Page 74 of My Hexed Honeymoon

The day I challenged Conall for alpha I’d cursed my shitty luck. I didn’t know that the fight would bring me something I wanted even more than leadership.

I didn’t know that in that moment, I’d become the luckiest bastard in the world.

Because it brought me Talia.

Andromeda’s voice cuts through the chaos, a venomous chanting that makes me want to stuff those words back down her throat, along with something sharp and pointy.

Setting Talia gently on the ground, I don’t think, I attack.

I barrel into her, my head colliding with her shoulder as I pounce. It surprises her enough that the loom flies from her hands.

There’s no time to celebrate, as she flings up a palm that glows green, and suddenly it’s like my blood’s forgotten how to pump through my body.

But then Andromeda’s head jerks to the right, her eyes going wide.

Through the ice that’s seized not only my veins, but is slowly spreading through my entire body, I follow her gaze with a sidelong glance.

Talia’s dragged herself through dirt and mud, leaving behind a crimson trail that floods me with grief that hasn’t fully hit yet, but still feels like a thousand tiny deaths.

Andromeda shrieks and lunges at her daughter, her split attention freeing me from whatever spell she put on me.

Hugging the loom tight, pinning it between her chest and the ground, Talia screams, “Please, I need you to help me.”

I’m opening my mouth to ask her how, ready to do whatever she needs.

The air in the entire valley shifts, the ground rumbling beneath our feet. The constant cling and clang of metal stops as everyone has to focus on remaining upright.

While I’ve seen the hazy outlines of what Talia does with her magic before, this is different. It must be the amplification of the loom. Every tree, every plant, every blade of grass shimmers.

I blink my watering eyes, struggling to keep them open as she gathers the beams of churning, woven gold. They dance toward her like happy tornadoes, seemingly bending to her will.

There are a lot of dropped jaws, mine included.

Andromeda’s as well, I notice with glee. There’s genuine fear of her daughter in her eyes, and that’s even sweeter.

Golden vines whip outward from Talia with renewed strength and force; the air around usshudders.

Vampires are beginning to retreat, unsure of what’s happening.

Not that any of the werewolves know, we’re just not fucking cowards.

Then it’s Jack and the Beanstalk time as more vines explode near the cluster of witches that’ve remained in a protected pocket closer to the house. Their faces are all lifted to the sky, their gazes fixed on the clouds.

Ah, they must be casting the spell responsible for the dome of darkness.

Riven’s in front of them, acting as guard and protector.

Assuming a defensive stance, the vampire advances in our direction.

Talia forms a web around the vampire, leaving them struggling against the golden fibers as if they’re sticky. My bride spins a finger, and the threads instantly obey. They wind Riven round and round, their smug expression completely gone as they become a fly trapped in a web.

They’re airborne in the next instant, the sticky clump hitting the trunk of the nearest tree hard enough the crunch echoes through the valley.

Stuck and fighting against their sticky restraints, Riven begins swearing up a storm, and I can’t help the grin tugging my lips—they definitely had that coming.

But Talia doesn’t linger, quickly turning her attention back on the witches.

She raises a thick vine in front of the cluster of them, and a few of them stop chanting to gape up at it. With a flick of her wrist, Talia sends it into the six witches like a monstrous, gleaming backhand, and they go flying.

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