Page 73 of My Hexed Honeymoon

My soldiers are bloodied, staggering, and barely clinging to consciousness. We've been fighting tooth and claw, taking out vampires and regenerating as much as we could before taking on more.

There were so many more.

But even with our thinning number of werewolves, I should’ve never let her out of my sight. It was too big a job for Elias and Gideon; I should’ve realized that.

Then I find her—my wife and my mate—locked in battle against the monster who birthed her.

My pulse races with an optimism I haven’t felt since that second platoon of vampires charged over the ravine—Natalia has the Blood Loom in her hands. If she can use it to amplify her powers, maybe we can turn the tide yet.

I’d really rather not end my first battle as Alpha in surrender. It’s not just pride, though that’s definitely at play. And since the vampires and witches don’t believe in clemency, that means we’ll have to flee.

Just like Conall and I had to do when we were boys.

Squinting my eyes, I catch the flash of a blade. The hilt is gripped in Andromeda’s fist, and my heart ceases beating when I see the dagger protruding from Talia’s belly.

Her mother pulls it out, revealing a wicked, serrated edge coated with fresh blood.

Talia’s blood.

“No!” I roar, the sound tearing from my throat like a clap of thunder.

I sprint toward her as fast as I can, paws barely touching the gore-slicked ground as I cut down vampire after vampire. I’m a hurricane of fury and claws drenched in black ichor, my vision bathed red with rage.

As I near Sasquatch, I point in the direction I’m headed and shout, “It’s Talia! I need to get to her now.”

Thick, tar-colored blood coats his hands and his arms, enough that you can no longer see the steel of his blade. He’s the best warrior I have, and he leaps into action instantly.

Swinging his massive ax with brutal precision, our resident Viking cuts a path I continue to run to the woman I love.

Blood arcs through the air like ink, vampire limbs littering the ground in Sasquatch’s wake. Still, it’s a fucking eternity before we reach Talia.

And as I take in her pallor and the blood streaming from the wound in her abdomen, I’m afraid we’re too late. “Natalia!”

Andromeda rips the loom from her hands and holds it up to the river of bright red blood, a color that signifies a major artery’s been struck.

I’m filled with a sinking sense of denial and despair as the loom gulps up the liquid, as thirsty and insatiable as a dying man in the desert.

I grit my jaw so hard my fangs pierce my muzzle. I’ll rip that witch’s head from her body and use it for a bowling ball for what she’s done.

She lifts it in the air with a victorious cry as it begins throbbing with otherworldly light.

I reach Talia right as she drops to her knees, the golden vines dancing around her mere minutes ago recoiling like they’ve been wounded as well.

I catch her in my arms as she slumps over, too weak to hold herself up anymore. My eyes blur with the sting of tears as I cradle her against me, pressing my palm to her stomach in a futile attempt to apply enough pressure and hold her together.

Blood seeps into my shirt, warm and sticky, and if she dies on this battlefield, so will I.

Panic inundates my system as the golden tether that’s connected us since our wedding flickers, a candle about to go out.

“Talia,” I choke out. “Stay with me. Stay with me, baby.”

She’s everything I never knew I wanted and needed, this stubborn, sarcastic witch who never backed down from a fight—at least not one that involved me. The woman was basically exiled from her own people, sent to a community primed to distrust her, and yet she still carried herself with kindness and dignity.

I used to think love was for the weak, a distraction for men who were willing to set aside their power.

But I was wrong.

Keeping Talia safe, whether in this world or when she was off being a badass in other realms—caring for her and havingsomeone love me for me—made me a hundred times more powerful. More powerful than I’ve ever been.

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