Page 37 of Unbearable Attraction
"Welcome, daughter of Salem's blood," came Aiyana's voice, warm and familiar despite the supernatural echo that made it seem to come from everywhere at once. "You have opened the door between worlds. Now you must witness what was lost."
The Cherokee medicine woman materialized beside her, no longer the translucent figure who'd appeared in the cemetery but solid and radiant with accumulated wisdom. She looked exactly as she had in Leenah's prophetic vision, young and vibrant and powerful enough to bend reality to her will.
"I'm ready," Leenah said, though her voice sounded strange in this place where thought became speech without the need for vocal cords.
"Are you?" Aiyana's dark eyes held gentle skepticism. "To truly understand what binds us here, you must experience our betrayal as if it were your own. You must feel the weight of broken promises and watch as those you trusted choose greed over honor."
Before Leenah could ask what she meant, the library around them dissolved into living history.
1739. Fifty years after the original pact was sealed, and the time for renewal had come. But the supernatural settlers had grown prosperous in their hidden valley, their magical abilities giving them advantages in trade and agriculture that made them wealthy beyond their ancestors' dreams.
"The spirits ask too much," complained Jeremiah Blackwood, a warlock whose family had amassed significant holdings since arriving in Hollow Oak. "We've upheld our end of the bargain. Why should we continue to share our prosperity with entities who contribute nothing to our daily survival?"
Aiyana stood in the stone circle, her ceremonial dress rippling in supernatural winds as she prepared for the renewal ceremony. Around her, other Cherokee shamans and fae guardians waited with growing unease as more and more of the supernatural families failed to appear for the sacred ritual.
"The pact requires unanimous consent," she said quietly. "Without the full participation of those who benefited from our protection, the magic cannot be renewed."
"Then perhaps it's time to renegotiate the terms," Blackwood replied with the kind of cold arrogance that came from confusing wealth with wisdom. "We no longer need the same level of spiritual protection we once required. Surely a reduced ceremony would suffice."
What followed was worse than outright refusal. The supernatural families had come to the renewal ceremony not to honor their obligations but to demand new terms that would benefit them while leaving the indigenous spirits with nothing. They wanted the protection without the cost, the magical advantages without the spiritual responsibility.
The negotiation, if it could be called that, lasted hours. And when it became clear that the supernatural settlers were more interested in exploitation than partnership, Aiyana made a choice that would bind her people between worlds for centuries.
"You would break faith with those who welcomed you as refugees?" she asked, her voice carrying the weight of profound disappointment. "You would steal what was freely given and call it negotiation?"
"We call it progress," Blackwood replied. "The old ways no longer serve our needs."
Aiyana's expression hardened with resolve. "Then you will discover what happens when the old ways are forgotten entirely."
The curse she wove in that moment was both protection and punishment. The spirits who'd been betrayed would remain bound to the sacred sites, ensuring that the supernatural families couldn't exploit the land's magic without consequence. But the binding also trapped the indigenous shamans and fae guardians between worlds, unable to rest until the broken promises were acknowledged and true justice was done.
The vision faded, leaving Leenah standing once again in the memory library with tears streaming down her face. The weight of centuries of injustice pressed against her consciousness, made worse by the knowledge that this betrayal hadn't been an act of desperate survival but simple greed.
"They had everything," she whispered. "Safety, prosperity, a home where they could practice magic freely. And they threw it all away for what? More money? More power?"
"For the illusion that they could take without giving," Aiyana replied sadly. "For the belief that their needs mattered more than their promises."
Around them, other spirits began to materialize. Cherokee shamans whose wisdom had helped establish the original protections. Fae guardians who'd woven their life force into the barriers that kept Hollow Oak hidden from hostile forces. European spiritualists who'd refused to participate in Blackwood's betrayal and died trying to honor the original pact.
All of them trapped by the actions of people who'd chosen personal gain over collective responsibility.
"The curse can be broken," Aiyana continued, her form beginning to flicker as the strain of maintaining the spiritual bridge took its toll on Leenah's physical body. "But not through simple acknowledgment or apology. Too much time has passed, too much damage has been done. Only a new pact, sealed with willing sacrifice, can free us from this bondage."
"What kind of sacrifice?" Leenah asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer.
"Life force freely given. A bridge between worlds who chooses to bear our spiritual burden, allowing us to pass on to whatever realm awaits beyond the veil." Aiyana's expression grew gentle with understanding. "It need not be fatal, daughter. If you are strong enough, if you have enough love anchoring you to the living world, you might survive the transfer. But the choice must be yours, and it must be made with full knowledge of the cost."
The cost. Leenah could feel it already, the way maintaining the spiritual bridge was draining her strength with each passing moment. Her physical body, kneeling in the stonecircle back in the waking world, was trembling with exhaustion as otherworldly energy flowed through her like molten metal through too-narrow channels.
But it wasn't the physical pain that made her hesitate. It was the sudden, overwhelming awareness of what she would be leaving behind.
Luka. She could feel his presence at the edge of the grove, could sense his terror and helpless fury as he watched her channel forces that could destroy her. The memory of their night together flooded through her consciousness like warm honey, every touch and whispered endearment a reminder of what love could feel like when you finally stopped running from it.
"He's there," she said, more to herself than to Aiyana. "He came for me."
"Love often drives people to impossible choices," the medicine woman observed. "The question is whether your love will give you strength to survive the sacrifice, or whether it will make the cost too high to bear."
Leenah closed her eyes, feeling the pull of two equally powerful obligations. The trapped spirits deserved justice, deserved freedom from a curse that had bound them for centuries through no fault of their own. But Luka deserved to have someone who chose him, who didn't throw away their chance at happiness for the sake of correcting historical wrongs.
