Page 6 of Dewitched

“A suite in the castle would be more secure,” she added. “I’m glad we’re staying in the cabins, though.”

He agreed with her about the first part. With only one way in or out of the guest rooms, it would be a hell of a lot easier to keep the princess safe, but Iliana had been adamant about spending the week in one of the seven cabins atop the hill. She hadn’t been very forthcoming with her reasoning, but then again, it didn’t really matter.

It wasn’t his place to change her mind.

Exiting the door onto the portico off the south lawn, even Fenix had to admit it smelled fresher and felt less suffocating. A crisp wind rushed to him from the mountains, bringing with it the scent of change as temperatures cooled and plant life turned dormant. A hint of rain also lingered in the air, courtesy of the clouds that gathered in the skies above.

He hurried his steps, hopeful the storm would wait until he had finished his inspection. Although he wouldn’t suffer any ill effects from being caught in a downpour, he would rather avoid it if possible. Otherling, human, or otherwise, no one enjoyed walking around in wet leathers.

As he neared the row of modest cabins, another strange scent tickled his nose. Strange because of how out of place it was in their current surroundings. It was citrusy, like fresh lemons, but with an underlying sweetness that reminded him of vanilla bean ice cream.

“Do you smell that?”

Seneca tilted her head with a furrowed brow. “I smell a lot of things. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Fenix didn’t respond. Like him, if she had detected it, she would have picked up on the unusualness of the fragrance. It shouldn’t be possible for him to catch a scent she couldn’t, but rather than confusion, her reaction filled him with an irrefutable certainty.

This scent, wherever it came from, was for him and him alone.

As that thought solidified, so did his conviction, and in that moment, something inside him shifted, creating a permanent space for someone he hadn’t even set eyes on. His pulse accelerated. His muscles tensed. Colors became brighter, and sounds rang sharper. An electrical current rippled down his spine, a growl built in his chest, and every cell of his body went on red alert.

He had faced his share of dangerous situations over the course of his long life, but not even staring death in the eyes had flooded him with so much adrenaline. But where was it coming from? Muted conversations whispered from the treehouse suites inside the tree line, but the tantalizing scent wafted from somewhere nearby. Yet, apart from Seneca, he saw no one else in the vicinity.

Confused and frustrated, he began to entertain the possibility that he could be, in fact, losing his mind when a figure crested the hill from the direction of the lake. Young, slight in appearance, with short platinum locks, the male hadn’t noticed him yet.

A pair of glasses with rectangular lenses and thick black frames perched precariously on the end of his nose as he stared down at the phone in his hand. On his head, he wore a pair of white, oversized headphones with two triangular points on top like cat ears. The ears, along with rings on the earpieces, pulsed with a bright neon pink light, but Fenix didn’t hear any music coming from the device.

Maybe the male had caught a glimpse of him from the corner of his eye. Or maybe instincts had warned him he was being stalked. Whatever the reason, his head snapped up, and he stared straight at Fenix with the most dazzling golden-green eyes.

One look. That was all it took. Just one look, and Fenix knew nothing would ever be the same again.

Chapter three

After spending a goodportion of the morning in his cabin, Owen had donned his sweater jacket and headed down to the lake. Lounging in the sun on the banks of the water with a designer playlist had sounded like the perfect way to pass a few hours.

Alone.

Not exactly ideal, especially in a festival environment, but he’d grown accustomed to solitude. Besides, it would be safer for everyone if he avoided crowded spaces. Even the simple act of buying a coffee from the lobby café had felt like navigating a complicated maze. Only, the obstacles were other people, and none of them remained still for long.

After a close call with a clumsy fairy, he had seriously considered taking advantage of the hotel’s room service. Again, it would be the safer option, but ultimately, spending the entire week locked away kind of defeated the purpose of attending the Spooktacular in the first place.

He’d spent a couple of hours by the lake, soaking up the sun and enjoying the quiet until his rumbling stomach had becometoo uncomfortable to ignore. Pausing his music, he’d brought up the Manor’s website to search for food options while he trudged up the hill toward his cabin.

With the exception of a few fae on the forest path that led to the treehouse suites, he hadn’t seen another soul outside since his arrival. Distracted by his phone, and confident that he was mostly alone, he hadn’t given much thought to his surroundings. Not until the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end, and a low buzz started in his ears.

It was a feeling that every creature on the planet recognized, even if they had never experienced it before. The feeling of being watched. Stalked. Hunted. The oppressive weight of a stare that triggered an innate sense of self-preservation.

Abandoning the pursuit for lunch, he snapped his head up, searching for any potential threat. He didn’t have to look far. His gaze immediately landed on a massive male dressed in solid black standing a few cabins down from his own.

Despite the sizeable distance separating them, Owen couldn’t move. Every muscle in his body seized, his feet rooted to the ground, and his chest constricted, making each subsequent breath painful and shallow. His heart drummed erratically against his ribs, shaking his entire body until it felt like his very soul was vibrating.

So fixated on the male, he hadn’t noticed his companion—an equally intimidating female—until she stepped away from an evergreen at the corner of the building. She watched him, her bright eyes alert, but her body language appeared far less intense. While she might have been surprised to see him there, she didn’t give the impression that she might rip his face off for existing.

The male, on the other hand, still hadn’t looked away, and even without supernatural senses, Owen could hear the audiblegrowl emanating from the guy’s throat. It was deep, primal, and it seemed to be growing in volume.

Yet, despite every instinct he possessed telling him to run, or at the very least, appease the beast, he wasn’t afraid. Not truly. A nervous energy filled him, and adrenaline flooded his veins, but he wouldn’t call it fear. The stranger could snap him like a twig without breaking a sweat, but Owen knew he wouldn’t hurt him.

Where that confidence came from, he couldn’t say, nor did he understand why he accepted it with such ease. He didn’t know this man, had never even seen him before, but at the same time, there existed a familiarity about him. Some part of him, long buried and untouched, recognized and reacted to this stranger.

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