by Sariah Skye
“Shite.” Trystan slapped his hand loudly against his forehead. “What are we thinking? We’re being right arseholes! When dealing with a woman—who is your best resource when they’re confusing?”
“Oprah?” I suggested, only half kidding. The woman knew her shit…not that I would know because I never ever watched it…nope nope nope.
I glanced back at Mathias; he exchanged a look with Lachlan. Bash snorted from the kitchen derisively. “Who, then?” Bash questioned.
Trystan yanked out his phone from his back pocket, swiped through the screen and put the phone to his ear. “Hello, Summer? Would ye be free to meet for coffee tomorrow at Fox Hollow?”
Chapter Eighteen
“It’s just the curse, Ava. You don’t really think they’d care about you if it wasn’t for that, do you?”
Cue the cackling, evil laughter.
I glanced around in confusion, standing in the middle of a dense forest, fog permeating the dirt ground and leaf litter below my feet. With every step I took away from the taunting voice, the fog parted into tendrils that curled upward, gently touching the tops of my feet before dispersing.
Besides the green of the trees, and the thick moss on the damp, black trunks, all I could see beyond me was bright white. No sun, no sky…just endless white.
“Ava…” a soft voice whispered on the wind, as the trees nearby rustled.
I stopped to listen. Did I really just hear that? No, it couldn’t be.
“Don’t be daft, Avalon! If you couldn’t get average human boys to be interested in you, what makes you think that gorgeous specimens like those would be?” The taunting voice was uncomfortable, rattling me to the root of my soul. No matter where I looked, I couldn’t see the owner, but I knew who it was. Her words haunted me in my dreams, and the waking world every time I looked at one of the guys: Mathias, Trystan, Sebastian, and Xander. Surely, she was right—there was no way. Xander’s little move in the parking lot proved that true. They were surely just using me. Or, since they literally couldn’t be in a relationship with anyone else, their affections defaulted to me. They wouldn’t really be interested in me otherwise.
A lone tear striped down my cheek, and I let out a soft whimper. “No…” for some reason, that thought was more depressing than anything I could ever fathom.
“Avalon…dear Avalon…please don’t listen to her.”
“Huh?” I asked in confusion, spinning around trying to find the source of the new voice. My white gown and robes with long, drapey sleeves flung out as I turned, flinging the stinging fog away.
Stinging?
The words—the evil words of my mother—were carried on the fog. I cringed, shying away into myself, but it was everywhere.
“Use your magic, dearest one. You can do it.” The soft voice on the wind rustled the trees above. It was soothing like a cup of chamomile tea, clasped between your cold hands.
“I’m…not sure…” I began, doubting myself once more, but that’s when I knew that wasn’t true.
I knew how to use the magic.
“That’s right, Ava…find that space inside.” A faint silhouette of my father, adorned in his shiny metal armor, with a long, silver sword carried in front of him appeared, and he nodded, smiling encouragingly.
I nodded slowly. Yes, I could do it.
“Give it up, Ava…you can’t control the magic.” The cackling voice on the fog taunted once more.
I frowned, watching a particularly large plume of the white, dense fog grow taller near me, and seemed to reach out.
The place inside my mind, the place that felt calm, and bright blue like the sky buzzed; almost as if to say, “I’m right here…use me.”
I closed my eyes and concentrated, reaching out for the blue orb. I grasped it gently, and it sat in my hand—or it did in my mind.
“Ava…” the cackling voice hissed.
“Fuck no! Enough of you!” I tossed the blue orb at it in my mind, but in reality, there was no blue, only a burst of invisible energy. The air directly in front of me shimmered slightly and slapped at the fog. It hissed, twisting, and falling away, back into the forest.
“That’s it…you’ve got it!” The calm voice said again, and a stronger breeze wafted around me—not altogether unpleasant, just surprising. I didn’t notice how cold I was until the calming zephyr blew over my shoulders, pulling the white cloak and gown out behind me, twisting the open neckline around my now bare shoulder.
Especially when the clearing was suddenly filled with the unfamiliar faces of similarly dressed women, all dancing around a low fire, spinning and arms raised in time to a low beat of a drum nearby. A drum? I recalled yesterday, when my father was teaching me about the magic, about the drum I heard in my mind when I was searching for my magic? Could it have been this place after all? Wherever this was…
The women wore expressions of bliss and pleasure, some of them partially naked, their robes open down to the waist, or deep slits cut up the fronts of their skirts, exposing a little skin or a lot, depending on who it was. It didn’t seem indecent, though… it just… was. Natural. It was empowering; freeing. Even though I wasn’t about ready to rip open my top and let my F-cup boobs go flailing in the wind, it was nice to know I could. I guess?
The women before me all had various colors of hair, blonde to brown to fiery copper; long, and floating around them like rainbow halos. One young woman carried a young infant, swathed also in white, and the baby suckled at her chest. Another woman cooed over the little one as they smiled and swayed in time to the steady beat.
“Ava.” The calm voice of reason from before snapped me out of my reverie. I looked away from them, and into the strangely comforting face of a full-figured, silver haired woman. Something about her was familiar, with shimmering blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and red-stained lips. “There you are,” she said, her mouth slipping into a wide smile. With a graceful, sweeping gesture, she bowed down lowly. “Ladies! Women of Avalon! She has arrived!”
All the women dancing, or milling about ceased their dancing, including the lone drummer, that had been tapping on the small instrument she carried at her waist. They all turned to look at me, with happy, welcoming smiles.
“Merry meet, sister!” They all echoed, not quite in unison, but still friendly and melodic. I felt a sense of overwhelming peace was over me.
“Um…hi?” I said uncomfortably.
The silver-haired woman just chuckled lightly. “This must seem very strange to you, doesn’t it?”
I nodded slowly. “You could say that. Where the fuck are we? Topless beach in France?”
She laughed. “No, not even close. We’re in Avalon of course.”
My mouth dropped open. “How…is that possible? I thought Avalon—”
“Avalon is within you, dearest one,” she said, “but in your world, it exists only in your mind. You’re connected with us on an unconscious level.”
“But…how…?” I stammered, confused.
She laughed gently. “Soon. Very soon you’ll understand. While you’re here, please…come join us. I sense a great disturbance in you, it weighs heavily on your shoulders. Please, talk, tell us how we can help.” With another sweeping gesture of her arm, the white fabric of her sleeve gently flapping in the air, she motioned to the low fire. I glanced around, just now noticing that we seemed to be in some sort of clearing. The forest was further away than I anticipated. I gasped, suddenly remembering—
“My father? Is he—” I began, but the silver haired matron—that seemed an appropriate term for her—just chuckled.
“Ah, Lancelot.” She said his name with affection. “He has been upon this isle before, but this time I’m afraid he was only in your mind.”
“But—if he was in my mind—how am I here?” I asked, confused.
“Well, this is a different level of your mind.”
I blinked at her, stupefied. “I don’t get it.”
“You don’t need to for now. It’ll all make sense in time. F
or now…just be here with us. Find your peace. What troubles you?”
“We are all your friends here…your sisters, dear Ava,” another woman spoke. She wasn’t as aged as the silver haired matron, but older than I—maybe around late thirties, with dark blonde hair, and a silver cord tied around her forehead, and a single blue jewel hanging from it. She was dressed in the same white attire, the front slit down nearly to her navel, but the folds of fabric contained her small chest; her curvy hips swaying gently as she walked. That’s when I noticed all the women were of different skin colors, shapes, and sizes. Some were tall and willowy. Others average, and heavier set. Some considerably more filled out than others, but no one was ashamed. Everyone was beautiful here—and they truly were. Not one fold of skin, not one thin or thick thigh was out of place: a true celebration of womanhood. But the woman who stood before me…
“I know you…”
“You know all of us, but some of us are directly related to you,” the silver haired matron said. “I am Igraine, the matron of this island until you’re ready to join us.”
“Join you?” I blinked. “Wait—Igraine. She was—”
“The mother of Morgaine Le Fey, yes. That makes me your grandmother, dearest one,” she said, her face full of emotion.
“My…” I stammered.
“I am Morgause, Morgaine’s sister. We’ve been basically in suspended time, until the power of the isle was imbued into you,” Morgause said. “We’re here to help you, whenever we can.”
I wanted to question them both, but a nagging feeling at my brain told me I didn’t have much time. “How is this possible?”
“That’s for another time. What troubles you? Matters of the heart, dear one?” Igraine—my grandmother questioned solemnly.
I exhaled deeply. “You could say that…”
“Morgaine placed evil words there, didn’t she?” Morgause reached, and tapped at my temple, shaking her head and clicking her tongue.
I hung my head but nodded. “Yes.”
“They’re not true. Not true at all.” Igraine said.
“No. But you’ll need time to realize that on your own. More time than we have here to convince you. Just know, dear Ava…we’re all here with a purpose. Even when we don’t understand right away. Just because it seems convenient that you and your men are put together, you must trust the fates…there is a reason.” Morgause said.
“You were made for each other, dear Ava,” Igraine gently reached for my hand, clasping in between hers, looking upon me with great affection. The feeling warmed me inside. “There is no greater power than love in all the worlds, Ava.”
“But—four men? They’re…well they’re part demon! Aren’t they?” I asked uncertainly.
“A demon isn’t necessarily bad,” another woman piped up; the same woman carrying the tiny infant. “Just as an angel isn’t good; it’s all in their choice.”
“My father says that if we…umm…” I said, blushing.
Morgause grinned widely. “Ava, there is no shame in laying with a man—or any number of men—as long as it’s something you all want.”
“It’s no secret that Avalon’s power is deeply sexual in nature; it’s the life force that binds us all. Where you come from, it’s sometimes frowned upon. Here? It’s healing, and safe. Love brings about life, and happiness. Just…go with it if you can.”
“When you feel comfortable,” Morgaine finished, and she and Igraine nodded.
“All your past experiences are just that, the past. Those men weren’t for you,” Igraine said.
“What about all this power though? Will I hurt them with it? Will I hurt anyone? How can I be rid of it, and go back to normal?” I asked, firing off a bunch of questions I suddenly realized I had.
“Your heart is true, and good. Therefore, you cannot possibly hurt anyone.”
“But…” I said, frowning deeply, “I hurt Xander.”
“Dear Ava…” Morgause reached for my other hand. “The only thing about your dear gentleman that is hurting is his heart.”
I pressed my lips shut, her words straight through my chest to my soul. “I don’t know…”
“Enough self-doubt, Ava. Join us by the fire, cast your worries into the flames and dance with us until it’s your time to leave. You’ll find it very soothing, I think,” Igraine said, pulling me gently across the clearing to the fire. Morgause nodded at the drummer, I noticed she was a tall vision of ebony; deep black eyes and thick, course curls atop her head. Her full lips smiled at me widely, and she nodded, winking at me. “You’re always welcome with us, sister,” she said.
I smiled in appreciation, as she began tapping on the drum once more. The very drum I heard in my mind before. I grinned wider. “Thanks for your music in my head,” I said, pointing to my forehead. “It helped.”
“That’s why we’re here, sister Ava,” she said, with a brilliant smile, as she bowed her head in reverence. Her deference made me feel…not boastful…but…confident? And less afraid now, of Avalon, and less terrified in general. While I was here, anyway.
“Will I see you again?” I asked suddenly, as Morgause began swaying our linked arms back and forth to the music.
“When the time is right, you’ll be here with us whenever, dearest one. Until then we are always…here.” Igraine placed a soft hand directly over my heart.
“You may call upon us in your time of need; we will hear your voice on the wind. Avalon is yours to call upon when you need it. Need us. Just trust that it will give you exactly what you need…” Morgause said with solemnity.
I nodded slowly.
“You’re one of us; you’re a witch of Avalon. We’ll always be here.”
“Dance, Ava!” One of the other women, a short, plump brunette with a wide smile, and rosy cheeks. Giggling, she grabbed my arm and spun me around swiftly.
I giggled happily in turn and began to dance with her in time to the music. Pretty soon, all of us spun gaily in time to the music.
Igraine began to sing; her voice was magical, and even though I didn’t know the lyrics, I managed to sing along with her as we spun in time to the music…until eventually the vision ceased, and everything returned to black.
Chapter Nineteen
“Ava?” A sleepy male voice brought me out of my dream.
I slowly peeled open my eyes, glancing around in confusion as a rough cheek nuzzled mine, and placed a soft kiss at my temple. “Are you okay?” He asked.
I blinked a couple of times gaining my bearings. It was dark, but easy flashes of light flickered nearby. I craned my head upward, noticing a window nearby. Last I recalled I was laying down in the basement studio, sobbing in Sierra’s fur; a pile of hair and puppy surrounding me.
“The hell?” I asked, groaning at the crick in my neck.
“You’re in the back bedroom; I didn’t want to bring you upstairs in case the storm worsened,” a deep, baritone voice crooned huskily. Xander.
I spun around, first noticing the blue and white décor around us, and then his handsome face next to me. “Xan? Are you—” I asked quickly, my hands roving over his bare chest and stomach, searching for any injury.
“I’m fine Ava…fine. I’ll be fine.” He insisted, as my hand lingered over his well-defined chest. I enjoyed the way chest felt under my fingers; chiseled and molded like a smooth sculpture.
I grinned shyly at him. “I’m so sorry.”
He lifted a hand and placed a finger on my lips. “No. Don’t be sorry. I’ve had worse, and I’ll be just fine. But are you okay?”
I flinched in confusion. “Why would I not be okay?” A low rumble of thunder called out, causing us both to startle gently.
“You were…somewhere else. Singing, just now. In some strange language I’ve never heard before,” he said. “And you…well…” He reached out a hand, his fingertips gently caressing the bare skin of my chest and trailed down lightly along the side of my heavy breast, before circling my soft, pink nipple that was perked from the draf
t in the room. “Somehow you lost your top. I didn’t do that, I promise. But I’m not complaining,” he added with a throaty whisper.
I glanced down, with a chuckle, noticing that indeed my tank top was missing. I had no idea how that happened, but I suddenly didn’t mind the feel of Xander’s warm touch on my bare skin. His touch meant that he was here, and the fact that he was smiling and gazing at me lustfully with an intense gaze meant that he was okay. I hoped, anyway.
“That’s weird,” I said, my eyes fluttering shut as he gently kneaded the soft mound; it felt heavenly and sent pangs of heat straight to my center. I sucked in a breath and collapsed back onto the pillow, craving more of his touch, but knowing it was probably a bad idea. I almost didn’t care though, but images of the look on Xander’s face when I slammed him with my magic would haunt me forever.
Disappointingly, Xander chuckled and released me. “Sorry, probably not wise to taunt the viper, huh?”
My mouth dropped open in mock offense. “Did you just call me a snake?”
He laughed. “No, just a temptress.”
I raised a brow. “Fine then. No show for you.” I reached down, hunting for the comforter. Gripping the edge, I pulled it up, tucking it under my armpits defiantly.
Xander chuckled. “Fair enough.” He grabbed his own corner, and regrettably covered his bare chest, leaving only a hint of the Chinese character on his shoulder.
I reached out, and curiously fingered the outline. “What does this mean, anyway?” Brushing the comforter aside to get a better look. “It’s quite complicated.”
“Perseverance,” he said, and I raised my brow.
“That much for that one word?”
He chuckled, grinning widely. “Yup.”
“It’s pretty,” I insisted.
“Thanks. It’s a beautiful language. You should learn some time,” he said with a wink. “That way you can understand when I call the guys assholes.”