Page 29 of My Hexed Honeymoon

Diego grips one of the axes below the crescent-shaped blade and extends me the handle with surprising gentleness. He’s grinning ear to ear, and while we’ve shared some jokes and toned down the barbs this past week, he’s truly in his element here.

It looks good on him, but that’s sort of like saying the sun is bright.

Nudging me forward, over to the line where Elias threw from. There’s a patch worn in the grass from all the werewolves who came before.

“You’ve got to grip it in both hands like you’re swinging a bat,” Diego says.

“Never swung one of those, but I get the gist.”

“What kind of fucked up childhood did you have? I thought mine was bad, and you make it look like Disneyland.”

I whir around, a little too fast—it’s a good thing he’s got fast reflexes and brawn to spare, because he barely dodges in time. “Sorry. I just… Have you been to Disneyland?”

“No, but I can’t say it’s ever been a goal destination for me, even as a kid. And while I might’ve missed out on Little League games and high school sports after our village was destroyed, Conall, Nissa, and I built this place to ensure future generations could.”

My organs go all mushy on me, as if I needed any more reasons to soften too much toward this man.

“We made it a point to ensure this village would never be destroyed like our last one was. So that we could give others that safety and assurance and strengthen our numbers after losing what was most precious to us.”

The harsh words he hurled at me in the forest during our very first outing ring in my ears again, but with new meaning.I’ve seen your kind slaughter dozens of werewolves. Women and children in their beds. An entire village burned to the ground.

No wonder he hates me. As curious as I am to know if it was a village on Mother Dearest’s death list, I’m terrified to know.

Because I also remember the screams of women and children being burned in their beds.

That charred and choking scent that stung my nostrils and coated my lungs.

How my mother yelled at me for crying and leaving streaks of weakness in the ash on my face.

I was about ten years old, but it wasn’t just that once.

It happened again and again, and after the destruction, I’d look behind me at the expanse of forest not on her war path and debate whether it’d be worth it to flee.

Given her powerful magic, she’d undoubtedly locate and punish me. I remember wondering so often as a child why she even had me; if she wouldn’t be happier if I ran away?

During an ugly fight when I was fourteen years old and dared to ask, she answered in the worst possible way.I thought you’d be powerful, not some ditzy girl with her head in the clouds.

It seemed extra ironic considering that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be—although I knew I was intelligent, if not clever enough to outmaneuver or overpower her. Doing the grunt work of her evil bidding also made it crystal clear she only wanted me for who I could be and what I could do for her, and neither of those options was particularly motivating.

Which was when she’d switched to inflicting physical pain.

“Okay, so no sports metaphors for you,” Diego says, yanking me back into the present, in this clearing surrounded by werewolves. And somehow, I realize I feel less afraid than I ever did around my own mother.

Diego places his hands on either side of my waist and spins me back to face the target.

The heat of his body seeps into mine as he wraps himself around me, gripping the handle of the ax just above where I’ve now got two hands holding tight.

“It’s not so much about physical strength as physics.” He guides my arms through the motions, shifting his other hand a few inches above mine to maintain more control over the pointy end. “You’re going to let gravity, momentum, and torque do the work.”

Sure. That’d work for someone like me, with twigs for arms.

Even with his help, my muscles tremble with the unwieldy weight of the full-size ax. Didn’t people use hatchets nowadays?

His warm breath stirs the hair at my nape and tickles my ear, throwing my aim off completely. “Then you just let it fly.”

I heave it with all my might.

The ax thuds to the ground several feet shy of the target.

---