Page 125 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
I dipped a finger in his blood and used it to write a short phrase on the wall in the language of the sidhe.
Gabhe sush orte feend.
“What does that mean?” Grace choked out, adjusting her witch hat as the werewolf took up a defensive stance on her left side. I had the instant and distinct and assuredly correct premonition that he was going to become a virulent pain in my ass.
“It means,” I said, rising to my feet, still smiling, my heart racing, the witch blood in my veins making me glow like a living lantern. “Take it upon yourself. Just think of it as the faerie equivalent of the human phrase ‘fuck off and die’.”
Once again, I cut off some of my hair. Much more than a foot. Nearly all of it, right up to the shoulders, and then I dropped the coil of it atop Caedmon’s chest.
The only curse I laid upon him was this: may you suffer half as much as your past victims.
“Come.” I took Grace’s hand and pulled her way before the screams could start. Because, even with a ravaged throat, Caedmon would scream and scream and scream. Likely, he would scream for days before he died.
At the very least.
I mean, I hoped so anyway.
Once outside the faerie mound that served as the palace for the Seelie Court, we ran.
As luck would have it, the queen was out on a hunt. There was certainly no time like the present to make our escape.
Grace—and the damned wolf—guided us to the faerie ring, a brilliant cluster of orange and white mushrooms around the base of a white-barked tree. If stabbed, it would bleed, much like the trees in Hael did, but unlike with Caedmon, I had no intention of causing it harm. Certainly, the tree was a much more valuable member of Faerie than my younger brother.
After passing through, we found ourselves in a dark forest, a banal patch of human land with little light and no people, as I preferred it.
“Will your mother follow you here?” Grace asked, looking askance at the ring of brown mushrooms near her feet. She reached up to adjust her witch hat, but before her hands could make contact with the brim, I was curling my own hands around hers and pulling her close.
“Unlikely. Her power is in Faerie. But my chances of ever paying her a visit without dying are slim.” Not that I cared. In that moment, all I cared about was Grace. It never occurred to me that at some point, I might actually need to cross the Veil again.
Silly me.
I brought Grace’s hands to my chest and pressed them against my heart before moving them to her face. I cradled that pretty head of hers in gentle fingers and then lowered my mouth to hers. In anticipation, her eyes closed and her head tilted back to give me better access.
“Pardon me, but we’ve been plannin’ your escape for the better part of two damn weeks. Do I get a thank you or is this all there is to it?”
I paused and glanced over to find a man with dirty blond hair and a pretty frown staring back at me. His amber eyes met mine, and I felt it, that horrible rush of energy that indicated some sort of bond between us.
Goddess-damn it.
“If I might ask,” I began as Graceley squirmed out of my grip and stood halfway between the werewolf and me, as if she wasn’t sure who to go to. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Caine Wolf,” the man said with a slight nod. He was naked and, much to my great relief, he didn’t appear to have a cock that was any larger than my own. Good for him. If I’d felt intimidated, there was a chance I might simply have cut his right off.
I was the jealous type, I’ll admit.
“Caine Wolf.” The words did not sound particularly pleasant falling from my sinful lips. I glanced over at Grace, finding her chagrined and fidgety, as if she was nervous about something. “Did you cheat on me with this man?” I pointed at him, and the cocksucker had the audacity to grin at me.
I could’ve killed him in that moment.
“No!” Grace shouted, putting her hands up, palms out. “No, of course not.” Her gaze shifted over to Caine’s and although I believed her, I also doubted that this was the end of the story. “He’s been with me for weeks, helping me plan this whole thing.”
“And you know each other how?” I queried, folding one arm across my middle and resting my other elbow in the palm of my hand. I gestured loosely, affecting a bored, almost apathetic demeanor.
But I knew.
I already knew.
Some things were impossible to deny. This man, this werewolf, he was one of our gods-damned soulmates. I could protest. I could demand that Grace choose between us. But I also wasn’t an idiot. A soulmate was someone who a person had loved in many past lives, so many that they’d tied their souls together with magic. It was fate, in a way, but it was a self-imposed fate.
