Page 13 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
I stepped forward, bracing myself for a physical altercation between the two men. I should’ve known Monster better than that though: he didn’t care enough about me, Argent, or old memories to fly off the handle into a blind rage. Instead, he redirected his gaze from my husband to me.
My voice caught in my throat, but I forced the words past my lips.
“What, exactly, is going on here?” I asked, my tone commanding. I hadn’t seen this man since I’d started dating Argent. Nope, I’d left Monster and never looked back. So what the hex could he possibly want from me now?
When he didn’t answer right away, I gave into my exhaustion and took a seat in a chair that I think had once been another demon of some sort. It had four clawed feet, and horns on the back. As disturbing as that was, I was too tired to think much about it. Happened all the time in Hael. Down here, murder begat trophies, not jail time.
Leaning back in my seat, I closed my eyes and kicked my feet up on the leather ottoman. I could feel the warmth of the fire in the soles of my feet, and the ice-cold chill in my bones from our brief battle with the witch eaters. Despite the cozy, warm, atmosphere of Monster’s place, I wasn’t going to forget that I’d almost drowned, that I’d almost had my ankle smashed to a pulp, that I’d almost died. Or that I was running seriously low on charms. That, and I’d just bared witness to a literal army marching on us.
Caine didn’t bother to take a seat, instead choosing to stand behind my chair like a bodyguard. I didn’t mind; it made me feel safer, having the werewolf at my back. Spectre sat down on the ottoman next to my feet, pulling them into his lap and taking off my boots. When he began to rub my feet, I let out an involuntary groan that, upon opening my eyes and flicking my gaze toward Monster, the demon asshole seemed to like way, way too much.
“And when you do finally explain,” Spec said stiffly, “can you start off by telling us how you ended up with that bitch Violet, stalking us in the gods-damned woods?”
Monster stood there and stared at me for a long, long moment. Sure, I’d always been an ornery witch, but the girl he’d known had been desperate for approval, affection, companionship. Yes, I’d allowed him to drug me with the magic in his skin, but that didn’t change the fact that who I’d been back then was nothing like who I was now. I’d grown into myself, and for the first time in my entire life, I actually felt like an adult. Well, scratch that. I was still waiting for that magic moment when it would click in my brain that I was all grown-up, but I think after thirty, you can no longer deny that you are, indeed, a grown-ass woman. Whether you’d like to be or not.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Everen Sinnes.” The edge of Monster’s beautiful, full lips tweaked up into a smile. He dipped a rag into the small cauldron that was sitting atop the wood stove and began to slowly and sensually clean the blood off of his bare abs, running it down to his very low-slung trousers with their armored plating. With the flames roaring in the fireplace, the temperature in the cave was rising rapidly, creating tiny beads of sweat that ran down the sides of the man’s muscular neck.
Goddess’ tits. I forced myself to look anywhere else. It would take a few days of zero contact to get over the effects of Monster’s aphrodisiac. The more I exposed myself to it, the longer that process would take, and the harder it would be. When I’d left him so many years ago, it’d taken months.
“Waiting for Grace, huh?” Spectre asked, flashing enough teeth that I could see that he was still upset. He rubbed his thumb hard against the arch of my foot, and I bit my lower lip. Damn, that feels good. “You mean stalking Grace from afar until she inevitably got sent to Hael?”
“But this isn’t the first time you been here, suge,” Caine said, crossing his muscular arms on the back of the chair and leaning over it. His natural musk and pine scent wafted around me, reminding me of earth and growing things. Werewolves were one of the few Numinous—non-human, non-animal species of the world—that were native to earth. And that scent, while trapped down here in the bowels of Hael, was like a healing balm to my witchy senses.
Believe it or not, I’d actually based a magical bath bomb on Caine’s scent. The spell in it was minor, just a charm to relax the muscles and calm the mind, but the mix of herbs and oils to get that smell just right took forever. I’d made forty bath bombs, titled them Werewolf Love Letter, and sold out in the first day. By the end of the week, I’d had orders for two hundred more. I was still catching up on those.
