Hunter laid soft tentative kisses along her back, she rolled over to face him, his shaggy blonde hair was ruffled from sleep. A smile splayed across his face as he saw her groggily awaken, she leaned over to him and kissed him, closing her eyes she leaned back and stared into Cal's luminous eyes.
"Good morning Morgan." Cal drawled.
A shriek escaped her lips, as darkness took over her.
Sitting upright in bed Morgan glanced around her room, the lightening played against her walls. The third time in a week she had witnessed that awful dream. After six years she still couldn't shake Cal, he was everywhere she looked, an image in a puddle, when she closed her eyes she saw him laying there on the floor in Selene's office as a gasping cry escaped his lips like his ghost.
Morgan lay there watching the lightening, for hours. Unable to fall back asleep, she slowly arched her back to stretch her sore muscles, as she sat upright, her feet felt cold against the wooden floor of her bedroom. Walking to her door she grasps the familiar knob and turned it to see bright lights and noises of excitement from downstairs. Apparently her disturbance spell was stronger than she thought it had been. Groggy from the hallway lights she meandered down, pictures of relatives hung against the walls, large contrast to the stark white walls. Paintings of Rose MacEwan sat on the wall with candles set beneath it setting it with an eerie memoir of her life. Looking down she saw the Amyranth sitting together below the chandelier that hung in the dinning room, they were drinking—large quantities from the looks of it.
"Morgan, lovely to see you." Ciaran said stepping from the kitchen hold Rum.
"Father, what is going on?" I asked looking at the happily drunken men and women sitting, giggling together.
"Ah, hun, just a little celebration." He said laughing; crinkles rounded their way around his glowing eyes. So full of power, some recoil at the thought or mention of his name, but this, this was Ciaran, my father.
"What are we celebrating?" I asked moving towards the roaring fireplace for warmth; though it was always raging it never seemed to spread.
"The adults are celebrating life." Ciaran said simply, for being an all powerful evil witch, he still was as hard as a stone wall when it came to underage drinking, and other things…
"Could you be more specific?" I asked slumping down into the overstuffed cushioned sofa.
"Fine, it was supposed to be a surprise but, come along." He gestured with his hand intending for me to follow him. I got up to shuffle after him down the corridor leading into the circle room. At the door Ciaran turned to face me, his eyes glowing with anticipation the way they always did nearing the room. Ready for magick.
"I have someone to show you…" He said simply as he turned to open the dark oak door. Hanging cauldrons with fire burning in them lit the only light in the room, on the table where Morgan once lay awaiting her soul to be taken, lay someone Morgan never expected to see again…
"Hunter…" Morgan whispered looking at his battered body, and drained eyes.
Hunter looked at me, and silent tears flooded his face, he laid his head back in defeat and looked up at the ceiling.
"Hunter…? Is-is it really you?" I asked stepping forward. "Cir-Father what is he doing here?" I asked turning back to face him.
"Awaiting Tàth Meànma." He said simply. The world swirled around me.
"Tàth Meànma?" I repeated.
"Yes Morgan, he poses too much of a threat, he was found trying to find you. He can't let you go, let you go to become a legend of greatness." Ciaran explained, trying to make me see it his way.