Prologue
Moonlight streamed through the open window, illuminating her portrait. Dark hair pouring over pale shoulders, vibrant green eyes seeming to light up the entire room, a smile on an innocent face. Morgana Le Fae. The tiny script in the corner of the portrait spoke her name, echoing in my mind until I thought it would drive me mad. How I’d lasted a thousand years without her was a miracle I didn’t want to ponder over. I truly didn’t want to think about all the years I’d spent alone, drowning in the misery her death had brought. And yet I did think about it. With every day that passed, I thought about the woman that held the other half of my soul, about the day she’d left me behind. She was a memory that never truly went away and I was dying on the inside because I knew I’d spend eternity without her. An eternity spent without her gentle voice, or the feel of her satin-like skin against my own was a curse. A curse I would bear with weakened shoulders and a shattered heart.
She had betrayed us all, Morgana had. As she was in the legends, she’d been evil in the end. And yet, she hadn’t started out that way. In the beginning, she’d been every bit as pure of heart as Arthur himself had been. My eyes sought out her portrait again, staring along the lines of the face I knew so well. She had been beautiful, so utterly breathtaking in every way. Body, mind, soul. No one knew why she’d turned on us, why she’d led her own brother to his death at Mordred’s blade. None of us knew why she’d laughed at the sight of Arthur’s cold body sprawled, powerful even in death. But she had. The sound of her laughter rang in my ears, cold and callous and so cruel that it hurt. ‘Morgana. My Morgana. Why have you done this?’ I’d screamed at her. She’d only laughed as Merlin had killed her, striking her down with every ounce of magic he had.
The legends tell of Morgana but they don’t tell you what she was like before she’d turned against us, against me. Those legends don’t tell you that she loved wine. There isn’t a single mention of the fact that she hated most meat and loved fruit. All types of fruit but bananas were her favorite. She was beautiful but she was so much more than that. She had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met and wit to bring even the strongest of men to his knees. Morgana was sarcastic and sometimes rude yet she was the nicest person I’d ever met. The legends don’t tell you about the side of Morgana that was what I fell in love with. They tell you only that she was evil. And, in the end, she was. But in the beginning? In the beginning she’d been everything but. And that’s the Morgana I chose to remember. I chose the Morgana who stood tall in the face of hatred, the Morgana who stood up for me and loved me beyond anything else. I chose to remember Morgana as she had been before Mordred.
Mordred. The name brings hatred to my throat. The knight, Arthur’s most treasured, had been the downfall of us all. Though Destiny had once said we were supposed to rule in harmony for many years, Mordred changed it. He changed destiny itself. Molded and twisted it into something cruel and broken. He’d taken Morgana, the lovely and bright woman I loved, and molded her into the dark and hateful woman she’d become. Mordred was the one I blamed for Arthur’s death. Though part of me also blamed Morgana, I knew she would not have done it had Mordred not coerced her into it. He’d been jealous of Arthur and his jealousy had broken apart an entire nation. It was Mordred I’d kill if ever I saw him again. Like Merlin and I, he was Immortal. He’d fled not long after Arthur and Morgana’s deaths, knowing that if he were found he would have his head chopped off.
I loved her still. Even though she’d killed my brother’s soul mate, I loved her. Loved the woman with the vibrant green eyes and the brave soul. Loved the woman with the cruel laugh and the cold eyes. Love. Such a simple word...and yet it was pain. Love was pain. It was watching the light in their eyes die as you held them close. I remembered the way I’d dropped to my knees as the life drained from Morgana, clutching her body close and begging her to come back to me. She’d smiled, her eyes whispering apologies. Morgana had been a proud woman, never allowing herself to show weakness. And, to her, apologies were weaknesses. She’d apologized only once in her entire life and that was as she died. Her last words, whispered through dying breaths, had been an apology. What had she been apologizing for? For Arthur’s death? For turning her back on me? I wondered endlessly what she’d been apologizing for and yet there would never be an answer. My Morgana was dead. Killed at the hands of my own brother. And I could not hate him for it because Morgana had deserved it. She’d deserved the death she got...even if my heart believed differently.
It wasn’t a quiet night, not by any means. Wolves howled in the distance, thunder rocked the sky, rain pounded against the windows. I felt like I was locked away in silence, though. Without her voice to break the quiet in my head, I felt like the entire world had gone silent. Still, as I stood there staring at the portrait of the woman I loved, I could almost hear her voice. Gentle and quiet as it had always been, I could almost hear her voice whispering her love for me and it nearly drove me mad. Would this never hurt? Would losing her never feel like a million knives piercing my soul? I dropped to my knees, feeling my heart constrict in my chest. A cry left my lips and I pulled myself to my feet. Hauling myself out of the manor, I stood in the rain and let it mingle with my tears. It had been a thousand years to the day and it wasn’t any easier now than it had been that very first day.
A hand touched my shoulder and I turned around to meet my brother’s gaze. Merlin stood, relaxed in the midst of the pouring rain, directly behind me. His black hair was plastered to his head and his bright blue eyes shone with concern. I smiled slightly through the tears that blurred my vision and he didn’t smile back. Merlin knew me, better than anyone ever had. He knew my moods, knew that Morgana’s loss was one I still felt in the deepest parts of me. We were twins, born fifteen minutes apart, and he’d always known me better than I’d known myself.
“You miss her.” he spoke above the clatter of the rain.
I nodded, unable to speak through the tears.
“I’m sorry. Isabelle...”
My next words were spoken in a hard voice. “You have nothing to be sorry for. She led Arthur to his death. She laughed as he died. I loved Morgana, brother. But even I knew that she deserved what you did to her. She killed your soul mate.”
Merlin pulled me into the house, using magic to dry the both of us before he spoke.
“She did not kill Arthur. Mordred did. It was Mordred’s blade that pierced Arthur’s heart. I should have acted rationally instead of as a grief crazed loon. You lost your soul mate because I could not handle my grief and for that I will never forgive myself. Morgana could have been redeemed. She could have been saved and yet I killed her.”
There was pain in my twin’s voice and I turned, pulling him into a hug. His arms surrounded me as I started to cry again. I loved Merlin but it was not his arms that I wanted around me. I wanted the long, slender arms of the dark-haired beauty I’d fallen in love with so many years ago. Tears leaked out of my closed lids and I sobbed against my twin’s shirt. Merlin would never forgive himself for killing my soul mate, he had too big a heart. But I already had. After all, no matter what he’d said, Morgana had killed his own. We were sorcerers, after all. We lived forever and loved only once. Morgana had been my once. Never again would I love. No one else would hold my heart as she had.
As if burned, Merlin jerked away from me and dropped to his knees. His hands clutched at his head, his eyes were tightly closed. A vision. This hadn’t happened in several centuries and, for a moment, I was scared. When he raised his blue eyes to mine, I saw fear and relief mingling in them and wondered what he would say. What had he seen that had brought about that fear and relief? When he spoke, his words strangled and shocked, I understood.
“They’re coming back. Morgana. Arthur. Mordred. Mordred...he’s...I’ve got to save Arthur this time.”
My heart sank. Morgana was coming back. But she’d surely be evil. She’d be off limits. If it had been possible, the very idea would have broken my heart even more. As it was, it was already shattered beyond repair. My soul mate was returning and I could not touch her. Could not love and cherish her the way my heart wanted to. Clearing my mind of the pain, I knelt next to my brother and smiled. He was getting a second chance with his own soul mate. I was happy for him, happy to have one of my best friends returned to me...but the crushing pain was still there, squeezing the pieces of my broken heart until they bled.
“Will they know who they are?”
“Morgana sent me the vision. She knows. She remembers it all. Arthur will too. Mordred will not remember at first but when he does...he will come after Arthur.”
“What about Morgana?”
“I...I could not tell. She looked the same as she always had, though. She may not be evil this time around, Belle.”
I closed my eyes, hoping that what he’d said was the truth. I wanted Morgana to be good. I wanted to love and cherish her. My heart leapt with hope but I squashed it, hoping to save myself the heartbreak I’d feel when she was inevitably evil.
Miles away, a dark haired beauty stood in the pouring rain. Morgana was silent, tears tracing tracks down her face. She’d been evil in her last life, cruel in ways that were unforgivable. No one would forgive her. No matter why she’d done it, no matter the threats Mordred had made, she would never be forgiven. She’d killed Arthur, after all. It may not have been her blade but she had led him there. She’d killed her beloved brother and she would never be forgiven. Not by Arthur and certainly not by her love.
The thought of Belle had more tears welling in her eyes. An image of a girl with long blonde hair and deep blue eyes flashed in her mind and she sighed, wanting the image to be real. She needed her soul mate, needed to feel Belle’s tight arms and warm skin. Morgana felt broken and lost without her, felt like the whole world didn’t matter because Belle wasn’t here with her. She raised her face to the sky and screamed, magic bursting from within as her voice clashed with the thunder. She wanted someone there with her, someone who knew her and loved her. But there was no one who loved the broken Morgana.