Page 50 of My Hexed Honeymoon

Something told me that bigger, more terrifying presence that spoke to me was in charge, but it’s not like I stopped to play twenty questions.

Talons tangled in my hair as the whispering grew louder and louder. A disembodied rasp at my ear demanded I stop being afraid and learn to wield the power my ancestors passed down to me.

Either join us out there or join us in here forever.

The pressure in my head eases as I slowly reorient myself in the present.

Diego’s arms are around me, holding me tight as I rock against him, smoothing a hand down my hair as he repeats “It’s okay, I’ve got you” again and again.

I’m dizzy from the lack and then excess of oxygen, as well as the scent of pine filling my nostrils. I was drowning in despair, sure I’d breathed my last breath on earth, when I heard Diego calling my name.

If he hadn’t pulled me out, I’m not sure I would’ve ever escaped. I’d battered my knuckles banging on the walls of a realm that didn’t bend or give at the panicked pounding of my fist, cursing myself for ever venturing into a place of utter darkness like that in the first place.

And then, like a lifeline, his hand urgently reached for me in that hazy stitching-together slit between our realm and the Hollow.

As the forest around me continues to sharpen, the werewolf’s voice still in my ear, I tell myself I’m safe, if not still a bit disoriented.

No fire, no werewolf children in their beds.

No scary presence pressuring me to embrace who I am or trying to gleefully trap me within the Hollow forever.

My eyes dart to my hand, relief flooding me before exhaustion leaves me sinking further into Diego’s embrace. “I did it.”

“You did, bruja. You got the weapon—I’m so proud of you.” He kisses my temple and my insides get melty. Normally I’m told how I failed, never that I’ve done a good job, and that alone makes me want to shed a happy tear or two.

“Yes, now we can change the course of this war,” Riven says, reminding me oh yeah, they’re also here. They take a step in my direction, extending their palm and gesturing for me to hand over the tool I’ve worked so hard to retrieve with a wiggle of their fingers. “Give me the Blood Loom.”

Everything within me tightens with a sense of wrongness that nearly overpowers me. The idea of releasing the bone handles and handing over the weapon…

My stomach roils violently; my skin grows too tight.

Reactions that make me feel like they’re asking for an arm or a leg. Not only do I refuse, I’ve half a mind to threaten to end Riven and any of the other vampires if they even try to come for my loom.

The loom.

Whatever, I don’t know what’s going on with me, only that this tool became a part of me as soon as I took it from my nightmare version.

Except the deal was to give it over to the vampires.

“Give it to me,” Riven repeats. Their tone is even—almost too even—but there’s a sharpness under it.

A hunger.

I tell myself it’s not the same, green-eyed monster that has me tightening my grip on the Blood Loom, but I can’t be sure. Only that I know I can’t hand it over to them yet.

“I barely survived whatever it was in there that chased me across the Hollow and threatened to trap me there forever,” Isay, not bothering to keep my voice even so it’s nice and wobbly, “so until we return to the compound, the blade stays with me.”

“That wasn’t the deal,” Riven snaps. “I told you I’d take you to a place where the veil is thin to help you navigate the shadow real, and that’s exactly what I’ve done. I can travel faster than you, and the vampires are restless to have their magic returned to them—I can’t wait to deliver the good news.”

Nope, there’s still something in me absolutely screaming not to let Riven take it.

I look to Diego for help, thinking it’s likely in vain, but his arms tighten around me as he lifts us both to our feet.

His muscles are coiled, ready for a fight. Under most any other circumstances, I’d claim there’s no reason for one.

He throws back a protective arm, shielding me the way he did when Riven first showed up at the compound unannounced, but this time I welcome his overprotective tendencies. “You heard her, the blade stays in Talia’s possession until the heads of each clan can meet.”

Riven bares their teeth in a smile that fails to reach their eyes. “We’re not going to war by committee—the vampires are being exterminated, and we will fight back. That’s the weapon we need to prevent the hunters from taking over our cities and towns, including yours.”

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