Chapter 35

OLAND

The first thing I register as consciousness returns is the unmistakable scent of sage and something sweet, like honeyed tea. I blink against the bright light that floods the room, squinting until my vision sharpens.

It takes a moment for my surroundings to register—a cosy bedroom filled with mismatched furniture, the walls adorned with photographs and colourful tapestries.

I'm lying on a bed, a handmade patchwork quilt draped over me, and I realise I'm safe.

But as I try to sit up, a sharp pang shoots through my side, and I let out a groan.

"Ah, you're awake at last!" a voice cuts through the haze, sharp and filled with a teasing lilt. I turn my head, squinting against the light, and come face-to-face with a woman who looks like she stepped out of a vintage magazine.

Her bright blue eyes twinkle with mischief, framed by false lashes, thick with mascara. Her hair, white and perfectly coiffed, sits like a halo around her head.

She wears a leopard print blouse and tight leather pants that emphasise her frail frame, paired with orthopaedic shoes that look absurdly out of place.

A full face of makeup and vibrant red lipstick complete her look, and despite her age—probably in her eighties—there's an undeniable strength in her presence that commands attention.

"Mavis?" I croak, surprised by how easily the name comes to me. I vaguely remember her from my childhood, her sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude.

She may appear delicate, but I know better than to underestimate her.

"Well, look who finally decided to wake up! Took you long enough," she snaps, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently. The corners of her mouth twitch as if she's suppressing a smile, but the grumpy facade is strong.

"I appreciate the help," I manage, pushing myself up a little more and trying to ignore the discomfort. "I'm... grateful."

"Grateful? Oh, darling, I don't need your thanks. I just like playing with the wounded," she retorts, sighing and shaking her head dramatically. "Besides, you're a tough one. You'll pull through just fine."

There's a moment of silence where we simply regard each other. The playful glint in her eyes makes me feel oddly at ease despite the pain.

"Is Swyn here?" I ask, trying to suppress the wave of anxiety that rushes through me.

Her expression shifts slightly, a hint of softness breaking through her tough exterior. "You've got a lot of people worried about you, kid. I'll get her. Don't you dare go back to sleep on me, though. I don't have time for any more of your melodrama."

With a wave of her hand, she leaves the room, and I'm left with my thoughts, battling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. I need to see Swyn, to reassure her that I'm okay.

With everything, not just my health. I'm okay if she needs time to love me.

Moments later, the door swings open again, and Kel walks in, his presence a balm to my frayed nerves.

"Hey, you're awake!" His relief is palpable, and I manage a small smile despite my discomfort. "Mavis said you were out cold and hard to heal for a while. You scared the hell out of us."

"Did I?" I try to sound casual, but there's a tension that lingers in the air. These three men are my brothers, but we're strangers. I barely remember our childhood, but I have a feeling in my chest, like intuition, that we had fun together, despite me being ten years older than them.

I can't really recall the details of why we were separated, but the bond between us is as unmistakable as the one between me and Swyn. Why can't I remember them properly though?

Some kind of memory spell perhaps?

Kel nods, his expression turning serious. "Yeah, but Mavis worked her magic. You'll be fine. Swyn is... she's really worried about you."

"Can I see her?" I ask, my voice firmer now, determined to push through the pain and wondering why Mavis hasn't sent her in already.

"Of course," he replies, stepping back to give me room. "I'll go get her."

As he leaves, I take a moment to breathe, focusing on the warmth of the quilt and the soft sounds of the house around me. I think about Swyn and how she must feel, worried and uncertain after everything.

I should have made my presence known to her sooner. I've wasted too much time, watching from the shadows, when I should have been open and honest.

We could have been getting to know each other and making up for lost time. All of us.

A few minutes later, Kel returns with Swyn, Sol, and Ri. The moment I lay eyes on her, my heart swells. She looks worn but fierce, a mix of worry and relief etched on her face.

Her hair is slightly messy, and there are dark circles under her eyes, but she's beautiful, and the sight of her makes my heart race.

"Oland!" she exclaims, rushing to my side. Her touch is gentle, and the moment she grips my hand, a surge of warmth and strength flows between us.

Unmistakable bond.

"Hey, I'm okay," I say, my voice more confident than I'm feeling. "Thanks to Mavis."

"Of course she'd take care of you," Swyn replies, her voice steadying as she looks between me and the others. "She's fierce like that."

Sol steps forward, his expression warm, but I notice Ri standing back, arms crossed and frowning, his demeanour grumpy and standoffish.

"Hey, Ri," I say, attempting to break the ice. "I'm glad to see you."

"Yeah, well, don't get too comfortable," he replies, his tone flat. "You still have to explain what the hell happened, why you're here and what your intentions with our girl are."

I nod, understanding the weight of his words. There's so much to unravel, so many questions that hang heavy in the air. But for now, I focus on Swyn, her hand in mine, how right it feels and how I never want to let her go.

As I lie there, the reality of our situation sinks in. Swyn's fingers tighten around mine, anchoring me in the present.

"First things first," I say, my voice steady even though my heart is racing. "We need to gather everything we know about the curse. We can't fight what we don't understand."

"Agreed," Ri chimes in, his expression still a mask of discontent. "But we need to be smart about it. No reckless moves. We can't afford to lose anyone."

Swyn nods, her gaze unwavering. "We'll start with Mavis. She's got more knowledge than she lets on, and she's been around long enough to know how these things work."

"I'll be right back," Kel says, his voice low and focused. He slips out of the room, determination etched into his features.

Left alone with Sol and Ri, the tension in the air crackles like static. Sol shifts slightly, glancing at me with a mix of concern and sympathy.

"You really scared us back there, Oland."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly trying to impress anyone," I reply, forcing a small chuckle. "I'm just glad you guys got me to Swyn's in time."

"That was no easy feat," Ri adds, his voice softer now. "You need to take care of yourself. Whatever curse was cast, you can't fight it on empty."

"Trust me, I know," I say, feeling the weight of their eyes on me. "But I can't just sit here. We have to act, and we have to act fast."

Moments later, Kel returns, followed by Mavis, who bustles in with an air of authority.

"You boys look like you've seen a ghost," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oland, darling, it's about time you showed up. I've been waiting long enough to put you to work."

Her bright blue eyes lock onto mine, a mischievous glint sparking behind them. "Now, tell me, what have you done to get yourself into this mess? You've always been a bit of a troublemaker, haven't you?"

I smirk, the tension easing slightly under her unyielding gaze. "You could say that. But I think we're all in trouble now. We need your help."

Mavis crosses her arms, her expression shifting to something more serious. "Well, it seems you've stumbled into a right pickle. Morfran doesn't take kindly to family stepping out of line. He's been lurking for far too long, and now, he's set his sights on all of you."

"Morfran? What do we need to do?" I ask, feeling the gravity of the moment.

"We need to break this curse before he even thinks about showing his ugly face," she replies, her voice steady. "Then, you'll need every ounce of power you have, and that means all of you. Are you ready to fight?"

Swyn's grip on my hand tightens again, and I see the fire igniting in her eyes.

"We're ready," she declares. "Whatever it takes."

Mavis nods, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "Good. Because he won't do half-measures, and neither should you."

As Mavis strides towards the door, I can't shake the feeling that we're standing on the edge of something monumental. The road ahead is dark and treacherous, but with Swyn and my brothers by my side, I feel a flicker of hope igniting within me. Whatever Morfran has in store, we'll meet it head-on, the pieces falling into place.

"Wait a minute," I interject, feeling a rush of concern. "You're not talking about?—"

Mavis waves a dismissive hand, her expression barely hiding her amusement.

"Oh, darling, if you think that sleeping with her is the worst part of this, you're in for a surprise. But yes, that's the key. Until that bond is formed, the curse remains intact."

Swyn's cheeks flush, a mix of shy determination washing over her features. "I won't let that define what happens between us, Oland," she says, her voice fierce and unwavering. "This is our choice. We'll make it when we're ready."

"Right, no pressure," I reply, trying to keep the tension light. But inside, I'm wrestling with the enormity of the situation. The curse ties us together in ways I hadn't anticipated, and the weight of that connection sends a thrill of fear and excitement through me.

"We have to prepare for whatever comes next," Sol says, stepping forward. "We need to figure out how to keep Morfran at bay until we can break the curse."

"Exactly," Mavis agrees. "He'll be watching you, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. You can't afford any slip-ups, or he'll swoop in and take what he wants. Believe me, he won't hesitate to turn you against each other."

"Then let's get to work," I say, determination surging within me. "What do we need to do?"

Mavis turns, her mind clearly racing with possibilities. "First, we need to gather supplies—potions, charms, anything to strengthen your bond and protect you from Morfran's influence. There are ancient texts that might hold the secrets we need, and they're not far from here. The catacombs under the town should hold some answers, or one of the Priestess' sacred spaces."

"I have no idea what I'd be looking for," Swyn admits. "But I can help you search."

"It's fine, child. I have three strong, young, strapping lads to boss around and do my bidding. You stay here with the sickly one and play nursemaid."

"Hey! I'm not sickly!" I protest, spluttering.

She grins at me. "No? Ready to run a marathon are ya?"

"Maybe if I was better healed," I reply. "Perhaps you're losing your touch in your old age."

Mavis's eyes narrow, a wicked gleam flashing in those bright blue depths as she steps closer, wagging a bony finger at me. "Careful, lad, or I'll make sure you heal slower than a slug on molasses. I'm older than dirt, but I've got more magic in one wrinkle than you've got in that whole hard head of yours."

Swyn stifles a laugh beside me, and I shoot her a mock glare. "You think this is funny?"

"A little," she admits, squeezing my hand. "But you did walk right into that one."

I grin, but Mavis keeps right on talking. "Honestly, if you lot didn't have me, you'd be lost. Good thing I'm still spry enough to carry this whole team on my back." She rolls her shoulders, as if preparing for the weight of the world.

Ri, standing by the door, folds his arms, deadpan. "And here I thought we were the strong, strapping lads."

"Please," Mavis scoffs, tossing him a scathing look. "I could whip up a potion that'll have you running in circles 'till next week. Or worse, put you in a position where Swyn here has to spoon-feed you for the next month."

Swyn snorts, trying to hide her amusement behind her hand.

"I wouldn't mind seeing that," she says with a playful smile. "Might teach Ri some manners."

I shake my head, mock scandalised. "So, this is how it's gonna be? Ganging up on us guys?"

Sol leans back against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, you do have a tendency to stir the pot. Might as well reap what you sow."

"I don't stir the pot," I say, looking around for backup and finding none. "I gently nudge it in the right direction."

"Like when you almost got us caught that one time with the warded perimeter?" Ri adds, deadpan, eyes locked on mine. His grumpy expression barely hides the spark of amusement.

Oh, how had I forgotten about that? The triplets weren't even in school when that happened.

"That was one time," I defend. "And I distinctly remember someone—" I shot a look at Sol, who's grinning from ear to ear "—being a little too enthusiastic with his magic."

Sol holds up his hands. "Hey, you said we needed more firepower. Don't blame me for being thorough."

Mavis waves her hand dismissively. "Enough of your banter, boys. If you're done bickering like a bunch of hens, we've got work to do. We're going to head into the catacombs while Swyn stays and nurses Mr. Not-Sickly here." She casts a pointed look at me.

I groan, but there's a smile tugging at my lips. "I'm telling you, give me a few hours and I'll be as good as new."

"Sure, sure," Mavis says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "And I'll be winning beauty pageants by sundown."

Kel leans over, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, "Honestly, she might."

Sol's chuckle fills the room, and even Ri lets out a low grunt that might be a laugh.

Swyn's hand squeezes mine again, and I catch her eyes, warmth radiating between us. "You'll be fine," she assures me softly, her voice a steady anchor amidst the teasing. "I'll be right here."

I flash her a smile. "I know. Just don't let Mavis put me in anything ridiculous while I'm recovering."

"Oh, I've got just the thing," Mavis cuts in with a wink. "A nice floral robe and some fuzzy slippers should do the trick."

Kel grins. "I vote we let her."

I groan dramatically, throwing my head back. "See what I have to deal with? Lucky Charm, I don't mind sharing you, but does it have to be with these arseholes?"

"Arseholes?" Ri snickers. "It's assholes, dude. And you need to pick a different nickname for her. Lucky charm's mine."

"I called her that first," I reply with a triumphant grin which causes Ri to bare his teeth at me. "Though I guess I can claim the title wife for her."

"Enough," Mavis interrupts again, clapping her hands. "We need to get moving if you boys are serious about breaking this curse. Time's ticking, and I'm not getting any uglier."

"Could've fooled me," Sol mutters under his breath.

Mavis shoots him a look. "Keep it up, cinnamon roll, and I'll be feeding you some ‘special' tea next."

Sol pales. "Point taken."

With a dramatic sigh, I try to sit up straighter. "Alright, get going before she decides to curse us all."

Mavis gestures toward the door. "Off we go, boys. We won't come back empty-handed."

As Mavis, Kel, Ri, and Sol head toward the door, I can't help but call after them, "Try not to get lost in the catacombs! I'm not coming to rescue you this time."

Kel winks. "We'll leave the heroics to you, big bro."

As the door swings shut behind them, the playful atmosphere lingers for a moment before Swyn's eyes meet mine again, softer now. The room feels quieter without the banter, the gravity of what lies ahead settling back in.