Page 49 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
“Get out of our bedroom,” Argent snarled, forcing himself into a sitting position. He was pushing too hard, too fast. If he didn’t cool his jets a little, he’d pass out again. “I can smell your scent all over my bed—and my wife.”
All over me?
My eyes met Monster’s, but he gave nothing away but for that infuriating smirking smile of his. He inclined his head.
“You’re welcome, for taking care of you for weeks. I could’ve allowed you to starve; I could’ve let you soil yourself. Did I do anything of the sort?”
“If I find out you violated her while she slept—” Argent began, and Monster’s rage became overwhelming. It swirled the long curtains in our bedroom window, made the doors rattle in their jambs. Even the house shook beneath the onslaught of his fury.
“How dare you accuse me of something like that. Only the worst sort of man—” he began and then, as if he just realized what he was saying, he scowled heavily and squeezed his hands into such tight fists that his knuckles cracked. “I would never rape a sleeping woman, Argent Spells, regardless of what you might think of me.”
He turned and stormed from the room, his magic slamming the door shut behind him.
I glanced over at Argent to find him staring at his lap in quiet fury.
“Argent,” I began, and he snapped his gaze over to mine. We’d been asleep for four weeks, about as long as I’d expected. Two days late for Thanksgiving, but it was a miracle we’d awoken during the month of November at all.
I was just thrilled that we hadn’t missed Christmas.
He rose to his feet and stumbled, slamming his shoulder into the wall with a curse.
“You need to take it easy,” I warned him, but he ignored me, yanking the door open and stumbling out. I just assumed he was off to find a phone, so that we could call my parents.
How Monster managed to get us out of their house, past the coven, past the Maiden—past the Crone, especially—and all the way back here, I wasn’t sure. But it was clear that he’d been caring for us for the entirety of our time asleep.
I touched a hand to my belly and swallowed hard. Oh. Crap.
I might not be showing, but I felt pregnant. Witches could sense pregnancy within five days of conception. Seeing as I’d passed out just before that mark, I had only Monster’s word—not worth much, in all honesty—to go on.
Now, I knew for sure.
Argent did, too, I think.
I put a hand to my head and massaged my temple with two fingers.
I’m pregnant with Hex Sorciere’s baby.
Hey, at the very least, I’d have at least one kid from each of my soulmates.
Now, whether or not our fourth and final would choose to stay, that was his choice …
I threw the blankets back and then cupped a hand over my mouth. Nausea was a common symptom for any witch to feel after waking up from such a complicated and powerful spell. Alternatively, it could be morning sickness.
Either way, I barely made it into the bathroom before I was gagging over the toilet. Nothing came up but bile. Monster had clearly kept us fed, hydrated, and clean while we slept, but through spells instead of actual food or water. There was nothing in me to throw up.
Once the feeling of nausea passed, I made my way back to the bed, stumbling and shaking, as if I’d just woken up from a terrible hangover. The faint bit of light peeking in under the bedroom door was giving me a migraine.
Argent sat on the bed with a phone in his lap. He was leaned back against the headboard while a voice trickled through the speaker.
“Are you listening to me?” a voice commanded, and my heart leapt.
Mom.
I covered the last few feet to the bed, like a newborn foal on shaky legs, and fell onto it, snatching at the phone with faint tears brimming in my eyes. I hadn’t heard Abigail Spells sound like herself in months.
“Mom, it’s me,” I said, and she paused in whatever tirade she was on to pull in a sharp breath.
“Oh Graceley, we’ve been so worried,” she gushed as I fought the urge to cough again, closing my eyes just as Argent was doing. This weak, shaky feeling we were both experiencing wasn’t about to go away overnight. We’d need a few days—maybe a week or more—to fully recover.
As far as our magic was concerned, it’d be another two months before we could cast a spell of that magnitude.
“You’re okay?” I clarified, and she huffed at me. Very, uh, like my mother. Not a single molecule in me expected her to act grateful for our sacrifice. I knew she was though, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“Okay? I’ve been terrified for weeks, wondering what that … that filthy demon whore was up to in your house. What has he done to you?” I opened my eyes, looking down at the clean lilac colored satin nightie I was wearing. As far as I could tell, Monster had done nothing.
