Chapter Four
Ursula’s living roomsmelled like tea and sugar biscuits, a far cry from the fire and smoke that still haunted Nolan’s senses.He sat forward on the couch, leg bouncing, humming with tension and energy he couldn’t bleed off.Across from him, Isaac and Saffron sat so close they were practically fused, her lips still swollen from the kiss that had made Nolan’s wolf snarl with hunger.
He’d watched his brother devour their mate like a starving man, and when Isaac had finally allowed her up for air, he’d turned her toward him.Nolan hadn’t hesitated.He’d pounced, capturing her mouth with his own, once more.Gods, the way it had felt—the heat of her lips, the taste of her, the way every nerve ending lit like a fuse—it had been like drowning and breathing all at once.His wolf howled, claws scraping at his skin, claiming what had always been his.And when Isaac pressed against her back, Saffie had whimpered, her body arching between them.For a second, Nolan thought they’d take her right there against the damn wall.
But Ursula had cleared her throat and muttered something sarcastic about not on my hardwood floors, boys, and they’d pulled back like guilty teenagers.Now they were sipping tea and eating biscuits like civilized people, which only made the ache inside Nolan worse.He wanted her.He wanted her now.
Still, he drank his tea, jaw tight, because his brothers—his gods-be-damned brothers—were here.Alive.Whole.And telling him how they’d killed Matthew—Marcus, as he’d been known in this life.
“We cut the bastard down,” Liam said, voice steady but his eyes haunted.Then he shook his head and gave a rough laugh.“No, that’s a lie.Wedidn’t end him—the girls did.Willow, Saffie, Ursula—they were the ones who tore him apart.Willow’s tattoo lit up like the Goddess herself had branded her, and Libby’s power flared through it.Ursula came limping in like hell on two legs, and Saffie was throwing green fire like it was born in her veins.They burned him down, broke his curse, and freed us.We only struck when he was already finished.Truth is, the women ended Marcus.We just cleaned up the ashes.”
Jacob nodded, sipping his tea like they weren’t talking about magic and murder.“And good riddance.He thought he could outlast us, thought he could cheat the curse.But the girls tore him open and freed us.That tattoo on Willow’s stomach?Pure Goddess fire.Kick-ass doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Willow leaned forward, eyes wide.“But I want to know something.How come you remember your past lives, and I don’t?I mean, I know that Liam and Jacob are mine, and I know that I am a witch, and I saw Libby in my visions, but it was like I was seeing it on a movie screen, not that I was that person.I know how Libby lived her life, I feel it in my bones, but I don’t remember who I was.”
Ursula started to explain, her hands gesturing as she launched into a tangle of talk about reincarnation cycles and magical anchors.“Your soul follows threads,” she said quickly, “sometimes bound, sometimes loose, sometimes pulled back by a mark or a vow, and when curses are involved, the anchors dig deep—too deep.It’s like being sewn into a tapestry while others get to float free.”She trailed off, frowning at her own words.“Okay, that made more sense in my head,” she muttered.
Saffron sighed and cut in, her tone dry.“Because you weren’t bound to the curse like we were.You were free of it until you were reborn.That’s why your soul didn’t carry the same memories forward.”
Willow blinked, then nodded slowly.“That ...actually makes sense.”
“Of course it does,” Saffron muttered, sipping her tea.
Nolan set his cup down and asked his brothers the question clawing at him.“Where were you?After—after everything?Where the hell did you go?”
The silence stretched.Then Liam’s voice broke it, raw.“In the Void.Or at least that is what we called it.We were trapped.Hearing the Goddess, feeling her tug, but never reaching her.Years blurred.Became decades that morphed into centuries.We thought it would never end.”
Jacob’s mouth tightened.“We heard each other.But it wasn’t living.It was ...existing.”
Nolan’s stomach turned.He kicked himself when Willow’s eyes filled with tears.He hated himself more when she swiped them away, trying to be strong.
Desperate to change the subject, he turned to Ursula.“And you?How the hell are you still here, looking the same as you did two hundred years ago?”He looked over at Willow.“How does it feel to be reunited with your sister?”
The room stilled.Willow’s head snapped around.“What?”
Ursula froze, color draining from her face.Then tears spilled, sudden and unchecked.“I wasn’t supposed to tell you.Not yet.”She glanced over at his mate before looking back at Willow.“Saffie and I weren’t allowed to talk about it.But someone else did, not connected to our four, so I don’t have to keep it secret anymore.”She reached for Willow, voice breaking.“I’m your sister.Your blood in truth.I couldn’t say more, not without risking the future the Goddess promised me.But I see you, Elizabet.I see you, baby girl.”
Willow gasped, hand flying to her mouth.Then she folded into Ursula’s arms, both women sobbing, the sound breaking through every wall Nolan had.Even Saffron’s eyes glistened, though she masked it with a long sip of tea.
They settled eventually, sniffling and wiping eyes.Conversation turned soft, low, filled with half-formed questions and tentative laughter.But Nolan barely heard it.His body was strung tight, every muscle coiled.He wanted to kill something.Or fuck something.Preferably the latter.He wanted his mate, their mate, alone.How in hell was he going to make that happen?
He didn’t have to.Saffron rose suddenly, her black dress clinging to every curve, her chin high.“Enough tea.My mates and I need to remind ourselves what we are to each other.”She didn’t ask permission.She simply walked toward the hall, her heels striking the floor like a drumbeat of destiny.“Come, my mates.”
