“It is against our rule to bring another back from the dead.” Gerald spoke softly. “Should we wish to revive him, we are not permitted.”
Marlene turned her wrath on him. “I made no such oath.” She got to her feet. “Now pick him up and take him to the herbal room. I know what to do.”
For a heart-stopping moment, she didn’t think they would obey her command, but reluctantly, they picked up their High Priest and moved toward the manor.
Marlene rushed ahead to the herbal room. Without conscious thought, she waved her hand and gathered things from the shelves. She was already grinding together the ingredients she needed when Alaric’s prone form was brought inside. Without a word, they laid him down on the counter. One by one, they slowly left the room.
Lady Catharine was the last one to go, her lingering glance one of pity and sorrow. “We cannot remain while you perform the ritual.”
Marlene didn’t pause in her task. “There is no need. He will be well soon enough and then you can thank me for saving him.”
The woman nodded her head, but Marlene could tell that she believed there was little hope of success.
Marlene, however, did.
After she had gathered the herbs and mixed them with water for a drink, she closed her eyes and pictured the Book in her mind. Turning to the page she was searching for, she spoke the incantation as she held the cup to Alaric’s motionless lips. “Love forevermore, love forever mine. Let not his spirit be lost unto me, but to be granted more time.”
Never in her life had she ever been glad to be a witch, the hope that she might succeed in bringing Alaric back to her.
Never had she ever prayed so hard for a miracle.
She grasped Alaric’s hand and held on tightly. “Please, save him. He is all I have. He is all I ever wanted. I love him, body and soul. This cannot be the end of our story when it was just beginning. I will not allow it to be so.”
Continuing to repeat the chant over and over, Marlene focused all of her energy on Alaric and the healing power of magic to bring his body back to life.
The first thing Alaric noticed was the silence. It was all around him. He no longer heard the sounds of the merriment coming from the ballroom. There were no tinkling glasses or the distant hum of conversation and laughter. It was utter silence.
Nor did he hear his beloved’s voice. That was what worried him the most, because he feared that the long-held prediction he’d harbored regarding his fate had come to fruition. He had been prepared for the finality of his life on earth, and suspected that his aunt had always known there was the possibility that Hector would see him fall. He knew that the coven would accept the power of the stars as they had aligned, but he had not had the chance to warn Marlene of what was to come. No doubt she would have refused to accept it. Although he didn’t want to do the same now that love had filled his heart, he knew that there was no turning back. It was against the rules of wicca to bring someone back from the beyond.
Whether he liked it or not, this was his end.
He opened his eyes, not sure of what he might expect. However, it wasn’t the burst of pain that caused him to moan and grimace. He had grown up under the impression that there would be no hurt or sickness in heaven. But perhaps he had succumbed to hell after all.
“Oh, my love. Thank God. It worked.”
He stilled, hearing the voice of his love again. His focus was blurred, but as he began to focus, he saw Marlene’s tear-stained face above him. “Am I dreaming?” he croaked.
“No.” She shook her head, her face wreathed in that beautiful smile that had captured his heart, nearly from the first moment. “I saved you from death. I made a potion and spoke the words from the Book—”
He frowned. “You should not have done that. It was my time.”
Her lovely brow furrowed in turn. “No, it’s not. You’re here, and that’s how it shall remain.” She grasped his shoulders, her voice firm and unyielding. “I did not nearly die when I was a child, suffer through the demise of my parents, and the loss of my ancestral home, just to lose you too. My heart would not allow it. If you don’t know by now, I love you.” A drop of moisture fell onto his check as she bent down and pressed her lips against his.
He closed his eyes and held her close to him. His hands flexed, but not from anger or frustration. It was a relief that he had been spared a dark future without Marlene in it. He didn’t care if he had to face the demons of hell to be granted this time with her, he would sacrifice all that he had to live—and to love.
When she pulled away slightly, he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. Wiping away the tear stains on her face, he whispered, “Marry me.”
She laughed. “I would be honored, Sir Gothry. Nothing on this earth would make me happier.”
“My bride. My High Priestess.” He paused and offered a smile. “My love. Forever.”
Chapter 25
The next day, after the revelry had ended and the oblivious guests had departed later that afternoon, Marlene stood in front of the portrait of Roxanne and saw that the smug smile she had always imagined she wore, was now one of acceptance, and perhaps even a bit of harmony.
“She approves of you.”
Marlene’s eyes closed as Alaric spoke in her ear, just as his arms encircled her waist and brought her back against him. She was relieved that he was doing so remarkably well after being impaled with Hector’s dagger, but the healing tincture she had made for him had worked with the power of wicca magic. He might bear a scar for his efforts, but otherwise, he would be free of any physical damage he might have sustained. She worried that it would take longer for both of them to forget what Hector had put them through, but in time, their love would block out the demons that wished to haunt them.
