Chapter 10

I wake with a gasp, clutching my chest as Walter startles next to me.

“Happy Birthday, I guess,” he says through our connection, licking his gray paw and curling back up to sleep.

My familiar is ornery on the best day, but he has been crucial to me since finding out I was a witch. He just showed up on my grand-mère’s doorstep, told me he was my familiar, his name was Walter, and he doesn’t eat cat food.

“Something’s wrong, Walter,” I tell him, my body moving on its own accord as I slip on my boots.

I try to fight it and go into my closet and change, but I guess whatever is happening is going to happen in this silk, white nightgown.

Walter’s ears fly back as he stands on the bed and assesses me.

“What is it?”

“I…I don’t know. It’s like I need to go somewhere.”

“Don’t fight it,” Walter suggests.

I nod at the wise cat and grab my purse, tossing my wand inside. When I open the front door and look down, there’s a smushed cupcake. I inspect the container and it looks like there are teeth marks in the plastic.

What the hell?

I put it back down, not knowing where it came from as my feet take me to their destination. I wrap my arms around myself. The night air is cold. Even when I try to turn around and go back into my house to grab a sweater, my body won’t let me. Instead, I take out my wand and cast a warming spell, which works. But when I attempt to cast anything that will stop my momentum or take me back home, the wand seems to be useless.

Could the girls be pulling a birthday prank on me or something?

That’s my best guess as I walk down the path of my property a whole half mile until I reach the main street. At least I’m not as cold anymore as the sun rises, and I let whatever magic is affecting me lead the rest of the way.

My feet ache, and all I want to do is go back to bed, but it seems whatever is possessing me has other plans.

Nothing is open yet, as I finally reach downtown and my legs take me to the courthouse.

I glance around as the early birds trickle into the nearby businesses. I sit on the bench outside and shake my foot with anxiety. Deep down, I’m willing myself to get up and go back home, but my feet won’t move.

This is not how I saw my thirtieth birthday going. I was supposed to get breakfast with my grand-mère and just relax the rest of the day. It wasn’t going to be anything special, but it’s what I wanted.

With shaking hands, I pull my phone out of my purse and call my grand-mère. She refuses to reply to texts.

She doesn’t answer, and I sigh in relief as I leave her a voicemail.

“Hey, grand-mère. I woke up not feeling so great. Can we reschedule breakfast? I’ll talk to you later. I’m going to try and get some more sleep.”

I hang up the phone and just wait. My body is begging to be let into this building, and I have no clue why.

The first government employee comes to the door and glances at me. I must look ridiculous in this nightgown and boots. I didn’t even brush my hair.

As soon as the door is open, I’m pushing my way through. I go through security, but they all give me odd looks, like I’m on their watchlist. I probably should be, because whatever is happening to me feels certifiable.

The moment I open the door to the marriage license office, something in me calms down. I still can’t leave, and so instead I sit down on the bench and think.

“Interesting wedding dress choice. Will the groom be here soon?” the plain-looking woman behind the desk asks.

“What?” I reply.

“Bless your heart, you’re here to get married, right?” she says and I blink at her and look around in the stale government office that hasn’t been updated since 1975.

Me? Getting married? What in the seven depths of hell is going on? I try to back away and my body won’t let me. It’s evident a strong magical force is holding me here specifically.

What could possibly be holding me here, wanting me to get married? This woman probably thinks I’m deranged, wearing a nightgown, boots, and my hair probably looks a mess. I blink a few times and think about the last few days, has anything been different?

My mouth drops. No… no fucking way.

Silas.

“Miss?” she asks, interrupting me putting all the dots together.

“Yes, he’ll be here soon,” I whisper, looking down at my hands. Not knowing if he will actually be compelled here. Is sitting in the office for marriage licenses for the rest of my life my new form of purgatory?

There’s no way. I didn’t even know I was a witch when I made that pact with Silas. I didn’t have a wand, and I was sixteen, for fuck’s sake, I don’t even remember what was said. I didn’t mean the pact literally.

Well, I guess I did when I said it. But right now, I absolutely need to figure out a way to prevent this from happening.

Luckily, my body does let me walk into the ladies’ restroom. I lock myself in a stall and take out my wand. I try every nullification spell I can think of, but the issue is I’m not even sure how I cast the first spell.

That is, if it was a spell. What if I cursed us, or placed a hex on us instead? I’m wracking my brain trying to remember what was said that night, what could possibly undo this very wrong situation I’m in.

It was so long ago, and so much happened that night. I can just remember the basics. We promised each other that if we were single at thirty, then we would marry each other.

Well, I guess that answers my question on if Silas had found anyone in these years apart. We’re both single and thirty and whatever my magic did that night has come back to haunt us.

The air in my lungs feels like it’s leaking out, and I realize that my body is tired of hiding out in this bathroom. I cast a quick spell to smooth down my hair and reduce the dark circles under my eyes before my feet drag me out of the bathroom with a force so strong I’m not sure how I’ll find a way out of this.

I go back to my bench and sit there with my head in my hands.

Maybe Silas won’t have this pull? Maybe I just need to outlast the day and we’ll be free and clear.

It seems I’m not that lucky as a messy haired Silas opens the door to the clerk’s office and glares down at me. Relief fills me, like I’m no longer in pain now that he’s near.

“There you are,” I say in frustrated relief. “We’re so fucked.”

Silas looks around at the humans who are staring at us, wondering what the hell is going on. Then he looks down at my very scandalous nightgown before clearing his throat.

“What the fuck is going on?”

I look around and scoot over on the bench; he takes up most of the space and it’s weird having him this close again. His body is basically radiating heat as he crosses his arms, which are very large, not that I really noticed, and glares down at me.

“What did you do? It’s like I was in a trance on my way here,” he whispers.

“It was the same for me.”

His brows furrow, and he rubs his beard. It makes this scratchy sound that I pretend to hate.

“What do you mean? You clearly cast some petty spell to get back at me for yesterday’s meeting.”

I shake my head and swallow. “No, I cast this spell fourteen years ago, without even knowing it,” I say, picking at my black nail polish.

He sits back on the bench, my words clearly not clicking right away.

“The night I left,” I say, trying to refresh his memory.

He laughs. He fucking laughs, a deep rumbling sound, but then when he looks at my face, it comes to a halt, all joking slipping from his features as he stares at me.

“You can’t be serious?”

“Do you think I’d want to marry you right now?” I complain and I swear something flashes behind his eyes, his dark brown nearly turning gold for a moment. I shift my weight on this hard bench that’s making my ass hurt, wishing I was still in bed and this pissed expression wasn’t plastered on his face.

“No, just like I don’t want to marry you.”

“I fear we don’t have a choice in the matter,” I tell him. Everything in me is tugging me to go to that counter and make this marriage legitimate, even if rationally I want to get as far away from here as possible.

“Well, do something about it. Pull your little wand out and make this go away,” he says. It hurts my feelings, even if I do feel the same way.

“I’ve been here for hours. I don’t know what spell I cast, or if it even was a spell fourteen years ago. I didn’t even know what I was then, Silas. Everything I know about reversal I’ve tried. Undoing something like this is going to take time and research.”

“Are you really suggesting we get married right now and figure it out later?”

“Do you have any other ideas? You feel the same pull as me, don’t you? Like leaving here would be painful?”

He looks around, but nods in defeat. I’m glad I’m at least not alone in this feeling.

“No one can know about this,” he says, glancing over at the employee, who is clearly trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.

“We’re in agreement about that. We’ll just give the hex what it wants and then I’ll work on how to counteract it. No one has to know, and we don’t even have to see each other while I figure it out.”

Silas rubs his chest again, almost like he’s in pain, just like he did at the meeting.

“Are you alright?”

“Let’s just get this over with,” he grumbles as we both stand and walk up to the woman who’s been glaring at me for a few hours.

“You made it. I was wondering if you were getting a case of cold feet. Can I see your IDs and I need you to fill this out. We need twenty-four hours to process your license request and then you can hold a private ceremony and have the officiant sign, or you can book a time at the courthouse,” she says.

“No, we need this to be official today,” I tell her.

She clicks her tongue, saying in so little words that the government doesn’t pay her enough to put up with a weird Bridezilla.

“I’m sorry, unless there are extreme circumstances, we need twenty-four hours.”

Oh, fuck it. This is a time where being a witch comes in handy.

“Cheryl, you’re going to sign off on this certificate and you’re going to get us on the schedule to get married. Today.”

Her brows furrow as the grip on my wand tightens as I hold her under my influence. It’s not a magic I use very often, but it’s one my grand-mère excels at. If she didn’t give me private lessons on mental manipulation, there’s no way I could do this right now.

Cheryl blinks out her confusion.

“Right. The clerk will take you back shortly. Give this to her to sign,” she says, clear confusion written all over her face.

“What about confidentiality?” Silas asks, looking down at me.

I knew when I saw him at the meeting he was far larger than I remember, but standing next to him now feels near comical. An Alpha pack leader indeed.

“We need the record of our marriage sealed.”

“Oh, we don’t seal marriage licenses,” Cheryl replies.

I take a deep breath and focus, my wand being the conduit for this type of power, otherwise I’d probably pass out.

“You will seal this one. It’s a matter of safety.”

Cheryl blinks at me and scrunches her nose. “Right, I can do that for you. Take a seat, the clerk will be with you shortly.”

Some of the earlier tension and unease leaves me as we sit back on the hard wooden bench. I rest my head back in my hands as Silas and I just sit there in silence. If he noticed I had the woman under a spell, he doesn’t say anything, and I’m grateful.

There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to ask, but what’s the point? Maybe we can simply get the marriage annulled, or I’ll be able to work backwards in the magic. Either way, we aren’t staying married, and we certainly aren’t friends.

It doesn’t matter what he’s been up to for the last fourteen years; it doesn’t matter what kind of man he’s become, because we’re nothing. Well, we may be husband and wife shortly, but not for long.