Chapter Thirteen: Carys

Carys wasn't sure what she'd expected when she walked into The Lonely Tavern, filled with anticipation.

But she had expected something .

Something other than Brushworth gliding across the empty room, sweeping up any speck of dirt that dared land on the tavern's worn wooden floor.

Something other than Morwenna humming to herself as she orchestrated a rearrangement of the various bottles of liquor that lined the shelves behind the bar. Some that looked as though they had not been touched for decades…centuries even.

"Are you sure we shouldn't have gone straight to Liselle's rather than coming here?" Carys whispered to Marilla as the tavern door shut behind them, muting the sounds from the streets outside.

Marilla shook her head. "This is where we need to be. Trust me." She strode confidently up to the bar, leaving Carys little choice but to follow along with Elsbeth.

As they approached, Morwenna turned, her silver charms tinkling softly. Her gray hair seemed even frizzier than usual, as if charged with static electricity. "Ah, here she is. The Lonely Tavern's latest success story," she said, eyeing Carys. But then her brow creased, and she leaned forward as if examining a specimen in a bottle.

Carys felt her cheeks flush. "Latest success story?"

Morwenna snorted. "Don't tell me that dragon shifter failed to impress."

"Carys is having some difficulty…remembering," Elsbeth told Morwenna and Carys had that feeling that everyone was in on a secret but her.

"Will someone kindly tell me exactly what it is that I am having difficulty remembering?" Carys asked tartly. "What is this about a dragon shifter?"

Morwenna's eyes narrowed as she studied Carys intently. "You really don't remember, do you?" She shook her head, the charms on her dress clinking softly. "Well, this is new."

"Okay, now you are freaking me out." Carys put her hand to her head, as panic bloomed in her heart. She was used to being able to recall even the slightest details, from meetings to events and everything in between. Yet she was getting the sneaking suspicion she had forgotten something big.

Morwenna pulled out four mismatched mugs from beneath the bar and set them down without taking her eyes off Carys. "Freaking you out is not the goal. But this is all very curious." Her gaze flickered to Elsbeth and Marilla, exchanging a look that Carys couldn't quite decipher. "But if you can't remember...perhaps it's better to leave it that way, for now."

Carys frowned, feeling the weight of her frustration pressing down. "Better for whom?"

Morwenna ignored her question, filling each mug with a deep amber liquid. The room smelled faintly of spice and something earthy, like damp leaves after a storm. Morwenna slid the mugs across the counter with practiced ease, as if she'd done this a thousand times before—which she likely had.

"Drink," Morwenna commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Will it help me remember?" Carys asked, staring into the swirling liquid before her.

"No, but it tastes good." Morwenna raised her mug to her lips and took a sip. "Think of it as a commiseration prize."

She glanced sideways at Elsbeth, who was already lifting her mug to her lips, and then at Marilla, who sipped slowly, eyes closed as if savoring the taste. Was no one taking this seriously?

"Will someone please," Carys began, her voice quieter this time, "tell me what is going on."

"Ah!" Morwenna held up her hand as if to silence Carys.

But Carys was in no mood to be silenced. She did not like being toyed with.

And someone was most definitely toying with her.

Morwenna? Carys gripped her mug tightly as her magic simmered beneath the surface. But from what she'd heard about this witch who ran The Lonely Tavern, playing games was not her style. She had a reputation for being both cryptic and to the point.

Carys looked into the depths of the liquid that swirled in the cup in her hand. Maybe the drink would help.

She took a deep breath and brought the mug to her lips, the warm, spiced scent filling her nostrils. The liquid was smooth and rich, with a hint of sweetness that lingered on her tongue. As she swallowed, a pleasant warmth spread through her chest, easing some of the tension that had settled there.

Morwenna watched her closely, her gray eyes glinting in the tavern's dim light. "Better?" she asked. "I'm thinking of breaking into the tea scene. It's the only thing the witches around here can't say no to."

Carys nodded, feeling the drink's calming effect wash over her. But it did nothing to quell the nagging sense that something was amiss. She set her mug down on the bar, the soft thunk echoing in the quiet room.

"I appreciate the drink," Carys said, then she felt it. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and her body tensed instinctively.

Behind her, the tavern door creaked open, and she slowly turned, her breath catching as a figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. She couldn't see his features, being blinded a little by the bright winter sunshine pouring in from behind him, but there was something about those broad shoulders and imposing figure that made her heart flutter.

"Ah," Morwenna murmured, a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Right on time."

"You…" The man stepped heavily through the door, his hand resting on the host table as he steadied himself.

Carys took a faltering step toward him, compelled by a force she couldn't explain. Her heart raced as she stared at the man, his features slowly coming into focus as her eyes adjusted to the light. Dark hair, chiseled jaw, and eyes that seemed to pierce right through her—eyes that widened with recognition as they met hers.

"I don't believe it," he breathed, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "You're here."

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "Do I...know you?" The words felt strange on her tongue, as if she should know the answer but couldn't quite grasp it.

"No," he shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. "At least, we have never met, but I have been searching for you…"

"Searching for me?" Carys asked. "Even though we have never met."

"I sensed you once before. Decades ago, on Cairnnor." The man took a step closer, his gaze never leaving Carys's face. "I'm Varn."

Varn. The word was like a whisper in her head. Hadn't she heard that name somewhere before?

"Ah, Carys and Varn are already here." Voices carried in from the doorway as Flint and Liselle entered the tavern, with three older men trailing behind them.

But Carys only had eyes for Varn. It was as if they shared a connection. A deep connection. Soul deep.

"So, how did it go?" Burt asked as he hovered in the doorway. "Erm, sorry." He squeezed past Varn and Carys, frozen to the spot, followed by Flint, Liselle, and the rest of the Regulars.

"Oh, look at that. They still only have eyes for each other." Stan smiled. "Now that's true love."

Carys felt a blush creep up her neck at the man's words, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from Varn. His presence seemed to fill the room, commanding her attention. She took another tentative step forward, drawn to him.

"I don't understand," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chatter of the newcomers. "How could you have sensed me decades ago? And why have you been searching for me?"

Varn's eyes held a depth of pain that made her heart ache. "I think you know. Because you're my mate, Carys. I felt the pull of our bond all those years ago, but I lost you before I could find you. I've been searching ever since."

Carys's mind reeled at his revelation. Mate? Bond? The words swirled in her head.

"Wait a minute," Harry paused as he stepped past them. "Didn't we have this conversation yesterday?"

"Oh, are you reconstructing it for prosperity?" Stan asked. "Now that's a sweet idea."

"Oh no," Morwenna replied as she placed another round of tea-filled mugs on the bar. "I believe they're doing this for the first time, again."

"What do you mean?" Liselle asked as she eyed the pair.

"Carys doesn't remember Varn," Marilla said. "And it seems he doesn't remember her either."

"They don't remember?" Flint asked, stepping forward with the baby in his arms and Liselle by his side.

"No." Marilla shook her head. "They don't."

"Or their first date," Morwenna added. "Their wonderful boat ride on a frozen lake." Morwenna shook her head.

Varn finally dragged his attention away from Carys. "What? We've never been on a first date. Carys disappeared before we had a chance to actually meet, let alone go on a first date."

"Oh my," Liselle said and stepped closer to Carys. "You really don't remember, Varn?"

"How could I?" Carys asked. "You heard what Varn said. He lost me before he even found me. If I'm his mate, surely, he would remember going on a date with me."

"But…" Stan trailed off.

"But what, Stan?" Varn asked bluntly.

"But you two met yesterday and went on your first date. Harry booked you a boat, and Liselle made you a picnic," Stan said as he sipped his drink, almost spitting it out after a moment. "Wait, this isn't bread beer."

"I don't understand," Carys said, her voice trembling slightly. "We've never met before, so how can you say we went on a first date?"

Varn ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his handsome features. Then his expression cleared. "Oh, very funny. This is a joke. Was this Morwenna's idea?"

"A joke?" Carys shook her head, trying to make sense of his words. "If this is a joke, I don't think it's very funny."

"If this was my idea, it would have been hilarious," Morwenna said flatly.

"It's not a joke." Liselle placed a gentle hand on Carys's arm. "Carys, you met Varn here at The Lonely Tavern just yesterday. The two of you had an instant connection. Don't you remember?"

Carys shook her head slowly, a knot forming in her stomach. "No, I... I don't remember any of that." She looked at Varn, searching his face for answers. "How is that possible? If we met and had this connection, why can't we remember it?"

"I don't know." Varn's brow furrowed, his eyes going out of focus for a moment. Carys had seen that look in shifters before. He was talking to his other side. His dragon, if Carys was not mistaken.

She licked her lips, tasting the metallic tang. Yes, Varn was definitely a dragon shifter.

"I sense an experiment coming on," Burt said as he sipped his drink and began to wince before his expression cleared. "What is this stuff?"

"Oh, I do love an experiment," Stan said enthusiastically.

"What kind of experiment?" Varn asked suspiciously.

Morwenna leaned forward, her gray eyes boring into them. "The kind of experiment that might shed some light on this little memory problem of yours." She gestured to Varn and Carys. "Clearly, something unusual is going on here. It's not every day that two mates forget meeting each other and going on a first date."

"What exactly do you propose?" Varn asked.

Stan tapped his chin thoughtfully. "We need to figure out what it is that made you two forget the wonderful date we organized for you."

"I don't know about that," Varn said, closing the distance between him and Carys.

"You don't want to know who or what is behind your memory loss?" Burt asked.

"Maybe we drank something," Varn said. "Or we got a dose of fairy dust that messed with our heads. All I know is I'd rather spend the first day with my mate getting to know her, instead of ‘experimenting.' If that's what you want, Carys."

"Varn does have a point," Morwenna said, glancing toward the door. "It is silly season."

"Silly season?" Liselle rounded on Morwenna. "You mean Christmas?"

"It does bring out the…silliness in people." Morwenna's gaze rested on Flint.

"I'm not sure about silly season," Liselle retorted. "But we need to consider the possibility that there could be a spell or curse at work here, something that's preventing you from remembering each other."

"I see." Varn's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "And if it's happened once, it could happen again."

"And again," Carys murmured.

The question was, how many times had it already happened?