“So she cursed all of us? Because one man was cruel to her?”
“She cursed the women, specifically. The mothers, the daughters, the sisters.” Evangeline pulls out another document. “She wanted them to feel what she felt. The inability to connect, to trust, to love freely. She wove magic that would make Llewelyn women emotionally distant, unable to form the deep bonds that give packs their strength. Now, because of that frigidness, there are almost no male Llewelyn left.”
I step closer to read the details. The spell work is complex, layered with redundancies and failsafes that would make it nearly impossible to break through conventional means.
“Self-perpetuating.” I trace a finger along one passage. “It passes from mother to daughter, growing stronger with each generation.”
“Exactly.” Evangeline nods. “By the time we discovered what Moira had done and expelled her, the curse had already taken root. Three generations of Llewelyn women lived under its influence, and the magic had woven itself so deeply into the pack’s bloodline that removing it would have killed anyone we tried to free.”
“So you left it,” Sera supplies. “You knew my pack was suffering under a curse, and you just left it there.”
“We had no choice. The magic was too entrenched. Breaking it would have required power we didn’t possess and cooperation from Llewelyn leadership that wasn’t forthcoming. Your ancestors chose to believe the emotional distance was a cultural adaptation rather than magical imprisonment. They refused our help.”
“Because the curse made them refuse,” I interject. “Part of its design. The binding suppresses the ability to recognize it for what it is.”
“Precisely.” Evangeline pulls out a third document, this one newer than the others. “Which is why your emergence is so significant, Sera Thornwick.”
“My emergence?” Sera looks up from the documents. “What does that mean?”
“You developed psychic abilities despite the curse’s suppression of such gifts.” Evangeline moves around the table to stand in front of Sera again. “Visions. True sight. The ability to see through magical bindings and recognize them for what they are. That shouldn’t be possible for a Llewelyn woman under the curse’s influence.”
“But it is possible,” I comment as I connect the pieces. “Because of the mate bond. The connection to me is giving her access to abilities the curse normally suppresses.”
“The mate bond acts as a conduit,” Evangeline confirms. “It provides power and connection strong enough to create cracks in the binding. Those cracks allowed Sera’s natural psychic abilities to emerge, which in turn let her see the curse for what it is.”
Sera stares at the witch like she’s grown a second head. “You’re saying I can see the curse because of him? Because we’re mates?”
“The mate bond triggered something that was always inside you,” Evangeline corrects. “The abilities are yours. The bond simply gave them room to grow.”
“And breaking the curse?” I ask the question Sera can’t seem to voice. “Is it possible now?”
“With her help, yes.” Evangeline gestures to Sera. “Breaking a curse of this magnitude requires enormous magical power and the willing participation of someone from within the affected bloodline. Someone who has broken free enough to see what needs to be done. Someone whose psychic abilities can guide the process and ensure the binding releases cleanly rather than catastrophically.”
“You want me to break it.” Sera’s voice comes out barely above a whisper. “A curse that’s been in place for three centuries. That affects every woman in my pack.”
“You’re likely the only one who can.” Evangeline returns to the documents. “The curse was designed to prevent exactly this scenario. To suppress any abilities that might allow someone to recognize and challenge it. The fact that you’ve developed visions despite those safeguards means you’re strong enough to survive what comes next.”
“What comes next? What happens if I try to break it?”
“Pain,” Evangeline states without a trace of regret. “The curse will fight back. Will try to squeeze harder, suppress deeper, eliminate the threat you represent. Breaking free will require you to push through that resistance while we work the counter-spell from outside. It won’t be easy. It won’t be pleasant. And there’s no guarantee you’ll survive it intact.”
I watch Sera process this, see her working through implications and possibilities with that analytical mind that makes her such a good archivist. Everything she thought was cultural identity might actually be magical imprisonment. Her pack’s emotional distance isn’t a strength, but a wound that’s been festering for three hundred years.
“How long do I have?” she finally asks. “To decide whether to try breaking it?”
Evangeline begins gathering the documents. “As long as you need. Though I should warn you—Thornridge’s interest in your pack means they may have discovered the curse’s existence. If they’ve found a way to exploit or manipulate it, waiting too long could put every Llewelyn woman at risk.”
“Of course.” Sera forces out a laugh. “Because nothing about this situation can be straightforward.”
“Curses rarely are.” Evangeline hands her a leather folder containing copies of the key documents. “Take these. Study them. Discuss with your pack leadership and the other psychics who’ve sensed the binding. When you’re ready to proceed, the Hysopp Coven will support you however we can.”
Sera takes the folder with hands that tremble despite her attempts to stay composed. “Thank you. For your honesty, if nothing else.”
“I’m sorry for what was done to your people. We should have done more to stop Moira. Should have found a way to help even when Llewelyn refused. That failure has haunted this coven for three centuries.”
We leave the archive room and walk back through the clearing toward my truck. The haze has grown denser while we were inside, making everything beyond ten feet completelyinvisible. My wolf remains on high alert, aware that we’re still deep in territory that doesn’t welcome our kind.
Sera doesn’t speak until we’re back in the truck with the engine running. Even then, she just stares at the leather folder in her lap like it might bite her.
