Szereto, Mellanie - Two Pirates to Treasure [Bewitching Desires 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (13 page)

“‘What if’ has no place in our minds, daughter. We have the present and the future to mold. The past is done.” Romána had somehow managed to enter the room unseen and unheard, but Orsolya knew better than to question the wise elder about her ability to appear where she was needed when she needed.

“My present and future have been altered by the past. I gave my heart, and they betrayed me. They betrayed all of us. Please convey my regrets to everyone for endangering them. I need to be alone for a while.”

“The ceremony must proceed as planned, child. If you wish to refuse your young men, you will do it then, in the presence of Ethan and Grant and the family.”

Dear Goddess, she couldn’t face them. “They lied to me, Great Grandmother. In the woods, they discovered a way to make a hole in the protection charm around the estate. I heard them say they were going to help Kazmer enter our safe haven. He was waiting on the other side of the fence.”

“Did your new powers not defeat him, daughter? You are a Chosen One.”

Orsolya spun toward Romána. “How do you know what happened? I told no one before you. A Chosen One? I don’t understand.”

The old woman’s eyes softened. “You will in time, daughter. Nothing happens in our realm of which I am unaware, and the Fates only permit that which is meant to be. Rest until the ceremony. You must allow your body and mind to renew. Witchcraft and childbearing require much strength.”

Exhaustion swept over Orsolya as suddenly as her guest had appeared. Her rubbery legs barely carried her to the bed. Lying on the soft layers of blankets, she closed her eyes and exhaled. Sleep gently lifted her into its cradling arms.

* * * *

“Hurry, Orsolya!”

Taking a calming breath as she neared the top of the steps, Orsolya swallowed the less-than-pleasant response tickling her throat. Jolán was hardly to blame for the horrible evening ahead. “Would you mind if we stop in the kitchen first? I’m starving.”

Her friend looked up from the landing below and rolled her eyes. “No more stalling. The ceremony starts in two minutes. You can’t be late.”

Too bad I can’t choose to ignore it, either.
Orsolya descended the stairs at a sedate pace, not letting Jolán badger her into rushing. At the first floor, she paused for a moment and then followed the hall to the main parlor. Even before she reached the large gathering room, the murmur of voices carried to her ears. All of the Macska mansion residents, including those belonging to the Order of the Elements, had been summoned to the event. Did everyone know that the joining wouldn’t be taking place after all?

She stopped at the wide entrance, scanning the faces as her stomach knotted tighter. She smoothed her palms down her skirt and hoped for the strength to survive this experience. Ethan and Grant weren’t visible from where she stood. Had they left? She’d told them to go, but Great Grandmother had implied a refusal could only be done face to face at the ceremony. If they didn’t make an appearance, was she off the hook?

“Orsolya Horvát, daughter of the Elements and Chosen One of the Fates, your family welcomes you.” Romána’s voice rose above the quiet hum. “Come stand among us, Gifted One, so we may embrace your presence.”

Inching forward, Orsolya met the eyes of those closest to the matriarch. Sandor’s usually telling expression of his mood wasn’t there. Konrad and Rebeka nodded at her. Boldizsár, the youngest of the Elders in the Order, gave a slight smile. On the other side of Great Grandmother, the oldest of the aunts waited—Romána’s daughters by birth. Szabina and Agnes each held out a hand to pat her shoulder as Orsolya passed them. Only Magdolna seemed distracted, her mouth forming a flat line and her hands white as she clutched them in front of her while she looked at the floor.

“I have related to the others your confrontation with the ancient shifter.” The matriarch offered her a polished dark gray stone. “Hematite. For protection and healing.”

The weighty oval was cool in Orsolya’s hand. She closed her fingers over it in the hope it would go to work on her broken heart. Did the heavy talisman have the power to make the pain of betrayal and love lost fade?

“You have proven yourself worthy of the title ‘witch,’ my daughter. Your abilities kept those under my care safe today. I thank you.” The old woman leaned in, kissing Orsolya on the cheek. “Part of healing is forgiveness, as it is also part of love.”

Unsure how to respond, Orsolya nodded once. If Great Grandmother referred to Grant and Ethan, forgiveness would be a slow process—especially with the prospect of nine months of carrying their children in her body and years after that of raising her son and daughter. “Someday I will try to forgive, but today I refuse the men I had chosen for the joining.”

Romána shook her head. “No one may be refused without the opportunity to question the motive. You must wait until your mates arrive to make your declaration of intent, so that they may defend themselves if they wish.”

Magdolna turned to her mother, her face suddenly ruddy instead of pale. “They are not here. Why must she suffer the indignity of being abandoned? The choice is hers to make, just as it should’ve been mine. Hours of anguish and humiliation won’t change anything.”

“Now is not the time to—”

“In forty-nine years, the time has never come! He stands in our company at this very moment, and
still
I cannot have my say. Forgiveness won’t alter the past. He made a promise to me. That promise was broken, and I wish to refuse him, the way I should’ve been allowed to refuse him when he left me without a word on the day of our mating.” Tears trickled down Magdolna’s face. Her harsh breathing made the only sound in the hushed room.

The pain in the older woman’s eyes confirmed to Orsolya that healing wasn’t always a possibility. Magdolna’s heartbreak was as fresh as her own. Decades had done little to ease the betrayal.
The betrayal.
What man in the parlor had forsaken Romána’s middle daughter? The only unmated males were the Elders from the Order and Kata’s infant son.

Orsolya followed Magdolna’s gaze to Boldizsár. He seemed as unaware of the man’s identity as everyone else.

Stepping closer to the Elder next to Sandor, the older woman straightened her spine. “You don’t even remember me, do you? When you didn’t pledge yourself to me on the designated day of our joining, your memory was altered. You forgot me, the time we shared, the child we made. Your life went on as if you’d never met me. Mine did not, and now I
damn
you. I
refuse
you! I deny you any part of my heart!”

Understanding dawned as Magdolna wove her way through the cousins and their families to the French doors leading outside. Bitterness rolled off her in almost visible waves. She hadn’t been able to forgive the man who’d hurt her all those years ago. The cloak of sadness that lingered over her had come from a shattered heart.

Is that the future Ethan and Grant have condemned me to?

“Maggi?” Boldizsár’s tentative whisper brought Magdolna to a stop with the door partway open. “I tried to come to you, Maggi. I know I did.”

“The failed prophesy.” The words escaped Orsolya’s lips as she recalled the stories Sandor had told her about the coming alliance between the Order and the Macska witches. Now she knew the reason for the first failure. “Kazmer had a hand in preventing the joining and the union of our clans.”

“He almost succeeded again with Rebeka, Sandor, and Konrad.” Great Grandmother reached out her hand toward her daughter. “Do not allow our enemy this small victory, Magdolna. You have been offered another chance with your true mate. Take it, my favored child, and live the rest of your days in happiness instead of sorrow.”

“Please forgive me, Maggi. I didn’t intend the great suffering I’ve caused.” The Elder traced his mate’s steps to stand beside her. “Our time has come.”

Tears stung Orsolya’s eyes when Boldizsár guided Magdolna out the door and closed it behind them. After seven full cycles of seven years, they would finally be mated for life. While her heart rejoiced for the couple, reality tightened its grip on her heart. “This joining ceremony was meant for them, Great Grandmother. I stand by my decision to refuse Grant Templeton and Ethan Whitmere.”

Before the matriarch could deny or approve her request, Orsolya hurried past the family still staring after the life-mates reunited. Taking the stairs two at a time, she made her way to the third-floor suite—the only sanctuary she had. She ducked inside, locking the door and leaning against the panel. Her shaky muscles couldn’t hold her upright. As she slid to the floor, she closed her eyes. It didn’t stem the flow of tears. She hadn’t wanted to face her men, but they hadn’t even had the decency to give her the option of changing her mind.
Not mine. Never mine. Only their son and daughter will be with me.

Disappointment warred with hurt and confusion. She’d meant nothing to them, and she hadn’t even gotten the chance to lie about their worth to her.

“So many tears. You’re
very
angry at us, Orshy.” She jerked her head toward Ethan’s voice. He sat next to Grant on the bed, their legs stretched out along the length of the mattress. “Will you allow us to explain our actions before passing judgment?”

Self-preservation pushed her to answer with a resounding “no.” Hope insisted she let them speak. Did she have anything left to lose by listening to their reasons for lying to her? She looked away, her eyes landing on the clock above the chair in the sitting area.
Don’t make me regret this.
“You have five minutes.”

Chapter 12

Grant released the breath he’d been holding, thankful that Orshy was giving them the opportunity to share their story. “Ethan and I are Protectors. We spent nearly a century searching for the Gifted One we were meant to watch over and the evil Black Triad elder from whom we were to guard our charge.”

“Kazmer?” The color faded from her face.

Ethan nodded. “At the proper time, we were to aid the shifter in gaining access to the Gifted One’s home in order for her to come into her full powers. If we survived allowing him entrance through a controlled rift, our protected witch would use her developing skills to vanquish him for a period until she gathered those around her to expel him from the universe. The success of our task depended on secrecy. Had we told anyone of our duty, we would’ve been sent back to our births to begin anew. We didn’t wish to risk your life or the chance that our paths wouldn’t cross again.”

Fighting the urge to jump from the bed and gather her in his arms, Grant offered a last bit of honesty to plead their case. “Our orders are to remain here with you, to continue protecting you. We’ve spoken to the matriarch of the Macska clan about our undertaking. She believes Kazmer will return for vengeance against you and has asked that we stay.”

She drew her knees close to her chest and studied him as if she could see through him to the truth. “You were a hundred years old when I spelled myself to the ship? Why did you stop aging? Can you get sent back?”

Beside him, Ethan wiggled his foot back and forth in an obvious nervous gesture. “We cannot go back without negating all that has happened. Our bodies and minds were in a balanced prime to ensure the greatest odds of achieving our goal. Many of our kind do not. We will begin to age normally now that our task is completed.”

“Who gave you the order to stay with me?”

As grateful as he was that she seemed to be accepting their explanation, Grant had no desire to discuss the issue any further. He only wanted to hold her. “Messengers inform us of our assignments. We didn’t wish to leave you, Orshy. I knew from the moment I saw you that we would be mated, and that is still my greatest hope.”

“And mine.” Ethan climbed from the bed, rounding the footboard to stand a few feet from her. “We love you, sweet Orshy. Will you join with us in the ceremony that binds us to each other forever?”

Wiping the wetness from her cheek, she pulled in a shuddering breath. “No more secrets. You have to promise me.”

Bounding off the mattress, Grant helped her to her feet and brushed away the dampness from her jaw with his thumb. “It’s a promise, my love. Will you forgive us so may we become mated in the tradition of witches?”