Page 7 of My Hexed Honeymoon

My gaze drifts past Helena to Riven again, as if another vampire will soothe my stung feelings and abiding sense of ennui. As if I’ll find a bosom body instead of a monster who wants to sink their teeth into me.

Riven’s lips quirk, a hint of fang flashing in their smile. I might welcome it, as long as it gets me away from the brooding beast at my side.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Andromeda’s advancing on me. “Ungrateful brat, I’ve given you everything. How dare you keep this from me!”

She raises her hand to strike, and embarrassment burns my skin that they’ll all witness her violence against me.

In a flash, Diego moves—faster than I expected, even with preternatural speed. He catches my mother by the wrist, his body a wall of muscle that blocks her off from me. “Enough,” he says, his low growl reverberating through the space and leaving my skin humming.

Nobody has ever stood up to my mother. None of the witches in the coven, and certainly not me.

An emotion I can’t name but suspect is gratitude floods me. Given everything else that’s happened between Diego and me, I don’t know how exactly to feel about it.

Andromeda, however, is pissed. Green light crackles at her fingertips, and I hate that I’m not strong enough to stand up for him the way he stood up for me.

But then Diego wrenches her arm behind her back, spinning her around as if he’s a cop and she’s about to take a ride to the station. Now his fangs are out, dangerously close to Mother’s carotid artery. “We agreed to your deal, but make no mistake, I’ll protect what’s mine at all costs, and you’ve ensured Natalia’s part of that.”

Since he was defending me and all, I bit back my comment about how I was right freaking here. Same way I stifled the sudden ache in my core at the gravelly timbre of his voice when he said my name.

It was deeper. Lower.

Filled with a possessive edge that left no room for argument.

Nobody called me Natalia, either. Heat pools low in my gut, my nipples strain against the confines of my dress, and I’d give anything for a fan to cool my face.

It must be the bond.

My shallow breaths saw in and out of my mouth, my gravitational pull adjusting to Diego De la Cruz’s wake, and I couldn’t stop staring at his sculpted jaw—even though he’s still centimeters away from puncturing my mother’s life-giving vein.

Andromeda’s not threatening him or the pack or flinging her magic around like I expected. She’s stone-fucking silent, and it’s utter bliss, vampires and werewolf groom notwithstanding.

“And I’m bored,” Riven says, but their magnetism no longer causes a blip of a blip. My ovaries are performing a drumline routine, my fixation on Diego’s mouth—fangs and all—growing more and more distracting.

Diego flings my mother away from him, not gentle or mannerly, not an ounce of goodwill. Without taking his gaze off the gathered group in front of him, he extends a hand, stretching long fingers in my direction.

Without a second thought, I take hold, practically floating to his side as he anchors me against him. It’s odd for our bodies to be so in sync when he’s still looking at me like I’m a burden he’s now forced to attend to.

“Tell us more,” he instructs the vampires, and I sink my teeth into my lower lip, studying the dark scruff that perfectly frames his lips.

I hate him, I hate him, I—Goddess help me, he’s brutishly beautiful.

The warmth of his body seeps into me, leaving me a tad breathless and dizzy.

Andromeda’s wrath is aimed directly at me again, but with Diego’s protective arm around me, I can’t bring myself to worry or even care about the consequences. I’m no longer hers, and it’s odd to feel so bound and so free all at once.

“It complicates things that she’s so unaware,” Helena says, the scowl she aims at me eerily similar to my mother’s.

“That’s me,” I mutter. “Disappointing supernatural creatures everywhere with my lack of power.”

“Lack of power?” Riven gives a mirthless laugh. “Hardly.”

They slink closer, and Diego’s steely fingers grip my hip in a possessive show that causes a pulse between my thighs. It’d be great if my body would stop reacting in ways I can’t help. Given the choice between the wolves or the vamps, I’m not sure who I’d pick, but the choice has been taken from me anyway.

“Do you really not know?” Riven pauses their steps at Diego’s low growl, the corner of their mouth quirking as they raise their hands in the classic surrender stance. “Down, boy. I’m no threat to your bride. Not tonight, anyway.”

Every line of Diego’s body snaps tight, and I swear I feel the nip of claws at my waist.

I have the oddest urge to spin in his arms and soothe the storm; except I have no idea what my groom likes or doesn’t like, only I land more on the latter than the former.

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