Page 19 of My Hexed Honeymoon

Natalia’s voice softens, a hint of genuine understanding flickering in her eyes. “Do you think you could ground yourselfin that state? Because I’ve read dozens of books on meditation and centering yourself, even devouring ridiculous tomes on the occult from witches throughout time…”

I feel my lip curl, my sneer coming on before I can stop it.

“When I was a little girl, I got this glimpse into another world that drained me of every ounce of happiness I’d ever felt, and trust me, I didn’t have much to start with. Not with my mother and the crushing weight of her disappointment leaving me so sad and depressed.”

She sucks in a deep breath, the fear wafting off her sharp enough I can taste it. “Andromeda ordered me to keep going deeper into that real—to let go and give in. But every cell in my body shouted there wasn’t a tether strong enough in the world to keep me from getting lost.”

“I’m strong enough,” I promise her, and I can’t explain how I know, but I resolve right then and there not to let her down—not when it comes to anchoring her to the real world, where I also vow to do a better job of keeping her safe.

She’s shaking her head again, and I do my best not to be offended.

But then her eyes lock on mine, and I see the tiniest sliver of an opening.

Pouring reassurance into her with my eyeballs, I throw open the doors on the mating bond. Primitive and all-consuming, my urge to protect her and claim her as mine rumbles through me and vibrates the ground beneath our feet.

Natalia’s mouth drops open, forming the perfect O, and a noise that sounds exceedingly

sexual pierces the air. Her lashes flutter closed as she sways in my direction, fingers wrapping around my biceps, her pulse steadily increasing as her blood pumps hotter.

We both get a jolt like we’ve completed a current of electricity that can’t help but flow, until even my teeth feel as supercharged as a car battery.

“I…can’t…let go,” she says.

“I can, but I won’t.” I lock eyes with her again, but this time, I let my walls down a couple of inches. In the end, we want the same thing, for both of our people to survive. “I promise.”

Resolve bleeds into her features, and she gives a sharp nod. “Okay then. Let’s get started for real.”

CHAPTER TEN

At my feet,the water babbles away cheerily, unaware we’re standing on the precipice of war.

“It’s hard to explain to someone else,” I say to Diego, attempting not to focus on the feel of his hard muscles against my back or the fingers loosely wrapped around my hip. “Did you ever see those pictures that’d pop out at you if you relaxed your eyes just right?”

“I hated those,” he says, and I bite back a grin. Of course he did. They required patience, and he so clearly doesn’t have any.

“Okay, think of it like a 3D movie—every dude loves those.”

“You don’t like 3D movies?” His surprise rings through the question, as if I’ve said something crazy like I hate chocolate or something.

“It’s the glasses, and then I get headaches and a little motion sickness, and that’s not the point. The point is, I have to sort of find the edges of the universe and pull them apart. In the exact, right place” Even the explanation was complicated. “Before I could sort out the threads, it was more like infrared goggles. See the fish in the stream?”

Brook trout dart between stones, silvery flashes just beneath the surface. Some kind of mayfly hovers in a flittering dance above the spring. Wildflowers in every hue bloom defiantly around us. “Yeah.”

“I can sense their lifeforce, along with the grass and the trees and the insects and every crawly and creepy creature in the forest, each of them like little glowing heartbeats.”

“I can do that with my heightened sense of sight and sound.”

I hope he sees and hears my irritation. “Well then, it sounds like you can find your own way into the Hollow.”

I begin to pull away, and he tightens his grip on my hip.

That huffing and puffing he likes to pretend he doesn’t do happens, warming the nape of my neck, “I was trying to be relatable.”

“You were mansplaining,” I retort, because I’ve been the one to give in and backtrack and apologize all my life. And on this, the day after my wedding to a werewolf I’m beginning to truly despise, I just don’t feel like doing it anymore.

Guess that means the honeymoon’s over.

At his low grumble of complaint, I glance over my shoulder and pin him with a glare. “Help or get out of my way.”

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