Page 57 of My Hexed Honeymoon

“I think there’s more to it than they let on. And not just because it’s carved from someone’s freaking femur and etched with coven runes,” she adds, her mouth twisting. “The way Riven’s acting only confirms my fears. It’s more than a way to amplify their magic, Diego. And this is where it gets weird, it’s also…connected to me.”

Foreboding causes the back of my neck and my scalp to tingle. I already know I’m not going to like the answer—that it’s going to be connected to witch magic and I’m still trying to be okay with that.

I lick my lips and force out the low question, all too aware of why we needed the noisy water to cover our conversation now.No matter how I try to twist it around in my head, if we don’t hand over the loom, we’ll be going to war with the vampires.

I’m not saying I’m not willing, but I’d like a lot more information before sentencing any of my pack members to die. “Connected how?”

“In the Hollow a voice told me I was deeply connected to the loom and the power within the shadow realm. And when I found the loom… I was holding it. Not me, but a different version of me if that makes sense.” She shakes her head again. “I mean, I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s like the loom…recognized me. Like it belongs to me. Like it’s meant to be mine.”

The words settle over me like a chill.

“And not in a power-hungry way,” she says, her voice so quiet my ears have to strain to hear, even from right beside her. “In a protective way. Like the Blood Loom truly could be the key to changing the tide of this war, but only if it’s used by the right person, and I know down inmybones, that’s me.

“Because if the vampires or anyone else gets their hands on it…”

“They’ll use it for bad. Basically,” I add when that sounds too simple for what we’re dealing with.

“What do you want me to do?”

Tears rise in her eyes, and I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong until she lunges and wraps her arms around my neck. “Thank you,” she says.

She sits back on her heels, her expression resolved where worry was before. “Riven wasn’t kidding when they said the vampires are running out of patience. Once we return to the compound, we’ll tell them that we need to study it more. They’ll be mad but it’ll give us time to figure things out.”

Talia sinks her teeth into her lower lip, back to worried once again. “Actually no, they’ll summon vampires who’ll come running the instant they find out.”

I nod. She’s not wrong. I didn’t want to tell her that her original plan was far too optimistic, but the information is too heavy for me to celebrate.

This whole mission just went from done and about to wrap up nicely to entirely fucked within a handful of hours.

“Diego, I need you to help me protect it at all costs,” she says quietly, her hand drifting to the pack where she’s secured the loom. “I need you to keep it safe, not just from Riven and the rest of the vampires… but from everybody.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The clearing is eerily quiet—nobirdsong, no rustle of wind. Just my wheezy breaths and the sound of boots scuffing against pine needles and loose soil.

Something’s wrong, I think, trying to aim the thought at Diego, but he’s bringing up the rear, making it damn near impossible.

Every spark that’s connected to a living creature has cleared the area; even the plants seem to be shrinking away.

I slow my pace, and Riven does as well, glancing at me with an unreadable expression. They’ve been closed off and pouty since I requested the time by the water. But they could keep on pouting because Diego was going to help me, and right now that was keeping me going.

It’s when his head jerks up like Riven’s arriving at camp that my blood goes cold.

He plants his feet and rolls his shoulders, a snarl curling his lips.

Pressure pops in the air, like we’re standing beneath a thundercloud that’s about to aim its bolt of lightning directly at us.

“Backstabbing parasite.” Diego flings the insult at Riven as his muscles roll and convulse beneath his skin.

“I’m not the one who went back on our deal,” Riven says, so I’m clearly the only one in the dark, even though I knew something was off. “But to save you any mental anguish, this would’ve happened either way. The only question was whether I’d steal your bride.”

At that, Diego explodes, all fur and fury and bones that snap and twist with brutal efficiency. His clothes are in shreds as his jaw elongates, hands forming claws as he lunges and surges forward, gray and silver fur rippling over his skin in a fast-moving wave.

Massive and seething, he charges toward Riven with lethal intent.

The vampire meets him in the middle, a blur of motion and talons and violence.

Riven’s fist connects with Diego’s ribs, and while it sends him backward several feet, he doesn’t falter—he digs his claws into the ground, leaving lines scored into the grass, then goes from skidding to propelling.

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