I knew he watched me after I told him my excuse. My heart hadn't beaten; it had shaken as I'd told him. Why did he fill me with such dread? He'd just nodded once and walked away with a snarl on his face.

The evening was ending, and I knew it wouldn't be long before we'd walk to his car and he'd drive me off to his mansion. I wanted to test my powers, to make sure they were still there. I didn't understand how he could've stopped my powers. Do everyone's gods exist together? Could they? It seemed more likely that my magick was weakening. And that was bad news.

"Morgan," Mom's voice said blankly from behind me, "I've heard that you think you will not be finalising your marriage tonight," I didn't turn around to look at her, because she scared me. I was afraid for her. I didn't understand what was wrong with her, she sounded like a robot.

"You heard right," I said.

"Morgan, you must,"

"Why?"

"Because it is your duty," I stood up and faced her. We're about the same height, and I could feel my eyes etching burns into her skin.

"We're not in the freaking middle ages, Mom!" I told her. She looked surprised for a moment, then pursed her lips and looked angry. My fists clenched by my side. "What's happened to you? Who the hell are you!" She just turned and walked away again. I was so confused, even though she'd been like this for more than a month now.

"Morgan?" Bree asked tentatively from behind me.

"What, Bree?" I snapped, spinning around to look at her concerned face. The guests were beginning to leave now, and the cleaners were whipping off table cloths and bustling about with mops.

"Are you going to go home with him tonight?" she asked me.

"I don't have a choice," I said for the millionth time tonight. Bree frowned and gave me a tight hug. I pushed back tears before they even reached my eyes. There was no point. Isaac Cheldon was sat in a corner with his uncle, Stuart Afton. They seemed to be arguing fiercely about something. He turned abruptly and strode over to Bree and me.

"I think we will leave now, Morgan," he said stiffly, not bothering to look at me.

"I think Morgan's feeling sick," said Bree quickly. He looked at her as if she were a small, irritating child.

"Is she now?" he said, "I'll take care of her back at my house, Miss. Warren," I gripped Bree's hand, my stomach twisting into a terrible knot. Oh sweet goddess, oh god no! He held his hand out to me, "Morgan," he said demandingly. I shook violently, leaning on Bree for support, dread kindling my entire body. "Morgan," he spoke again. I raised my hand and placed it in his. My other hand gripped Bree's wrist.

"Morgan," she whispered pleadingly, "stay strong...and text me when you get there," she added. I gave her a quick nod and Isaac pulled me away. He clenched my wrist and walked me out of the hall and onto the freezing street. He tugged me round the block to a black Nissan. He opened my door and waiting for me to get in. Then he shut it and went round.

The strong smell of leather made my stomach reel even more. "Put your seatbelt on," he muttered, getting in the other side. He started the engine up and my heart clenched as we drove away. Now it was truly just him and me, alone in a dark car. So what if I had my period? Cheldon probably didn't care. But. He was obviously a stout Christian. I'd been to youth club, despite my dislike of it. He would know that I was 'ritually unclean' at present. I held that close to my heart, but it wasn't what I needed. I needed my power. My power at its best, soaring free, fast and vigilant against the dark night's sky, taking me away from this place.

The road rushed underneath the car, everything was so dark. Cheldon's sharp face was partially lit by the dashboard, showing his scowl and pointed eyebrows. I flicked my eyes back to the road, watching it leave me. Everything that I knew had been taken from me, starting with the end of Hunter. He'd left no note, no words for Alyce to tell me, no signs, no reason...but no blood. He would've died after he left, after I went and knocked on his door that freezing morning to find the house absent. And then from there things had just gone downhill. My sweet, protective father had had a stroke at work and died; now flipping up my whole family. Finding myself already near empty, I looked after Mary K. But my mom had just lost it. That's about all we have left in common: we both lost the loves of our lives. Then she'd found Stuart Afton's brother and she seemed to find some sort of solace in him. They married, but Mom turned into the cold ghost she is now, sending Mary K. Off to boarding school when Isaac Cheldon proposed to me. I hadn't seen Mary K. since, but I'd emailed her. I was glad she wasn't there tonight. To see me like this, so weak.

Everything was still in the car, and as my reminiscing ended, I had a brief relapse "Why did you marry me?" I asked him. It was like I was the only person to make a noise in the entire world at that moment. Cheldon glared at the road ahead.

"I believe you may be a good wife for me," he said heavily, almost like he couldn't be bothered.

"In what way?" I asked curiously. It was the first time I'd ever had a conversation with him.

"In the way a wife ought to be,"

"In what way, Mr. Cheldon?" I said stonily.

His eyes flicked to mine and I pulled back in fright. "I believe god sent you to me, so you could be taught the proper way of life as a woman."

"This is twenty-first century America," I told him quietly, hiding my disgust well, "things have changed,"

"They shouldn't have," he murmured. The air turned colder again and the road continued to flash past. Street lights ignored me. They were the only light, and they didn't stay.

We were in the countryside now. He sped up, and the fields blurred into one another. What had my life turned to? I'd had such promise, according to Alyce and Selene Belltower. An old farmhouse slipped past us. Cal...Would being with him have been worse than this? No...I was someone then. I had the strength to fight. But now I didn't. I looked up at the sky. It was cloudy, a charcoal grey. I doubted it would ever clear again. I remembered doing weather magick with Killian a few months ago. Oh how I wished I could do that now, have that sort of power again. Then I wouldn't feel so hopeless. But it was because I felt hopeless that I had no power. I was in a never ending circle now. I was lost.

Rain began to patter against the windows as I watched Morgan Rowlands commit herself to what will never rightfully be hers. Submission. There is not such an easy way out for her as there are for some people. Granted, it should be the people's choice. But how many times could the world have died if someone had just given up? Morgan Rowlands is a legend. She would find her way back to the great woman she is. Or so I hoped. Cheldon though...how I wanted to look that man in the eyes and make him question himself for once. Decisions are made, and he never goes back on them. Cheldon has never experienced regret. Some would say he was a fatalist. Others that he controls it.

Ah, how very amusing.

It was at least an hour's drive before he swerved dangerously into a turnoff. A cobbled road. It led, after about five minutes, into a grand courtyard, lit by outdoor ground lights. I held my breath as he opened my door and let me out into the pouring rain. He led me brusquely by the wrist up the steps and into the house. The hallway had a marble floor. A chandelier hung from the high ceiling, and a grand staircase took up most of the hall.

"Go to bed," he told me. "I hope you feel better in the morning." He led me up the dark cherry wood staircase. I was still in my wedding dress, I realised absently. We reached the second floor and he opened the first door on the left.

The floor to my...our – oh goddess – bedroom was a soft cream carpet. There was a vanity and an on-suite off to one side and a chest of drawers on the other. Another chandelier lit the room, and there were several original, expensive looking paintings on the walls. But it was the bed in the middle which brought more fear into my chest. The big, silk covered bed in the middle of the room, dominating my every thought. I couldn't pull this off for much longer...he'd want to know why I was still having my period five weeks from now...I'm married to him for god's sake. Oh sweet goddess...

"Your luggage is in the wardrobe," he told me.

"I didn't pack anything," I murmured.

"Well someone did," he walked out, shutting the door behind me. I looked curiously in the wardrobe. Mom had packed for me. She'd been in my room? Oh goddess; what would she have done with my alter? I zipped open one of the suitcases. There was a lot of lingerie, which was certainly not what my normal mother would've done, and then under that was one decent sized t-shirt and some sweatpants. I looked at the t-shirt closer and realised it was a rugby t-shirt...which had seen one too many washes...oh goddess. I threw myself into a corner of the room and clutched it to my chest, shaking with the pain of everything. Hunter...when I'd denied him after coming back from New York, he'd still cared for me, even though I'd been a complete jerk with Killian, and he'd helped me into this t-shirt after I'd thrown up violently in front of him and...Oh goddess!

Hunter

As I approached Widow's Vale, I found it so hard, remembering how we'd arrived back here only a few months ago, after Morgan had met Ciaran, and she'd told me at the docks that she no longer loved me. And I knew it was a lie, so did she. And I told her I loved her. I wanted to tell her again, right this minute. But I couldn't. I drove along the very street she lived on. As I approached her house, I felt my chest clench. But there were no lights on, no car parked in the driveway...when I'd just met Morgan, and she'd gone to get her car back after smashing it into Cal Blair's pool house, she was so upset at the hood being a different colour. It seemed so trivial, yet it was one of the many faucets making up my beautiful muirn beatha dan. I drove on to Bree's house, where, no doubt, she would be alone.

I knocked on the door. A minute passed before the doorknob turned and the door opened to reveal Bree Warren, Morgan's best friend. "Hunter..." she murmured, looking me up and down with a sad smile on her face. Then she frowned. I felt a sharp sting across my face.

"Ow," I muttered, before she flung her arms around me, enveloping me in a desperate hug.

"You better be back for good, or else I will kill you, damned witch or not" she told me, pulling back. She actually made me grin for a moment. "Come in, my dad's not here, as per usual,"

"Killian told me I'm meant to stay at the hotel," I told her, stepping in anyway.

"Yeah, well I'll call him; you're staying here, so is he. I want to be in on everything that's going on," she walked into the kitchen and bustled around with the kettle.

"Bree, it's not safe..." She turned on me so quickly.

"You haven't spoken to her, Hunter, you have no idea," she said to me bitterly, and then went back to the mugs. "Killian's number's on the fridge, ring him, would you?"

"Don't worry, I can just message him –"

"No, Killian said how much that took out of him. You both have to be at full strength," I shrugged and went in search of a phone. As I dialled the number, I thought of how fast Bree was doing everything. She was nervous; I could pick that up, for Morgan. We both were.

"Extension fifty-two, please," I murmured to the grumpy receptionist. Well, it was four in the morning.

"Killian speaking," I admit, hearing someone on a phone is much better than hearing them in your head. It feels like they're shoving themselves in there as well, which doesn't really fit.

"Killian, I'm at Bree's house. She wants you and me to spend the night here,"

"Oh she always was a bossy boots, that girl," grumbled Killian, probably yanking on pants. "I'll be there soon," he hung up. Bree handed me a cup of beautiful, strong American coffee. Yeah, nothing would ever beat tea, but sometimes the Americans did beat us. Sometimes.

"He's on his way," I told Bree, and we went and sat down in the lounge on opposite sofas. She sat with her knees up, sipping her coffee. We sat in silence for a moment, and I cooled my coffee a little, just like Morgan always used to do. I smiled at the memory of Phoebe exclaiming to me about how she'd cooled her tea down with her hand! Just like that!

"Reminiscing?" Asked Bree, the same sad smile on her face. I raised my eyebrows as a 'yes'. "I do that as well sometimes," she murmured. She took a deep sip, her expression was grey. "She never really went back to the way she used to be after you left...she's been empty, Hunter, she doesn't use her magick anymore,"

"What? Why not?" I asked alertly.

"Too many memories, she told me, of you, of the sort of magick you showed her, the beauty of it all," Bree sighed, "it didn't seem right for her,"

"Is she at his house?" I asked. Bree nodded cautiously.

"Don't worry, nothing's going to happen...not tonight, at least," I raised my eyebrows, but she didn't expand. I wanted to get back in my car and go to her, save her, but at least I was partially in control.

"So why did she agree to marry Hadrian?" It took a second before the name clicked into place for Bree, and she shivered.

"Her father died," she told me, "and her mum got into a relationship with Stuart Afton's brother, remember Afton?" I gave an involuntary smile, slipping back to the time when she was still working out whether or not to hate me. "Wakey wakey Hunter!" she said with a little smile, then turned solemn again, "anyway, Isaac Cheldon is Afton's nephew, and that's how Mrs. Rowlands met him. I don't know what an earth happened," she said, frustrated, "he just sort of charmed her into giving him Morgan..."

"He would've used magick," I said, "scheming bastard,"

"Yeah, and so much more," Bree muttered, glaring at the coffee table, "anyway, Mrs. Rowlands – Mrs. Afton, I s'pose – managed to get Morgan to meet with him. She told her that he would offer her money and peace and quiet from the world. Morgan met him, and, granted, he was quite the charmer," I clenched my fist, "don't worry, Hunter, Morgan didn't go for it one bit. In fact, she called him a scheming bastard," I let out a bark of laughter. That was my Morgan, "but then Mrs. Rowlands got really ill and the treatment was extremely expensive. Her new husband went bankrupt a week beforehand, and Mrs. Rowland's only suggestion was for Morgan to marry Cheldon to get the money," sounds very familiar... "And so Morgan accepted his proposal. Her mum got better a week before the wedding, no treatment, nothing,"

"Why didn't Morgan pull out?"

"I don't know...she told me that she didn't want her mother to fall ill again and be in the same situation, but I think it was because she'd just resigned herself to the fact that that was what was happening. She didn't want anything else to go adrift; she just wanted to sit on the course she was set on,"

"Oh Morgan..." I whispered. There was a quick rap on the door, and Bree stood up to get it. "No," I said quickly, "I'll get it," I didn't sense any dark magick, but then, I wasn't sensing much at present, not with my mind overloaded, now more with guilt than ever.

I opened the door and there was Killian, looking as if he'd had no sleep at all. "Niall," he acknowledged, pushing his fingers through his hair.

"Killian," I let him in and shut the door behind him. Bree was back in the kitchen making more coffee. Thank the Goddess.

"Hey Bree," said Killian. She gave him a hug.

"Why doesn't he get a slap?" I asked. Bree laughed. But Killian raised an eyebrow.

"You slapped him? Good, my turn." He turned on me. I tensed. He was my height, but I was bigger than him in the muscle area...but then I deserved it, not that it would ever fully reconsolidate for my leaving.

"Gentlemen," said Bree, stepping in between us a thrusting a cup of coffee into Killian's hand, "not now,"

"But don't you want to –?"

"Of course I do, Killian, but not now, later..." she gave me an analysing look, "when he's least expecting it," I rubbed the back of my neck...ohhh dear... "come on, let's sit down. You haven't heard all of this either, Killian,"

We once again sat down in the lounge, now Killian sprawling over Bree's original seat and Bree sitting on the floor, leaning against the heater. "Right, so she was alright...in theory...about marrying Cheldon, but then came the wedding day,"

"God it was only yesterday..." muttered Killian.

"Morgan had a little wakeup call and realised she didn't want to do this, but it was too late. Everything was arranged,"

"Oh goddess, what have I done?" I groaned, pain in my chest.

"She loved you, Hunter, she really did,"

"Loved me? I guess I don't deserve reprieve for leaving her as I did..." I said quietly.

Bree shook her head slightly; "Hunter, she thinks you're dead," I frowned. Then sat up straighter.

"What?" I asked.

"You left with no word, no letter, no message, no evident reason, what was she to think?" Bree looked at me earnestly. "Hunter, why did you leave?"

"Mmm, yes, Hunter" drawled Killian "do tell,"