Spellbound Fate: A Fantasy Shifter Romance, page 22
“Emery?”
She blinked and looked up, pulling herself out of her spiraling thoughts. Kaeya was watching her, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “If you’re not careful,” she said, her voice laced with humor, “that line between your brows is going to become permanent.”
Emery smiled faintly, trying to force her attention back to the present. “Sorry,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead in self-consciousness. “Woolgathering.”
“Liar,” Kaeya teased, though there was genuine concern in her tone. “But don’t worry. You’ll get back to Callan in one piece, I promise.”
Emery managed a small nod, though the knot in her chest refused to loosen. She watched as Kaeya pulled the car into an open parking space near the butcher’s shop. The rain was picking up again, streaming down the windshield in rivulets that blurred the world beyond. She thought about the groceries they’d gathered, the seemingly mundane items they’d collected. But there was something else—something heavier—lingering between them. Something Emery needed to ask.
She stayed in the car for a moment longer as Kaeya got out to survey the area. The witch moved in slow, deliberate circles, her lips moving silently as she worked her magic. Her fingers danced over the amulet in her hand, tracing invisible symbols, her thumb sliding back and forth over the smooth surface. A quiet spell, keeping watch over the town for any sign of danger. Kaeya didn’t even flinch when a car drove by, but then, she’d been doing this for years.
After a long moment, Kaeya turned back, unlocking the door. “We should be fine,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Where do you want to start?”
“Clothing,” Emery said quickly, eager to have a task in front of her, something to focus on. “Callan needs a few things. And, uh… I need knickers.”
Kaeya’s lips twitched. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” she replied dryly, her tone lighter now.
They moved from store to store, checking off items on the list, but Emery’s mind stayed restless. Every little sound, every shift in the atmosphere made her heart race. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go wrong. Every corner they turned, every person they passed, she half-expected James to jump out from the shadows, or worse, for something to feel off—out of place. But nothing happened. The sky darkened further, and the knot in Emery’s chest tightened.
They reached the last stop, the butcher’s shop, and Kaeya looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Last stop?” she asked, but her tone shifted. Something in her eyes warned Emery that this wasn’t just a normal errand.
Emery hesitated, the words caught in her throat. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the words she needed to say tangled in her mind. She could feel the pressure mounting. Finally, she took a deep breath. “I was… I was thinking about what you said, about banishing Callan.”
Kaeya’s expression hardened instantly, a flicker of unease passing over her features. “But what?” she asked quietly.
Emery swallowed, a cold lump forming in her throat. “I… I don’t think I can do this,” she admitted, her voice low. “James won’t stop until I do the spell for him. I can’t lose Callan. I can’t. But if I… if I banish him…” The thought of it cut through her, sharp and painful. “I can’t live with the idea of him being hurt because of me.”
Kaeya took a step closer, her eyes softening. She placed a gentle hand on Emery’s arm. “I know,” she said. “But there’s something you need to hear. Something you might not want to do.”
Emery turned her face up, her lips trembling. “What do I have to do?” she asked, desperate.
Kaeya exhaled slowly, her gaze far away. “You can break the bond, Emery. If you do, Callan will leave. He’ll most likely disappear back into the forest, once the pull of you as his mate is gone. But you’ll be the one to decide that.”
Emery’s world seemed to tilt, her heart plummeting into the depths of her stomach. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe through the panic rising in her chest. “But… won’t he still love me?” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Kaeya’s hand tightened around hers. “That won’t survive, Emery,” she said quietly. “Not if you choose to shatter that bond. You’ll never know the same love again. Not with him. Not after this.”
Emery bit her lip, the tears welling in her eyes, hot and unstoppable. She could imagine it—the look on Callan’s face, the hurt and betrayal. How could she live with herself after that? How could she break his heart like that?
“Is that a decision?” Kaeya asked softly, her voice distant.
Emery nodded, the tears spilling down her face. “I’ll never stop loving him.”
“I know,” Kaeya said softly. “I know.”
They sat in the silence for a moment, and then Kaeya shifted, her voice practical again. “We made an amulet for you. You won’t need to cast a circle. Just hold the amulet, focus on your intention, and press it to his skin. That’s all it takes.”
Emery’s hands shook as she let go of Kaeya’s, pulling away. “Thank you,” she whispered, though it felt hollow.
Kaeya looked at the butcher’s shop, clearly uncomfortable with the weight of their conversation. “Let’s go get your meat,” she said, pushing open the car door. “The amulet’s inside.”
Emery laughed, though it was a bitter, surprised bark. “What, with the chops and sausage?”
Kaeya smiled slightly. “Wyatt works here,” she said, glancing sideways at Emery. “I gave it to him for safekeeping.”
Emery tried to return the smile, though she knew it was probably a poor attempt. “It’ll be nice to finally meet him,” she murmured, though she couldn’t help but feel the ache of loss already consuming her.
The rain still came down in relentless sheets, but Emery had long since learned that in the Scottish Highlands, there wasn’t much use in waiting for it to lighten up. The weather could go on for hours, or even days, and it was better to just get on with things. She took a deep breath, pulling her coat tighter around her, and stepped out into the downpour. The cold raindrops pelted her face, sharp and biting, but she didn’t flinch. She had no time to waste. She needed to get inside, to escape the constant pressure in her chest that was tightening with every passing second.
She hurried to the butcher’s shop, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the rain and the soft squish of her boots through the puddles. Kaeya was right behind her, a steady presence in the storm, moving with practiced ease. The door swung open as Emery reached for it, and they stepped into the cool interior of the shop. The air was brisk, carrying with it the faint but unmistakable smell of blood, mingling with the earthy scent of wet wool and the sharp tang of animal fat.
The shop was much smaller than she had expected. The floor was polished wood, scuffed from years of use, and the walls were lined with shelves of cured meats, sausages, and hanging cuts of beef. A glass display case showcased neatly arranged portions of lamb, pork, and beef, some wrapped in paper, others still bearing their raw, fresh cuts. It was an odd juxtaposition of life and death, of the past and present, and for a moment, Emery had to look away.
Before she could lose herself in her thoughts, a man appeared from the back, his cheerful voice cutting through the somber atmosphere. He was tall, with short-cropped brown hair and a wide, friendly smile that somehow made the whole shop feel warmer despite the chill in the air. His apron was white, the ties wrapped around his waist a little haphazardly, as though he didn’t mind the small imperfections in his appearance. He was dressed casually, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, revealing muscular forearms.
“Morning, love,” he greeted Kaeya, his voice thick with an English accent that made Emery pause for a moment. “This must be the new coven member. Emery from London, yeah?”
Emery blinked, surprised by his familiarity. “Yes,” she said, extending her hand. “Emery Loving.”
The man grinned wider, his handshake firm and warm. “Ernest Wyatt. Call me Wyatt.” His grip lingered just long enough to make her feel like he was making an effort to connect. When she let go, Wyatt turned toward Kaeya, planting a kiss on her cheek and—Emery swore—giving her a quick pinch on the bottom, which caused Kaeya to jump and flush crimson.
Emery’s lips quirked involuntarily. They were cute together, undeniably so, and the brief moment of levity eased some of the tension in her chest.
Wyatt seemed completely at ease, and as he moved behind the counter, he began talking again. “So, what can I get you today? I’ve got some good cuts of beef and lamb today, and the sausages are fresh out of the smoker.” He cast a sideways glance at Kaeya. “That’s all thanks to the local pig farmer. He’s got a great stock of pigs. Best pork around.”
Emery dug her rationing book out of her pocket, thumbing through it until she found the page that had been stamped the last time she’d been here. The burly Scotsman with thinning hair must’ve been Wyatt’s colleague, the one who’d given her the stamp before. She handed the book to Wyatt with a small nod. “How’s the sausage?”
Kaeya groaned beside her. “No jokes, please,” she warned, her voice a low, amused tone. “Emery’s having a rough day. Besides her order, we need the box I gave you.”
Wyatt’s expression shifted to something more serious, his brows furrowing in thought. “Right,” he said, his voice softening. “Let me get it for you, then. You ladies make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be right back.” Without another word, he disappeared into the back room, leaving Kaeya and Emery alone in the small shop.
Emery’s gaze drifted back to the display case. The cuts of meat looked almost pristine, but the sight of them only made her stomach twist. She hadn’t been able to shake the heaviness in her chest, not since their conversation in the car. It was hard to focus on anything other than the weight of the decision she had to make. The box in her pocket felt heavier with every passing second.
Kaeya seemed to sense her unease, her voice lowering as she approached. “Wyatt will give you extra for Callan,” she said quietly, her gaze flicking to the display case and then back to Emery. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
Emery didn’t respond immediately, though she felt her heart rate quicken. Kaeya didn’t mean just the food; she knew what Emery was really worrying about. The pain, the choice she was being asked to make.
“That’s good,” Emery said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just…” She swallowed hard, the words feeling stuck in her throat. She couldn’t explain how deeply this hurt, how it felt like her heart was being torn in two.
“We’ll be here for you,” Kaeya continued, her voice a comforting murmur. “If you decide to do this, Emery, we’re your sisters now. We’ll stand by you. We’ll be there for you, no matter what happens.”
The warmth in Kaeya’s tone brought a lump to Emery’s throat. She wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe she could still have some semblance of peace, some sense of normalcy. But the decision she was about to make would change everything. She would change everything.
“Thank you,” Emery managed, her voice tight, her hands shaking slightly as she fiddled with the corners of her coat.
Wyatt returned just then, holding a small wooden box in his hands. He placed it carefully on the counter in front of Emery. It was unremarkable, plain, almost too simple for the weight it carried. She couldn’t feel any magic emanating from it, but she knew that the amulet inside would hold the power to destroy everything she had with Callan, to sever their bond in one devastating moment.
“It’s in there?” Emery asked, her voice small, barely audible.
Wyatt nodded. “Yeah. It won’t activate until you tell it to. Kaeya’s got a paper with the words on it.” He turned back to Kaeya, his face serious now. “You’re sure she’s ready?”
Kaeya nodded. “She’ll be ready when the time comes. But she needs to choose.”
Emery’s stomach churned. The air in the shop suddenly felt thick, suffocating. Her hands trembled as she reached out and took the box from the counter, tucking it into her coat pocket without a word. It felt too final. She loved Callan with all her heart, but if she didn’t do this, James would never stop, and Callan would be in even more danger.
She closed her eyes, forcing the thought out of her mind for just a moment. “I’d like two steaks, please, and three sausages,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.
Wyatt nodded and began to gather the cuts she’d requested. He was polite and efficient, but there was something in his eyes—something kind and understanding—that made Emery feel like she wasn’t alone in this moment. Not completely, at least.
“Wyatt,” she said, almost without thinking, “thank you. For everything.”
He paused, looking at her for a moment. Then, with a small smile, he said, “No need for thanks. We’ve got your back, Emery. We all do.”
The words settled over her, a small comfort in the middle of the storm. But it wasn’t enough to quiet the thunder in her chest.
◆◆◆
Emery stood at the stove, the sausages sizzling in a pan, their edges crisping as the fat splattered onto the hot metal. The rhythmic hiss of the grease was oddly comforting, a small reprieve from the storm of thoughts constantly swirling in her mind. The scent of the chicken and rice Elena had made for lunch still lingered in the air, faintly sweet and savory, a memory of a meal shared just hours ago. Callan had raved about it, of course, his voice filled with genuine affection, his praise as warm and full as ever. But now, hours later, his stomach was rumbling, and the sound of it only reminded her of how little hunger she felt these days.
She didn’t know if she’d ever be hungry again. Not when the box that would end her happiness sat in a dresser drawer, tucked away under an old pair of knickers. The thought of it sent a chill through her, more so than the cold draft from the open window. That box, small and unassuming, carried a weight she could barely comprehend. A weight that would crush her, yes, but also protect Callan. Because that was the cruel irony—if she didn’t do it, he’d die. She had no choice.
She could tell Callan what she was thinking. She probably should, but she knew how easily he’d talk her out of it. He always tried to ease her burdens, always insisted that she didn’t have to carry everything alone. But this was something she had to do. If she didn’t, if she didn’t sever the connection between them, then he’d die. And it would be her fault.
The very idea of losing him, of not having him beside her anymore, gnawed at her insides. She wanted to believe there was a way out of this—wanted him to tell her everything would be okay, that there was another solution—but she knew deep down that there wasn’t. This wasn’t going to end without a death, and if Callan was no longer her mate, no longer in love with her, then he’d be safe. Safe from the danger that still hovered over them like a dark cloud.
In time, the hurt would fade. The ache of losing him, of severing the bond that had brought them together, would dull. And Callan would go on, just like he had before they met. He would move forward, and eventually, he’d find someone else. He deserved that, she told herself. He deserved to live a life free of fear, free of the shadow that James cast over them.
The sausages sizzled louder in the pan, almost as if they were mocking her, reminding her of the mundane, of the life she was about to lose. She had made toast, and there were berry smoothies from the blender, a simple meal. It was fine when it was just the two of them, when they could share these small moments of normalcy. But there would be no more of that. No more laughter in the kitchen, no more quiet dinners spent in each other’s company. Not unless she had already conceived. But even then, she knew her time with Callan would be short-lived. It’d be better if she didn’t know, better if she didn’t carry that weight of hope with her when the inevitable was fast approaching.
She stopped short, the thought catching in her throat. There would be no children now. Not unless she was already carrying a babe, and that possibility was so small it felt foolish to even consider it. But even if she were pregnant, she doubted her life would extend far enough to see the child grow. The future she had dreamed of—children, a home filled with love and laughter—was slipping through her fingers. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from wishing, if only for a moment, that things could be different.
The tears burned behind her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she forced them back, blinking rapidly. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, only to yelp as a pair of strong arms suddenly looped around her from behind. The warmth of Callan’s embrace wrapped around her like a shield, and for the briefest second, she could almost forget everything that was about to happen.
“Is everything alright, little spoon?” Callan’s voice was soft and soothing, the familiar rumble of his chest vibrating against her back. He nuzzled into the sensitive spot behind her ear, a gesture so intimate it made her pulse quicken. “Did something happen in town that you’ve not told me?”
Yes. Everything was wrong. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Not yet. She didn’t have the words, and even if she did, she knew it wouldn’t change anything.
“No,” she managed to choke out, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. “But I’m maudlin over…” She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. There was no reason to explain it. It wouldn’t make any sense.
“I hope it’s not the sausages,” Callan teased lightly, his breath warm against her skin. “They smell delicious. Though I think I still like your scent more.”
The tender words broke through her fragile resolve, and before she could stop herself, she burst into sobs. The tears came, hot and heavy, streaming down her face as she turned in his arms and hugged him tightly. She pressed her face against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek. It was the first time in days that she felt safe, like she could let go, even if only for a moment.
