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"Who are you?" she asked, uncertainty lacing her words. "Why did they want you so badly?"
The questions hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. I wanted to scream until my throat was raw, to tell her everything: how I had been cursed, how my life had been ripped away from me... and most importantly, that she was my Tsigo. Shifters waited their entire lives to find their soulmate, and I'd found mine, but I couldn't do anything to claim her, or even talk to her.
But all I could do was silently gaze into her eyes, pleading for understanding, for rescue.
"Please," she murmured, her fingers tracing the rim of my bottle. "I can help you, if you just tell me what's going on."
One word... say one goddamn word, but nothing came out. My entire being screamed for release, to take her into my arms and protect her from the dangers that would undoubtedly come our way. But all I could do was watch as she waited for a response that wouldn't come.
"Whoever you are," she whispered to me, her voice a mixture of determination and vulnerability. "There's something that draws me to you. It doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. Men just don't turn into champagne bottles."
As my heart filled with a mixture of longing and despair, I couldn't help but wonder if fate was laughing at our cruel circumstances.
"Is there anything you can do to communicate?" she asked gently, her eyes never leaving me.
If only I could speak, reach out to her with more than just the desperate gaze of a trapped animal. I willed every ounce of my strength into forming words, thoughts, anything...but to no avail. Frustration clawed at me, leaving me feeling helpless and defeated.
Of course only I would find my fated mate as I was trapped by the council's cruel power. Not only could I not protect either of us, I couldn't even answer her questions. How long could I stay stuck like this?
Chapter Two
ONE YEAR LATER
How could the council spell last this long? This fate they'd left me to was far crueler than anything they'd intended. An entire fucking year, trapped as a bottle, unable to move or talk as my Tsigo toted me around like a prized possession.
Tess, my amazing mate, had told me her name one night. Now she sat in a chair in her living room, holding me as she stared at me. "Why have you consumed my life so completely?"
As Tess took another swig from her glass of wine, her gaze narrowed on me. "I can't even date. My life is in shambles because my best friend is a fucking bottle. Just the thought of leaving you behind leaves me with paralyzing anxiety that those men will find you. It doesn't make sense. All I ever do is obsess over this damn bottle."
I wanted more than anything to tell her why she felt that way. Even as a human, she'd feel the mating call. It grew stronger the longer we were together without claiming each other. The need to be together would only grow the longer we were together. This was utter hell. For me and for her.
Tess stared into the dancing flames of the fireplace as her eyes unfocused. "Damn you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the crackling fire. "Why can't I leave you alone?"
Her hands trembled slightly as she grasped the bottle tighter. "Please," she pleaded, her voice breaking as she clutched me to her chest. "Just tell me what you want from me. Why did you barge into my life and ask me for help?"
Suddenly, the flickering flames cast an eerie glow on my glass surface, and Tess's eyes widened. A spark of hope seemed to ignite within her. "What if..." she whispered, seemingly afraid to give voice to the thought that had been growing inside her. "What if you're... a genie?"
The absurdity of the idea would have made me laugh if I could. But the desperate glimmer in her eyes made it clear this was her last shred of hope, and I couldn't help but feel for her. The last year had been hard on her, with all her questions and no answers.
"Alright," Tess murmured, her voice trembling with fear and excitement. "There's only one way to find out."
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting from my smooth surface to the fire and back again. Finally, as though gathering every ounce of courage she possessed, she moved her hands and rubbed the bottle gently, her touch lingering as if she hoped to coax some magick forth.
"Please," she whispered, her breath hitching as she waited for me to burst from the bottle. "Let something magical happen. I can't be crazy. I know you're in there... You were real, I saw you."
I couldn't stand seeing her like this, questioning her sanity and grappling with the impossible reality that had unfolded before her. If only I could reassure her, let her know she wasn't crazy... Finally, the spell loosened its grip on my voice, and I broke the silence. Despite the many times I'd tried to speak to her, for once my voice projected.
"Tess, you're not insane," I murmured, my voice resonating from within the bottle. "When you rubbed the bottle, it felt... incredible. I've had that itch for almost a year now."
"Wh-what? Did you just...?" Tess stammered, her eyes wide and her face flushed with excitement and disbelief.
"Yes," I confirmed, struggling to project my voice through the council's spell that must be degrading. "You didn't imagine it. You're not losing your mind."
Her chest heaved as she processed this revelation, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. She was a human, thrust into a world of shifters and curses she knew nothing about. And yet, despite her fear and confusion, I could sense her determination, her innate resilience. She would be a force to be reckoned with once I got out of my prison.
"Thank you," she whispered, relief flooding her features. "I don't understand all of this, but knowing I'm not alone... It means everything."
"I've wanted to talk to you for so long."
