Chapter 1

SWYN

Okay, switch that last thought: I don't hate being a witch, I hate my family.

I'm not even a person to them. Just a walking womb – their final beacon of hope. I'm the last one, the final Galdur, the end of our entire lineage.

And I don't give a fuck. Because deep down, I know there's more to me than just being a vessel for their expectations.

As the weight of my family's legacy bears down on me, there's a stirring within my soul. Like a whisper of ancient power calling out to me, urging me to break free from the chains of tradition that bind me to my fate.

With each passing second, the magic within me grows stronger, waiting to be unleashed.

Or maybe that's just my reluctance. My rebellion.

I'm being forced to marry a stranger, today, in a few mere minutes in fact, in order to save my family from total extinction.

Or so they'll have me believe.

My cousin, Abi, married a guy to try to break our centuries-long family curse, only to discover that she's barren too.

I've been poked and prodded by witches and warlocks, doctors and shamans, healers and prophets, since before I even hit puberty, and once my womb was declared hospitable and welcoming, my family threw a party.

A literal party to celebrate my womb and the potential it could one day hold.

Fucking cringe.

But that was nothing compared to what followed after. Most teenagers' idea of hell is their parents finding out that they're having sex. Especially unprotected sex. My parents – grandparents and great grandparents too in fact – actively encouraged it.

When it became clear that I had zero intention of getting knocked up just so that the Galdurs could spawn another generation of dying, failing, infertile witches, I declined their schemes to get me pregnant with bells and whistles on.

I even had to buy a black market contraceptive spell, because everyone in our small coven knew not to arm me with resistance. Apparently when you live in a cursed coven, your body is not your own.

Eventually though, the inevitable happened – I came of age with my virginity still very much intact, much to their disappointment – and my family decided it was time for me to settle down and start popping out babies.

With some guy I've never even met.

I didn't even need last night's freaky dream to tell me that it's a bad idea. But here I am, with twenty minutes to go, sitting in my black gown – a final fuck you to my family that I couldn't resist – and I'm all out of ideas on how to get out of this.

Running is futile. My parents remortgaged their house to pay for a powerful warlock to place a tracking spell on me the last time I tried to do a runner. And I'm not sure what other options that leaves me.

I don't want to die.

Yes, I'm a Leo and we lean towards being slightly dramatic, but on the whole, when my womb isn't being dragged into every conversation, I'm happy enough. My life is good enough. Suicide would be a very drastic last resort.

But as the clock ticks ever closer to mid day, it starts to feel like a viable option.

"Swyn!" My mother calls, knocking on the door once before pushing it open, without waiting for a reply. Typical.

"Hmmm?"

"You're going to be late!" she exclaims, her eyes wide with panic. Her once vibrant violet eyes that match mine perfectly, now seem to have dulled over the years from the constant stress, and the dark shadows under her eyes hint at many sleepless nights.

"You can't just ruin your family's legacy like this! Do you have any idea what would happen to us if you refuse to go through with this marriage?"

I force a smile, trying to mask the resentment I'm feeling. "Mother, it's not just about our family's legacy. I have my own life to live, my own dreams to pursue, my own choices to make."

I gesture to my black gown, the symbol of my defiance, as I fold my arms over my chest. "I have time. If you'd all just back off and give me space, I'd fall in love and maybe even come round to the idea of having kids."

"What do you mean, come round to the idea of having kids?" my mother demands sharply.

I sigh, cringing that I've inadvertently let the cat out of the bag, but is it any wonder that I don't want children, when all my life I've had the burden of the entire family's dwindling fertility stacked on my shoulders?

"It's not like my inability to produce an heir is going to cause everyone I know and love to suddenly drop dead. We'll just…die out naturally. I don't see what the big deal is. It's not like there'll be anyone around to care."

I've never understood the human fascination with wanting a male heir to carry on the family name, and my family takes that whole premise to the extreme. They don't even care about male vs female heirs. They just want babies. And lots of them preferably. It's stupid.

God, I wonder how they'd react if I lied and told them I was gay. Maybe I should have gone with that all those years ago. It might have gotten them off my back…

No, it wouldn't.

I sigh.

"Swyn, you don't understand. Our family has been cursed for centuries?—"

"I know!" I cry, fed up and frustrated with having our family history, or curse, parroted at me once more. Surely today of all days, I deserve a break from having this shit rammed down my throat?

"Well, there's things you don't know, young lady," my mother snaps back at me. "Things your father and grandfather wanted me and your grandmother to keep from you, but I think it's high time you knew the full truth and got with the program. It's time to stop being so selfish, Swyn. As the only fertile female left within our lineage, if you don't produce an heir before you turn twenty two, yes, we will all die at the stroke of midnight on your birthday."

Tears well up in my eyes as I lock gazes with my mother, the weight of her words hitting me like a sledgehammer to my chest.

"What? No! That can't be right," I whisper, attempting to reason with her unbelievable revelation.

That's a year from today. I have a year to get married, get knocked up and give birth. The timeline's cutting it fine, I will admit. Maybe my parents should have married me off at thirteen like chattel. I could have spawned an entire football team for them by now. Five aside at least.

"It's the truth, Swyn," she says, her voice steady and firm. "Our family curse holds a darkness far beyond your imagination. If no heir is born within your generation, not only will our bloodline perish, but so will the magical abilities of all Galdurs. We stand as the final barrier against a formidable foe that has coveted our powers for centuries. Without you, without your babies, we lose that protection and perish. And even if we aren't around to care, the darkness that will be unleashed on the world in our absence doesn't bear thinking about. So this isn't just about you, or even us Galdurs. It's about saving the world."

"But how can this be?" I question, still grappling to understand. "You've mentioned before that the curse could be broken."

"Yes, but no one knows how, and in centuries of trying, no Galdur has ever managed it."

The colour drains from my face as I grasp the enormity of my predicament. My decision to forgo parenthood could spell doom for my kin and expose the magical realm to a threat that has loomed over us for generations? That's a heavy weight to bear.

My mother seems to sense my inner turmoil. "Swyn, we know you resent this burden, but it's not just a burden for you to carry alone. We've all been there, sweetie. We'll stand by your side, guide you through the process, and protect you every step of the way. This isn't just about our family legacy or the curse; it's about the survival of our entire magical community. And the human race."

I take a deep breath, wiping away the tears that threaten to spill over. The weight of my family's fate bears down on my shoulders, but a spark of determination ignites within me. I may have resisted the idea of marriage and motherhood before, but now I see it as a duty, a responsibility that goes beyond my own desires.

"Okay," I finally say, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my heart. "I'll do it. I'll go through with the marriage, and I'll do everything in my power to break this curse and ensure our family's survival."

My mother's eyes soften with gratitude and relief. She reaches out to embrace me, and for the first time in a long while, I feel a sense of unity with my family.

That's the most I can promise her, though – that I'll do my best to break the curse – but I can't promise them children. I really don't want them. I don't think. It's hard to know for sure when the idea's been forced on me my entire life.

But as I'm left alone for the final minutes before I'm due to walk down the aisle, I throw some things into a bag – my passport included – just in case.