Page 1 of My Hexed Honeymoon

CHAPTER ONE

You ever haveone of those weeks that just won’t stop?

A week that kicks your ass so thoroughly that you find yourself at the end of a rose-petal-strewn aisle, beneath an altar made up of a crescent moon and a pentagram, about to marry a werewolf?

Talk about an unholy union.

Given the brooding, seething mutt across from me, it’ll be a union filled with howling, growling, and gnashing of teeth.

Which is fine by me, because I want to bite Diego De la Cruz right back.

I’ll admit that when the beautiful man with bronze skin, dark hair and scruff, and dimples for days shouted his objections before the ceremony had even begun, a dangerous amount of hope beckoned. For a moment, I wondered if Prince Charming truly did exist.

But the hulking hottie ended up being nothing more than some neanderthal on a power trip.

Now I’m in the exact spot I was earlier, betrothed to an alpha werewolf, desperately searching for a way out.

It’s not like I longed to return to Mommy Dearest’s coven of like-minded witches. While the werewolves started this battle, my mother and the Ironwood Coven she aligned us with had been merciless when they’d gone after the Bridgewater Pack.

From there, an alliance had been forged, and lucky me, I got to be the pawn.

At the beginning of the ceremony, a werewolf named Conall Shaw had been my groom-to-be. While he was in love with a human, I figured that’d only make our marriage of alliance easier. But mere minutes before the exchanging of our vows, Diego challenged the former alpha for the number one spot.

The fight had burrowed a trail through the forest.

At the end of the literal fight for top dog, Diego De la Cruz came out on top, and Conall, no longer alpha of the pack, could be with woman he loved.

Now I’m back where I started the evening, draped in white and standing beneath a wedding altar, my breath growing shallow as the weight of the spellbound vows we’re about to exchange bears down on me.

That’s the thing about ceremonies involving magic: following through isn’t so much optional as vital to prolonging your life. The fidelity clause had claws, and as the officiant began his spiel, I swore I felt them digging into my churning gut.

As much as I’d acted like I didn’t care if the spell on the local veterinarian took her out or not, guilt plagued me over everything my mother had done to the woman the last alpha had fallen in love with. And yes, I’d been involved in her kidnapping, although it was under duress.

Most everything I’ve done for as long as I can remember has been under duress.

But there was being sorry for the part I played, and then there was binding my life to the tuxedoed werewolf across from me.

Resentment thickens the air between us, tension coiling like a snake ready to strike.

Using the special power I was gifted with, I reach out with my astral senses, feeling for the spark of every creature and plant in the forest. Birds, bunnies, a chipmunk family…

There, far enough it’s barely a glimmer, an Eastern hognose snake.

Not that I should be entertaining the idea of persuading a snake to slither on over and dig its fangs into my betrothed, who’s wrinkling his nose over being asked if he’ll take me, to have and to hold.

“…until your bloodline unites both caster and beast, ensuring the safety of both species for generations to come.”

Sure. A witchy werewolf is all that’s missing when it comes to convincing two species who’ve hated each other for centuries to get along.

I get it, though, why Mother forced the deal. We’re a dying breed, hunted by both werewolf and vampire alike. I’d go on a rant about the role misogyny played, but I really should save something for the honeymoon, you know?

A strong breeze rustles through the pines, swirling the veil atop my blond curls as the witch marrying us details bargains made in blood. My fingers tighten around the bouquet I hold, the stems creaking under the pressure and releasing an evergreen scent I long to follow to another plane entirely.

This is it. The moment I say yes and become a glorified breed mate.

Anger sings through my veins and simmers my blood. I can’t get over what a fucking hypocrite my mother is, raising me to come into power and then stripping me of my freedom and my future to serve her purposes.

Across from me, Diego stands firm, a fortress of chiseled strength. His broad shoulders are squared beneath inky black lapels, sharp jaw locked in place like he’s facing his execution.

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