”
Auntie Toru came up beside her and slipped her arm around Raela’s elbow, patting it softly. “It happened when you were born. A promise between your parents and his. A marriage of their children.”
Raela was panting, shaking her head against the impossibility of it all. Her heart had been so happy just moments before, and now she couldn’t keep her promise to Killian. She couldn’t be his mate. She couldn’t be with him. Her eyes misted over.
She couldn’t kiss him. She hadn’t even known how much she wanted it until now—until the very possibility was ripped away. Her eyes flashed to her aunties.
They had kept this from her.
“How could you not tell me?” She glanced to the sky, the blue barely visible between the leaves. “How could you keep this from me?”
A tear slipped down Auntie Mo’s rounded cheek. “We thought it would be better and safer. We thought the magic would keep you happier with us here until the time came to tell you everything. We were going to tell you tonight. After midnight. When you would finally be safe.”
Raela jolted. “Tonight? Why tonight?”
Auntie Toru picked at her fingertips. “Because you turn eighteen at midnight. The curse from a bad, bad f—woman will start to be broken. She wants to hurt you. That’s why we hid you. Your parents sent you to us to raise and protect you. Your curse will be broken when you turn eighteen and marry your future husband. Tomorrow. On your birthday.”
So that’s why they had started the birthday soup this morning instead of tomorrow like usual. If there had been any blood left in Raela’s face, it was gone now. Her mind was buzzing like bees over clover, a chaotic blend of information, shock, outrage … and hurt.
Auntie Mo stepped before Raela, and Auntie Toru shuffled beside her. They brought their hands together above their foreheads and bowed forward, both leaning so far forward, they fell to their knees. “I’m so sorry.” Auntie Mo said, Auntie Toru repeating the words in whispers after her. “We wanted it to be a happy surprise. We wanted you to be excited.” They clung to the hem of her dress, enacting the ultimate apology. “We have made so many mistakes.”
Raela frowned in new understanding. “Is this why you both have been so tearful lately?”
Auntie Mo nodded. “We didn’t want to lose you to them. To the humans outside the forest. To those people. We’ve been selfish.”
Raela had to agree.
Their grief was clear, but Raela didn’t feel ready to forgive them. She patted their heads instead. The anger and ache fought for dominance in her chest. What would she tell Killian? How could she say the words? What would he do? What would she do?
“Your mother and father will be there,” Auntie Mo whispered.
The pain in her chest struck again. Parents. She had parents. Clearing her throat, she managed to ask, “Are they kind?”
“The very best,” Auntie Toru murmured, keeping her eyes on the ground.
Raela wasn’t convinced that kind people could abandon their child to the forest and neglect them until her aunties released her. But she still wanted to know them. Her soul was torn between her desire for Killian, and the desire to see her family. As if she had a choice. Her choices had never been her own.
Auntie Mo rose slowly, stiffly. “Let’s return to the house. Finish packing. Celebrate with your favorite birthday soup. Watch the moon until the midnight hour has passed. Then we will take you outside the forest. Any sooner and—”
Auntie Toru set her hand on Auntie Mo’s shoulder. “Take us home, Momo.”
Nodding numbly, Raela followed. Her eyes fixed on the grasses, on the dirt and mushrooms, on her shoes. Anywhere but her aunties. Her emotions were whirling, but she felt too stunned to cry. The world around her remained the same. Yet, for her, everything had changed. She was finally leaving the forest, but not the way she had planned. Not with Killian.
She had to tell him. She had to tell him soon, and then never see him again.
Raela couldn’t fathom the idea of him returning to their meadow to see his hope crushed later. Like any splinter it was best to fix it as quickly as possible. Mother Bear sauntered up beside her and placed her head under Raela’s hand.
I’m sorry, little one, she crooned into Raela’s mind. We thought it was best. But you look… She shook her head. I’m so sorry. If I could do it again…
Raela threaded her fingers through the bear’s fur, only slightly comforted. But she had no more words to offer just then. Her next words must be for Killian. Must be to break them apart and break her heart. Unless they could just run away forever.
Unless they could run. The idea blossomed in her mind.
As they arrived home, her aunties muttered about preparations as they bustled around, pulling out a lovely dress unlike anything she had ever seen before, and began lighting candles. But all the while, Raela was planning how she could sneak out and find him. She needed to know what he thought they should do. She knew her duty to keep her aunties’ promises, but what of her promise to Killian?