Page 66 of My Hexed Honeymoon

Diego had cupped my cheek and said, “That’s why we’re going to go get it back for you, baby.”

But as our cavalcade reaches the fringes of the vampire camp, I don’t feel so sure about our plan or even how necessary it is anymore. Set up about a hundred yards from the house where I’d grown up at Oldenwilde headquarters, an enormous dome of the blackest clouds covers the area, blotting out the sun’s rays and casting us in a shroud of perma-darkness.

I’ve never seen such a powerful Overcaster Spell—Andromeda’s effectively turned off the sun and surrounded herself with a vampire horde. Torches burn along the edges of the valley, topping off the medieval war vibes.

No surprise, they’re ready for us, strapped with shields and swords and frothing at the mouth.

Okay, I can’tseethat last detail, but I know it’s accurate. Point is, their scouts are just as good as ours, and they’re ready and waiting for us.

As a battle cry goes up, the roar shakes the entire valley. Every muscle in my body locks, except whichever ones are causing my heart to beat so fucking hard in my chest.

You have to be strong enough this time.?You have to be the powerful Realmweaver and witch they claim you are.

Diego’s hand wraps around mine, warm and sure and so much bigger than mine. “Stick close. Don’t engage unless you see the loom. You call my name, I’ll be there.”

All of that sounds super impossible, but I nod and give his fingers a final squeeze.

He looks at Gideon and Elias, my two personal bodyguards. Poor guys have been tasked with keeping me safe in a place there’s not going to be any.

I meet Diego’s eyes, forcing my chin not to tremble, stinging tears held at bay. By the moon, I’m scared, though. So fucking scared I can’t breathe.

“We’ve got this,” he assures me, this reality of a war I was meant to prevent from happening about to begin.

I plaster on a smile filled with the affection I have for him and these warrior werewolves who’ve joined my cause, grateful for and haunted by the cost of standing by me. “Whatever happens,” I whisper, “I love you. I’d choose you as my groom in a thousand lifetimes.”

“Right back at you, bruja.” His grin is as strained as mine is, but much fiercer and so cocksure, it only makes me love him more. “Now let’s kill these bloodsuckers and make sure we get to spend this lifetime together.”

With the lift of his chin, he signals Conall and Sasquatch, who head the charge for the first wave.

They respectively command the two groups flanking our middle position, setting off a wave of shifting from human to wolf that ripples through our right and our left.

While Conall transforms to a russet-colored wolf, and I suspected Sasquatch would be a red wolf, the one-named werewolf doesn’t shift. He simply hefts a giant battle ax and charges into the fray swinging.

After a quick kiss to the back of my hand, Diego releases it and shifts at my side.

One second my husband is flesh and blood, and the next, his storm-gray pelt is bristling, his gold eyes burning with deadly promise.

As I summon my limited magic without the help of the loom, I’m practically gargling my runaway heart.

The air goes tight, like a cold and hot front are about to collide and go supercell violent.

An entire crowd of vampires sprints directly toward us, gliding over the forest’s undergrowth with silent, deadly grace. They move with the precision of predators, eyes black and cold, gleaming with their merciless intent.

Behind them, I catch a flash of movement—witches in ceremonial cloaks, fingers glowing in scintillating green.

I was always so jealous of my sisters who didn’t have to work at their magic. Their stakes were far lower than mine, too, but it’s like the harder I try to tap into the magic, the faster it runs away.

I catch a flash of Riven’s cloak as they dance a defensive, slightly blurred line in front of the cluster of witches, rapier sword at the ready. Looks like the witches have their very own personal vampire guard. Did it really have to be Riven?

Andromeda stands at the center of their V-formation, the coven’s homicidal, power-hungry leader always front and center.

A twisted smile plays across her blood-red lips, widening at the front lines of the werewolves and vampires who crash into each other with a clash of fur and metal.

Every single thing I’ve ever loved, she’s taken away, and with the deaths of so many supernatural beings hanging in the balance, I can’t believe she’s waited all her life for this.

Once I spot the Blood Loom in her hands, my pulse quickens and my focus snaps tight.

I lift my chin, the tool’s loss still a heavy stone in my chest.

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