Page 5 of Anywhere

The Adairs, McGregors, Kellys, McCabes, and Mckinnons had come together to ensure that our power structure didn’t weaken and might have stolen a few of the initial smaller lands many moons ago. But no one knew for sure, and the dead didn’t willingly share their secrets.

I was supposed to be the one. I was supposed to be the power head. It was what I’d studied and trained for all my life. I would’ve taken our family into the next hundred years in a power position that no one would dare challenge. I always figured I would be paired and chosen, and a part of me longed to help rule. But it also meant that I had to give up the one person I’d been in love with for as long as I could remember.

My mind drifted to Mari and her smile that could light up a room. I’d buried myself in work, parties, and women to stop thinking about the one thing I could never have, and none of it worked more than a blink.

My fist hit the stone of the castle wall, and I looked at the silver rings and blood trickling down my knuckle. Bringing the fist to my mouth, I licked the blood off, moaning as the metallic taste hit the back of my throat.

“I’m gettin' fucked,” I growled, then jumped into my car, putting the guitar on the passenger seat. Thinking better of it, I pulled on the seatbelt and wrapped it around my Tabitha. The small sports car revved, and the tires squealed as I peeled out of my home. Well, the only home I could remember clearly.

My hand smacked against the steering wheel, and I could feel the power rise in my chest as smoke rose around me in the car like I was hotboxing it. Taking a deep breath, I pushed down on the power that was close to raging out of control.

A McGregor as a two? I couldn’t even wrap my brain around something so absurd. In all the triads that had been formed between the five families, a McGregor was always the one and the pinnacle of power. We were rarely paired with an Adair because, like the McGregors, they held the deadliest of abilities and were always number one. I think there was only one pairing in the family tree that I’d seen that was with a McGregor and an Adair, and no one knows how the union would’ve turned out since they killed each other before they ever reached their union night. It didn’t exactly make my stomach all fluttery over the idea of being paired with an Adair, to begin with, but then to be demoted….

Not only that but this one, this Rook—what a fucking stupid name that was—looked like a knob. Stupid shaggy hair and black jeans with ripped shirts. Why would the spirits think I’d be interested in that?

I cracked my neck and wheeled the car into the Up Er Kilt Pub’s gravel lot. There were already a few horses and buggies tied up outside while their owners had a bevvy. This was my spot, my safe haven from the bull crap. I sat there staring up at the sign, and for the first time, I didn’t want to go back to the castle. Not tonight, not ever. I’d been in that wing since I was six. Now I was displaced and forced to start the next step of my triad with a man who had no interest in the family, the business, or, fuck, any of us. He’d made it very clear in his response to the family that he was happy to reject the union. His father had other ideas and forced him to come.

I walked into the ceremonial chamber I’d faithfully come to every three months since I turned thirteen. For me, these old stone walls were like a second home. Few felt as comfortable down here as I did. I had no blood family who wanted anything to do with me left. My only family’s ashes sat in the decorative jars among the shelves and would sometimes be seen during the rituals. It gave me comfort to know that my parents were still around, even if it wasn’t all the time.

“Oommmmm.” Gregory started to key everyone into the chant.

My voice joined with ten others who’d come to the ritual tonight. I could clearly hear Caleb and Lincoln over the others and smirked, knowing that their competitive sides would push the other to be the loudest in the room.

The energy began to swirl. It felt different tonight, like it was supercharged. The hair on the back of my neck stood as my robes billowed around like I was caught in a windstorm. Lifting my head slightly from the cover of the oversized hood, I glanced to either side to see if everyone was being affected so strongly, but their robes stayed quiet. A stream of cool air swirled around my neck, and my snake suddenly pulled free from the confines of the tattoo on my body. It slithered down the arm of the robe, then back up, so it lay across my neck.

“Rhys McGregor, you have been chosen. Please step forward,” Nigel said, but his voice was filled with a spirit from the other side.

My heart pounded hard as I took a step toward the dais. This was it! The day that I had prepared for. I’d longed for it as much as I’d secretly feared and hoped it would never happen. It didn’t matter what I wanted, though. The spirits had made their decision about my fate. One nervous step at a time, I placed my foot on the top of the platform and knelt in front of the speaker.

“Rhys McGregor, you have been chosen. Do you accept this pairing?”

I swallowed hard, knowing that I had to say yes, and yet my tongue was heavy in my mouth. “Aye. I accept the pairing.”

The small candles placed around the pentagram on the floor rose into tall columns of billowing fire. An invisible force that felt like hands reached out and wrapped itself around my throat. I gasped and coughed, but I knelt firm for the test and forced myself to remain calm. I was suddenly let go, and the fires returned to normal, but my snake remained dormant on my neck. I knew something was wrong before the words were spoken. Our snake was supposed to create a blood offering from the pumping blood of our heart when a pairing was accepted and sealed from both ends. My snake’s dormant status screamed that I’d been rejected.

“Rhys McGregor, your pairing is Rook Adair, but he has rejected the union. This possible union will remain in effect for three ritual cycles but no more. Another pairing may or may not be made for you in the future.”

Nigel fell to the floor as the spirit left his body. I remained kneeling as the shock of the words but also the pain of the rejection began to seep into my body. He rejected me?

“Ah, better luck next time, Rhys. If it’s any consolation, I never thought Rook would settle down anyway,” Caleb said, laying a hand on my shoulder as he left me to process.

I stood, humiliated by what had just happened and all the words of sympathy and “better luck next time.” The shame that I’d just brought upon me, but also my family, was almost unbearable. To be rejected was the highest form of humiliation in a triad other than one of your union partners stepping outside of the relationship once the ceremony had taken place.

The books had said that a rejection came with pain, but I didn’t understand what they meant until that night. Fiery pain woke me from an already fitful sleep. I clutched at my chest, not sure if I was having a heart attack. As the pain increased, a sweat broke out on my forehead. I tried to call out for Illiam, Liam, or even Gregory, but my voice stalled in my throat, and no words would come out of my gaping mouth.

Rolling out of bed, I landed on the hard floor and tried to take a deep breath, but with every breath came a lance of pain, like someone was stabbing me with a sharp blade. I needed to get help.

Crawling for my door, I only made it about halfway when the blistering pain increased to levels that had me seeing stars and my mouth hanging open in a silent scream. I flopped onto my back and clawed at the stone floor as I fought off an attack I couldn’t see and didn’t understand.

“Ahhh!” A scream finally left my lips as my back arched off the ground.

The torment only got stronger and morphed, spreading all along my body. If it weren’t for the fact that my eyes could still see, I would’ve sworn that my muscles and bones were being pulled from my body one at a time. It finally became too much, and I blacked out, only to be woken up by the same sensation all over again, but this time, I knew. I knew then that this was to do with my rejection or, more importantly, what Rook was doing now.

I’d read the books. I’d seen the words, and yet, no words in any language could describe this feeling. When a pairing was started, no matter the stage, unmeasurable pain was felt by the party that held hope for the union. If you’d agreed and the other hadn’t…then you felt like you were drowning in an ocean of agony that relented briefly only to start again. I was the one Rook didn’t want while he bedded another and another with no regard for the anguish he was putting me through. I hated him.

A final punishment, a kick in the teeth to show you exactly how much you were never wanted. I screamed as it felt like my heart was ripped from my chest. At some point, the spirits cared enough to let me pass out once more.

“Fuck,” I swore and yelled as I shook the steering wheel. I finally forced myself to let go before I tore it off the car. It had taken days to figure out the combination of drugs that would help numb the sensation just enough that I could function. I hated the fact that I had to take anything at all. If Rook thought that after almost a fucking month of betrayal, I would forgive him and accept him, then he had another think coming.