Page 89 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

Rupert hung back, too. “It’s time we talked, Nightshade.”

“No, sir. There will be time after we remove the last threat to Witchmere. Until then, we work together to help Elara.”

“That’s what I intended to say. But I was also going to say that I believe that last stone is yours, not hers.”

“Why? Those bloody boots have been about her unresolved issues.”

“Until now,” Rupert replied. “You were too busy to notice, but the amethyst only lit when you committed to Elara.”

“I committed when I told her I loved her,” Tripp said. “My intentions haven’t changed.”

“Well, something happened between then and now. I know what I saw.”

If it was true, then there was something he and Elara were missing in all of this. Something Hermes might clarify. But the Divine Trickster’s cooperation was never guaranteed.

“What was it you wanted?” Rupert asked. When Tripp glanced at him in surprise, the man laughed. “I’ve been around a helluva lot longer than you, son. I know a troubled mind when I see one.”

“I don’t want her hurt when you and your wife leave again.”

Rupert’s eyes touched on his retreating family. “I doubt Mae will let that happen. She’s been miserable far too long without her girls.”

“Then why stay away?”

“I’m a Titan, Nightshade. You know what that means. Challenges by other gods because I’m the last of my kind.”

“Until Elara.”

Expression grim, the man nodded. “Until Elara.”

A lead weight settled in Tripp’s stomach. When word leaked of what she was, others would come to test her, hoping to steal her power.

“How have you survived until now? And why spend so many years in your beach house?”

“Both your questions can be answered the same way. We rarely stay there and are always on the move. It’s just a place for Mae to replenish her magic.”

“I see.” And Tripp did. Maybe their town of supernaturals could band together and help him create a cloaking spell to protect Elara and, by extension, Payton. His mother might be willing if her ruffled feathers were soothed. Hermes might be on board, too. Tripp hadn’t missed the caring in his cousin’s eyes.

“What are you thinking?” Rupert asked.

“Just what it will take to protect her.”

“If you aren’t up for the task?—”

“Fuck off. I’d lay my life down for her without question,” he stated coldly. Lightning flashed. “Don’t ever question my motives again, Hawthorne, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Rupert surprised him when he grinned and slapped him on the back. The force behind the hit knocked him forward.

“I think you’re perfect for my daughter, son.”

“Thanks,” he said, tone drier than dirt. “I have the feeling my life is about to get a thousand times more interesting with you and Mae around.”

“Titans attract trouble. What is it the young’uns say? Sorry for your bad luck.”

Tripp laughed. How could he not? In Rupert, he saw flashes of Elara’s humor and grit. He’d be hard-pressed not to like the guy.

“Spill your guts, cousin.”

Hermes glanced up to see Tripp bearing down on him. He had to hand it to the man; he was relentless regarding Elara’s happiness and the safety of Witchmere.

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