Page 23 of Claimed By Her Monsters

Complete

“Awaken.”

Alister’s voice threads through time and space.

It plucks me from the darkness and sends me hurtling back into my body.

I open my eyes to see I’m in the bed with curtains of velvet.

Alister, Mick, and Caspian crouch around me, concern radiating in the tense set of their shoulders.

We all startle when the clock rings out, chiming like a death toll, twelve times.

Tears flood my eyes. I throw an arm over my face to hide them. “We failed. I’m still me.”

Alister pries my arm away, laughing, bright and unguarded. “You are exactly who you’re supposed to be. You’re Madison, the Clover Witch. Queen of the Witches.”

I blink at him. “I am?”

He laughs again and the sound makes my heart soar. I’ve never seen him look so happy.

Outside, the storm clouds clear. The fire burns low in the hearth, finally content.

“Look inside yourself, little witch. It’s all there.”

I do as he says. Close my eyes and focus inward. There it is. A million lives, a thousand spells. Power rises, crackling through my fingertips. I direct it to the lights overhead and they turn on, flooding the room with brightness.

The four of us hiss and squint, especially Alister.

“Look, I did that,” I exclaim and point at the lights. Pride illuminates my chest even brighter, but the power still flows from me and the bulbs burst in a shower of sparks and shattering glass. “Oops.” My arm drops back to the bed, defeated. “Sorry.”

“Hmm.” Alister glances to the slivers of broken glass on the floor and back to me. “It’s been a while. You might be a little rusty.”

I sit up and press a hand to my forehead, which throbs with a migraine. I guess that’s not surprising, considering that thousands of years of memories and magic just got crammed in there. “I don’t understand. How do I remember everything, but I’m still me?”

“You can’t be all the lives you’ve lived at once,” Alister explains. “You’d go insane.” He takes my hand and brings it to his lips to kiss, reminding me of the stake, the fire, the graveyard where I saw him last.

“You came to me, but then we went to sleep?” I remember everything, but it’s hazy, blurred at the corners.

“You went to sleep,” he corrects. “A dangerous magician hunts us. To protect ourselves, Mick and I lost some of our memories. We forgot loving you.” Sorrow fills his eyes, as if the thought of forgetting our bond, even deliberately, pains him to the core.

Mick places his hand on my knee and squeezes. To Alister, he says, “But we must have remembered in some small way because it explains the draw we had to each other, to Caspian.”

“Caspian.” I find him on my right. My hands rise to his pale cheeks, which flush pink with my touch. “My mate. The fourth leaf.”

I show him the inside of my wrist and when I see it, the clover birthmark, tears come to my eyes. I trace the leaves with unsteady fingers.

Red. Black. Green. White.

Each leaf is a different color.

“We are complete,” I tell my mates.

Alister. Mick. Caspian.

“We are complete,” they echo back, with shaky smiles and love shining in their eyes. For me. For each other. Together, as one, we will stand against the darkness.

“What do we do now?” I bounce on the bed. “Go fight the Tall Hat Man, take over the world.” My gaze drops, shy as I whisper, “Have sex?”

Mick’s stomach rumbles then, and he claps a hand over it.

We all laugh.

“I’m hungry for you, my queen.” Mick ducks his head. “But also hungry for food. Maybe a midnight snack first?”

“Besides,” Alister bumps his shoulder into mine, “I still need to beat you at Monopoly.”

“You wish,” I counter, feeling more myself than I ever have before, and it occurs to me, I have it all: my memories, my power, my mates. Emily Dickinson once said, “Where thou art, that is home.” That’s what these men are to me. My home.

I hop up from the bed and taunt, “Your ass is mine, Alister. I’m going to own you in Monopoly.”

He laughs, sharp teeth glinting. “You already own me, little witch.”

“You own us all,” says Mick.

“Always,” adds Caspian.

The storm abates, rain easing into a gentle patter. The house exhales; floorboards settle and doors sigh shut. In the hearth, flames twine and dance in a slow waltz. Together, hand in hand, we head downstairs toward snacks, a board game, and a future we’ll face as one.

THE END