Chapter Seven #3
“Those who cursed us wish us to fail and will do whatever they can to see that happen.” Morganna set the brush aside and started plaiting.
“They have yet to take one of the fated mates’ lives, but they have tormented some of them enough to make them decide they needed peace more than they needed their soul mates.
” She paused and made a thoughtful humming sound.
“I could be wrong, but I dinna believe they will kill a fated mate. To do so would nullify the curse’s rules that they themselves set in place.
The lives they most wish to erase are those of us from the rebellion that gave birth to Craig Durness.
” She added hair combs to the sides, then tied ribbons around the base of the intricate braid and draped it over the front of Evie’s shoulder.
“And ye’ll not know it is they who are attacking ye, because their goal is for ye to choose yer old life, yer own time.
They wish ye to shun the mate bond even though to do so would cause everlasting grief and loneliness.
” She held a polished copper mirror in front of Evie and smiled.
“I am here to help ye. Protect ye. If ye convince them ye’ll not veer from yer choice, they’ll leave ye be.
Think of it, lass. A life of love and happiness with yer Drummond. ”
“I do not belong here,” Evie said, her middle churning again. Her head wasn’t hurting anymore, but it wouldn’t take much for her to throw up.
Morganna returned to the table and selected a bronze circlet with a ruby set in its center. She also picked up a ruby necklace and something else Evie couldn’t see. “So, ye feel nothing for Drummond MacMuirrow? No attraction whatsoever?”
“I don’t belong here.” Evie squirmed on the cushioned footstool, determined not to admit that she was very much attracted to that handsome Highland chief. It was time to change the subject. “What about panties or underwear?”
“Ye’re bare under yer skirts. Trust me. With chamber pots and garderobes, ’tis easier that way.”
“What in the world is a garderobe?”
Morganna placed the circlet on Evie’s head and the necklace around her neck.
“An indoor outhouse, ye might say if ye were back at yer Tennessee.” She picked up Evie’s left hand and slid a ring on her forefinger.
“This is from my land. The Otherworld. Watch the stone. It changes color whenever ye find yerself in the presence of the Fae.”
The large, oval, faceted stone was currently a deep blood red. Evie pointed at Morganna. “But if you’re in the room, won’t it just tell me that you’re here?”
“No. Because it is my magic that created it. When a Fae—whether Seelie or Unseelie—comes close, it will change to a dark emerald green.” Morganna nodded at the ring.
“Wear it always. Even in bed.” She resettled her stance and folded her arms across her chest. “I noticed ye did not answer. Ye feel no attraction for Drummond MacMuirrow? Petra will be sorely disappointed. Her magic has always done well when it comes to sensing souls calling out across time for one another.”
Something about Morganna’s expression changed, piquing Evie’s interest. “What are you not telling me?”
Morganna jutted her chin higher. Her eyes narrowed. “Ye go first.”
Evie snorted and threw up her hands. “Fine! Yes. Something is there with Drummond. An impossible-to-ignore attraction. But I don’t belong here.” She gave Morganna a curt nod. “Your turn.”
Morganna’s scowl darkened. “We recently lost three of the pairings we matched. Possibly more. Callum was waiting for confirmation when I left Craig Durness.”
“I thought you said the bad guys weren’t allowed to kill the unsuspecting human pawns.” Because that was exactly what Evie felt like, a pawn in the bored immortals’ game of chess.
“They did not kill them. They tormented them enough to make them reverse the choice they had made. Remember what I told ye.”
“Explain the rules of this choice to me. In detail, please.” Evie had the distinct impression that she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.
“Ye must choose to forfeit the time from which ye came and accept yer mate’s century as yer own.
Forever. Ye will never be allowed to return to the twenty-first century as long as ye are bound to Drummond.
Only the severing spell destroys the bond and allows yer return—and once spoken, the spell cannot be reversed.
Fated mates torn asunder by it canna rejoin until the next incarnation.
” Morganna blew out a heavy sigh. “And sometimes, not even then. The severing spell damages a soul. Isolates it with scars.”
She laced her fingers together and folded her hands as if ready to pray.
“Even though ye have no choice over who yer fated mate might be, ye always have the choice whether or not ye embrace the unbelievably satisfying love that the melded bond offers.” She sadly shook her head.
“Those three pairs we lost forgot that no matter the century and no matter the relationship, there will always be challenges to overcome. There is no such thing as an existence without some sort of trials.”
“How close are you to the one-thousand-pairs-matched mark? Will you have to wait until they’re reincarnated and try to reconnect them?” After all that Morganna had shared, Evie couldn’t imagine their frustration at losing three of the ones they’d already thought finished.
“We are not close enough to the mark,” Morganna said, her voice cracking.
“And the curse grows impatient. The attacks on the magical boundaries guarding Craig Durness have become more frequent.” Her dark eyes shone with unshed tears.
“We need several more successful matches to save our village, to save those we love. Farbis already lost his beloved Dierdre.”
“Farbis?”
“A gnome who adored his beloved Fae maiden.”
“They killed her?” If this were a dream, Evie would call it a nightmare. She fiddled with the enchanted ring on her finger, the ring meant to protect her. Her heart ached for Farbis’s loss. “Aren’t the terms of the curse supposed to protect you? Give you a fighting chance?”
Morganna offered a smile that held no joy. “Our time to satisfy the terms of the curse is running out. It was never meant to allow us to live peacefully with our loved ones and match fated mates forever.”
A painful realization hit Evie square in the chest. “So if I don’t choose to stay here with Drummond and give up the twenty-first century, you’re short another fated mate match?”
“Aye, lass. And Drummond MacMuirrow will live out his life with an unbearably lonely ache that will never cease. As ye will, once ye return to yer time.” Morganna unleashed another heavy sigh.
“That is why I beg ye to give the man a chance afore ye choose. He is the other half of yer soul. Together, the two of ye could know a completeness ye’ve never imagined. Please. Give this century…some time.”
“But it’s so dangerous here.” All Evie had ever read or seen about history’s hazards exploded through her mind like dozens of live grenades.
“Diseases. Childbirth. War. An injury that in my time would be minor is fatal here. I’m thirty-two years old.
That’s old here. I don’t want to die in a couple of years. ”
“No century guarantees longevity or survival.” Morganna paced back and forth across the room. “Each time has its own dangers. Who’s to say that if ye returned to yer time, ye wouldn’t get killed in some sort of accident? The twenty-first century offers no guarantee of living longer.”
“No, but it’s got better odds than the fourteenth century.” Evie felt sure about that.
“But wouldn’t life with yer one true love be worth those odds?” Morganna covered her heart with both hands. “All I have risked for my Callum has been worth it. Were I asked to do it all over again, I would without hesitation.”
Oh, to know a love like that, a little voice inside Evie whispered. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, held it for a long moment, and then released it. “I’m afraid,” she said, ashamed to admit it.
“Ye’d be a fool if ye weren’t.” Morganna helped her to her feet and gave her a slow, up-and-down look.
“Ye’re a beauty, Lady Evie, but the fairness of yer appearance canna compare to the loveliness of yer heart.
Yer aura burns brightly, child. Brighter than it did in yer time. Give this place a chance. I beg ye.”
“You’ll stay here with me and help me fit in so I can decide what I want to do?” Evie couldn’t believe she was saying this, but something deep inside told her that Morganna wasn’t about to let her return to the twenty-first century without giving the fourteenth century a shot.
“Aye, lass. I shall be happy to remain as Mistress Martha, clan healer, and Lady Evie Waterton’s personal advisor. At least for a time—until ye feel well and truly settled.”
“Fine.” Evie wiped her sweating palms on the folds of her wool gown and eyed the door. “What do we do now?”
“Wait for yer beloved to return and see yer health much improved.”