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Mor

“Breaking a curse is starting to feel like a family tradition,” I murmur as I trudge through the woods toward the statue garden that sits beside my library.

My three siblings and my brother-in-law follow close behind.

When my sister and I first moved to Folk Haven—a small town in northern Georgia, known among mythical creatures as a safe place to build a life—I expected to spend most of my days sorting books and helping others with their research.

That was why I’d spent so much time collecting magical texts.

I’d wanted to simply be a keeper of knowledge.

But now I’m the third witch in my family with the self-assigned task to free an unfortunate soul from a curse.

“Yes. Exactly.” My brother Anthony jogs to catch up with me, his arms full of a pewter cauldron.

“I was thinking that, too, and it’s freaking me out. Like, when is a mythic, trapped by an evil enchantment, going to stumble into my life and need me to save them? Is someone going to try cursing Zara?” He names the harpy and veterinarian he fell in love with not long ago.

The two of them met when she rescued him from a snake.

Turns out, the reptile was Anthony’s familiar, so he was never actually in any danger.

Witches tend to find an animal companion at some point in their life, and the creature acts as a comfort and protector.

Of the four Shelly children, I’m the only one who hasn’t encountered mine yet.

I’m also the only one without a partner.

“Being mated to you is curse enough, I’d say,” Broderick offers, smirking at his twin, then dodging away with a bark of laughter as Anthony tries to kick him.

Sometimes, I forget they’re grown men.

Around each other, they slip back into teenage antics.

“Do you think the creature will try to kiss you?”

I halt in my tracks and turn to stare at my sister, Ame.

All of us Shelly siblings have rich red hair, but where my brothers and I are tall, she’s relatively short.

And while I have plenty of curves, Ame is on the slight side.

In general, she gives off an air of vulnerability, though in practice, she’s got some impressively powerful magic.

Still, everyone in her life seems to have the unconscious urge to protect her.

My need to keep her safe is only surpassed by one other.

Her mate, my brother-in-law, Jack.

The werewolf, who claims my sister as his, holds her hand now and carries most of the spell ingredients in a large satchel over his shoulder.

He’s the strongest of our lot, and he volunteered to transport the heaviest load.

“Why,” I ask Ame, my voice tight with trepidation, “do you think the creature will try to kiss me?” An unbidden image of cold metal lips pressed against mine flashes through my thoughts, and I shudder.

Once they’re free, they shouldn’t be metal , I remind myself.

The sculpture is not actually made of iron, but is in fact a living mythical being, and they have been trapped for who knows how long.

From the day I moved to Folk Haven two years ago, the beast has stood frozen.

A massive figure, snarling with a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth and a body that appears to be an uncomfortable blend of fur and scales.

Even though I’m willing to free the creature, it is not something I’d like to lock lips with.

“That’s what Jack did.” Ame points at her handsome mate.

When we first came upon the man a handful of years ago, he was trapped in the form of a black cat.

I thought he was only a cat, but Ame sensed the feline was more than he appeared.

Eventually, after searching for years through our collection of grimoires, my sister discovered a way to break his curse.

A spell I plan on using tonight.

But this is the first I’m hearing about his reaction to being freed.

“You went from cat to man and immediately tried making out with a stranger?” Anthony asks, frowning at the wolf.

“Not a stranger. Ame.” Jack speaks in a flat tone, not caring in the least about what any of us thinks of him.

Ame’s opinion is the only one that matters.

“I’d do it again.”

“In the future, I consent,” Ame adds, smiling up at Jack.

He leans down and kisses her.

I huff a sigh and turn back toward my destination.

In theory, I’m very happy for my sister—all my siblings in fact—and their fulfilling love lives.

But the PDA is getting to me.

A reminder that I haven’t gotten any in a while.

Not even private displays of affection.

But that does not mean I want some raging creature unshackled from a curse to immediately try a lip-lock.

“You’re coming for protection, Jack,” I call over my shoulder.

“That also means unwanted romantic advances. Do not let whoever this is kiss me.”

The wolf grunts an affirmation, not one for a lot of words unless he’s talking to my sister.

“Ophelia didn’t try to kiss me,” Broderick sighs.

“I would have let her in a heartbeat.”

Ah, yes, the other Shelly sibling who freed someone from a curse, only to fall in love with them, thereby making this into a pattern.

The same sorcerer who had cursed Jack to be a cat also enchanted a firebird named Ophelia into the form of a rabbit.

Broderick took the lead on freeing her.

Then he promptly insulted her—on accident—and it took months for her to speak to him again.

Now they’re dating, and he’s besotted, and there’s more of that PDA I have to deal with.

“Don’t worry.” Anthony pats Broderick on the shoulder.

“She fell for you in the end.”

He sidles up to me as I spy my first statue through the break in the trees.

His shoulder nudging against mine is a good distraction from the heaviness of emotions pulsing in the air.

“I’m sure whoever this is will be grateful for your help, then head on their way. No getting handsy.”

I huff a laugh, then roll my shoulders and rub my eyes to try and ease the tension ratcheting up in my body.

The cloud of tumultuous emotion we’re approaching only seems to affect me even though my siblings have emotion powers of their own.

Under normal circumstances, I can fully block out the emotional registers of others, or I can mute them until all I see is a vague collection of colors in their aura.

But when emotions are high, they hit me like a weight, hurt me like a migraine.

If I can’t block them, I have to experience them as if each were my own.

We break from the trees and step into the statuary.

The moon is dark tonight, which means the sky is a blanket of stars.

My night vision is decent, but I flick on my flashlight because this is delicate work, and I need to check the spell as I set things up.

In the flare of light, the shadowy art pieces seem to come to life.

Or maybe that’s just how they were crafted.

Each figure appearing on the verge of movement.

I step around a Pegasus rearing toward flight and navigate to the only statue here that will truly move tonight.

As long as I cast correctly.

For a long time, I was too uncomfortable to visit this statue garden.

The strong emotions drenching this place make approaching it hard for me to handle.

My magic and mind are under constant bombardment, the mysterious emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

I thought the effect was from grief.

Dimitri, the dragon who previously owned our house and crafted all these designs, lost his wife—his mate—just before moving to Folk Haven.

Emotions have a touch of magic to them.

They can tie themselves to a place or object.

That’s often how ghosts come about.

And if you’re a witch like me, constantly aware of the emotional auras of those nearby, lingering feelings can also register.

But none were ever so strong as those in the statue garden.

Turns out, that’s because they weren’t leftover feelings.

All the pain and rage and remorse and fear belong to this creature, held prisoner in an all-encompassing cage of metal.

“Anyone having second thoughts about letting our metal buddy loose?” Anthony asks.

“Looks like they could do some damage.”

“Most everyone in Folk Haven can do damage,” Ame points out.

“That doesn’t mean they deserve to be trapped.”

“I checked with Levi and Selena.” I name the monster and witch, respectively, who sit on the town’s Mythic Council.

“There’s no record of a monster being imprisoned. They claim the town has never done that. They attempt to use less painful methods to deal with any problems.”

Like Ame’s magic, which can be utilized to persuade people.

She’s worked spells to have people want to leave Folk Haven behind forever.

“And Jack has agreed to act as protection if it gets violent,” my sister reminds us.

All five of us turn to stare at the statue’s snarling mouth.

“My bet is on attack first, talk later,” Anthony mutters.

“Do you want to leave?” I snap at my brother, already on edge because of the bombardment of emotions and the pressure of working a large spell I’ve never done before.

He pouts. “No. I don’t want to be left out of family activities.”

“Then stop nitpicking. I’ve had months to consider this, and I’m doing it.”

I finally faced my fear this past summer, venturing into the statue garden, and that was when I realized this terrifying creation was actually a living creature.

But I couldn’t simply grab a spell book, waltz back, and free him.

This is a delicate process, requiring some rare ingredients and a helpful boost from the cosmos.

Today is the autumn equinox, and I plan to channel the power of the season to supercharge my spell.

Our group takes the next hour to set up everything for the curse breaking.

Lighting bonfires and burning the herbs I’ve gathered.

Drawing chalk circles, filled with spell words in the witch language.

And something new—marking the statue with a tracking symbol.

I have to climb up on the creature’s shoulder to reach the spot behind their ear where I want to draw it.

This puts my face next to theirs, so close to their saffron-colored fury that pulses like a heartbeat.

“You’ll be free soon,” I whisper to them.

“We’re here to help.”

There’s no response in their aura, and I wonder if maybe they were frozen in the last emotion they felt.

“Please don’t kill us,” I add before climbing back down.

Preparations complete, I kneel in front of the grimoire, watching as my three siblings pierce the skin of their thumbs with the sharp blade of a dagger.

They’ve agreed to be power sources while I work the spell.

I tug off my sweatshirt, shivering, as I’m left in only leggings and a sports bra.

Broderick and Anthony flank me, each pressing a hand to the bare skin of my shoulders, while Ame settles her palm on the middle of my back.

They speak the words to share power, and I can’t hold back a yelp of surprise at the amount of magic flowing into me.

My veins buzz with the excess strength.

Is this how my parents felt when they took from me?

I shake my head to clear away the toxic memory and focus on the grimoire open in front of me.

My veins are flush with power, and I’m ready to do some badass magic shit.

“Take of my body. My blood to break.” Now it’s my turn to cut my palm, spilling blood over my feverish skin.

“A curse before me,” I say in the witch’s tongue, “break it.”

This spell work was agonizing for Ame when she cast it on her own and still painful for Broderick when he had my sister and my help.

For me though, backed by three witches, there’s almost no discomfort.

Or maybe it’s the nature of the curse we’re breaking.

The other two were cast with twisted magic by a sorcerer.

This is … different.

The metal turns a scorching red, as if sitting in a furnace.

The glow lights up the clearing, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Then it begins to melt, dripping off in rivulets that hit the ground with steaming hisses.

More and more molten metal spills away, revealing what was encased beneath.

Dark fur, bisected by violet scales.

A body that appears to have been mashed together in odd amalgamations.

A dramatically sloped spine shudders and flexes.

A heavy jaw jerks.

A throat lets out a long, low snarl.

Jack returns with one of his own, but the sound is a simple warning.

The beast thrashes, and we all jerk back.

All except for Jack, who steps forward, now wearing his wolfman shape.

I’m not sure when he shifted, but I’m glad he took the initiative.

This is the best form he has for fighting.

Turns out, a protector isn’t needed though because, the next moment, the creature topples forward, landing in a quivering heap on the ground.

Then the melting starts again, only this time fur and scales morph into skin.

In the space of ten deep breaths, a man appears.

And the tapestry of his emotions temporarily blinds me.