A laugh of disbelief catches in my throat. Interesting is the last word I’d use for it, but maybe if I weren’t the one walking around as the poster child of a revitalized myth, I’d take a more academic approach.

Rose winces. “Sorry, this is just the first curse of this kind that I’ve ever seen. What is it that you think I can do? Grace wasn’t very clear when she called me.”

Grace had walked me in before taking off to pick up aglamourfor me. A spell to hide what has happened while we try to figure out how to break the curse.

The vintage hair scarf tied in the fashion of a Hollywood starlet doesn’t hide themovementof my affliction.

Grace thinking I need a glamour in the meantime tells me that she doesn’t think this is going to be an easy fix. I hadn’t wanted to pick apart her hypothesis for breaking the curse. I should have asked more questions.

“Um, well… Grace picked up some details from the book that did this, and she thinks that a way to break the spell is to find my mate.” My cheeks burn. “Or… find pleasure on a serpent’s tongue.”

Whatever the fuck that meant.

“Ah.” Rose’s confusion clears. “So, you came to me to find you your mate, or pleasure presumably with a serpent kin.”

“The book is serpent kin in origin,” I say, as if this term isn’t hours old in my vocabulary. “According to Grace.”

“I see,” Rose says. She bites her lip in consideration. “How do you feel about either of those options?”

How do I feel? That’s a can of worms I don’t want to pry open, but the matchmaker asked…

“I don’t usually have casual sex. A-assuming that’s what you mean by find pleasure with. But… If it solves this…” I start.Can I do casual sex if it means getting rid of this curse?

Rose waves a hand to cut me off. “No one wants you to do something you don’t want to or that will make you uncomfortable. Not me and not anyone you match with.”

Right. That makes sense. Some worry ebbs away with Rose’s direct verdict, but that leaves…

“Are you wanting a mate?” the matchmaker asks.

I blink at the term.

Not a boyfriend, a lover, or husband, amate.

Which somehow seems like something more and completely out there all at once.

Word usage aside, do I want to start a relationship with everything I have on my plate? I’m a mess. I’m barely handling the nightmares and the world around me as it is.

Obviously, my current condition of having fuckingsnakesfor hair means I’m handling diddly-squat.

I clear my throat. “I only found out about all this”—I make a vague gesture— “the whole magic thing a few weeks ago. Is a mate a permanent thing?”

“Oh!” Rose’s eyes are wide. “That’s… uncommon.”

I’m glad that Grace hadn’t told Rose all about me. I’m sure she’s nice, but I’d rather she didn’t know all about my trauma before us meeting.

I snort. “I’ve been told.”

And reminded repeatedly.

According to Grace, most humans aren’t abducted and forced into this world. And the instances they are… aren’t spoken about. It gives me the impression that humans don’t survive clashes with the supernatural, but I don’t want to ask the question point blank.

Rose nods at my words before answering my question. “The permanency of mates depends on the type of paranormal and what level of bonding they do.”

I frown. “Like soul bonding?”

“Exactly. Some creatures soul bond as a default and for others it’s more optional. It can be helpful when it comes to types of paranormals with different life spans.”

“And people with different life spans intermate frequently?”