My Midnight Moonlight Valentine (My Midnight Moonlight Valentine 1)

“But it was not a norma

l day,” Rhea whispered with an intense frown on her lips. “It was Theseus’s birthday. On all of your birthdays, I demand you call one another, no matter what happens. I feel as though I called, but I cannot remember what was said. I can barely remember...that is unlike me.”

They were all quiet as they all tried to remember.

“Exactly.” Sigbjørn voice was stern and his accent more severe as he spoke. “Details are gone from your memories. Like pages blacked out. Now there is just a general feeling for days and events that should be important. Last year especially; it is as if that whole year went by, and nothing of importance happened. What is one year for us who have eternity? Many years do go by as such. However last year was no ordinary year if it was the year of rebirth for our newest daughter.” His eyes fell on me. “But our past histories are not as severely effected as yours, my dear child. Your mind and how you came to be make no sense to me.”

“What do you mean? Most of my mortal life I remember as normal?” I thought back to everything that ever happened to me. It didn’t make sense to me.

“Yes, however, but far too normal to be truly normal,” he replied, and I could feel him in my head again. “From what I see, your mortal life was simple and smooth. I have lived thousands of years, and never have I seen a life so devoid of feeling. You lost your mother at birth, and yet you lived on fine. You made friends, you went to school, and you were distant from your father. He died, and you did not cry. You packed up his stuff, and you lived fine. You went to university, you attempted to connect with others, but it was rare and cold. Then you got a job, and that was fine. Nowhere in your memories can I see deep wounds or ties to anyone, things that fundamentally shape who you are as a person. In fact, your character before your rebirth is that of someone who seemed to have been drugged. It is as though your memories are a story meant only to give you a history to tell others.”

I thought about that for a moment before shaking my head, not willing to accept it. “That is not completely true. I have many people in my mortal memory that I care about.”

“Like?”

“I cared about my parents, obviously.”

“And how did you feel when they died,” he asked.

“Sad.” How else was I supposed to feel? And lonely, I suppose.”

“Atarah,” his gaze drifted to her. “When they took your mother to the gas chambers, how did you feel?”

She froze, her whole body stiffened; her eyes widened and began to blur with tears.

“Forgive me,” he said to her, “for using your pain as such; however, the rest of us are much further removed from our mortal parents, so I could not make the same point.”

She nodded, and Arsiein took her hand, but she gave all her attention to me. “When my mother died, it nearly broke me, even though I wasn’t her favorite daughter. She was still my mother. I couldn’t cry in front of the soldiers, so I did to myself as quietly as I could until I blacked out from exhaustion.”

“I am so sorry; that must have been horrible,” I whispered. I couldn’t even imagine the pain she’d been through. There was only one context for gas chambers, and it was not a good one. I really wished he hadn’t put her on the spot like that.

“There is no spot, as you call it.” He read my mind. “We are family. We share our horrors and our pain, just as our joy and triumph. At least, we try.”

“I understand.” Well not completely but still. “However, it’s different for me. My mother died when I was born. Of course, I didn’t have as much of an emotional connection to her.”

“And your father?” Theseus whispered beside me.

I looked into his eyes for a moment before struggling. “That was different.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” I frowned, rubbing the side of my head. “I’m sorry; this is just all...What exactly are you saying is wrong with me? How does this connect to Hinrik seeing a thread? Or Theseus. I feel like I get ten more questions for every answer.”

“You need not apologize,” Sigbjørn replied. “I shall put it simply. Every one of us shares a common connection to this mystery now, and it is you, Druella. Something has happened that none of us remember. On top of which, we are protected by something, but even you do not remember that. Because you, like the rest of the Omeron witches, are bound.”

“She was an Omeron,” Theseus repeated slowly, nodding as he followed what his father was saying. “Taelon spoke about how the Omeron witches were attacked last year. That their most powerful witches were bound, spell books burned. It was chaos, and yet neither the witches nor the Swan family knows who did it. If Duella is an Omeron witch, powerful enough to still have her magic, then same would have been done to her.”

“Hench the witch in a straitjacket in her mind.” Melora nodded. “It is her magic that is bound, and she is not able to undo the spell.”

“That still doesn’t explain why she would use witchcraft on us though,” Atarah added.

However, Arsiein looked between Theseus and me.

“That is what I think,” Sigbjørn stated, causing us to look him. But he just nodded to Arsiein to speak.

“What does Father think?” Ulrik questioned, impatiently.

“If someone is attacking one of our mates or family, our instinct is to defend them. If Druella were being attacked with the rest of her coven, Theseus would have intervened; thus, we would have all be there to support him against this enemy. If Druella cared enough about Theseus and his family, she’d try to protect us while we were also trying to protect her. It is like an ouroboros. They attack Druella, Theseus protects her, we protect him, she protects us and so on and on.”