Page 60 of My Hexed Honeymoon

As the vampire I’m choking out tugs against the tether, fingers scrabbling for a rope he can’t see, I feel his struggle.

No, Ibask in it.

I wind that rope around my fist and yank, watching with glee as it begins to lacerate his throat, black ichor spilling down his front.

He drops to his knees, writhing and choking on his own gore.

See, I think at the darkness.I don’t need you to teach me how to bring my enemies to their knees.

Yes,the shadows answer,but it’s only by fully embracing your power that you’ll be able to unlock your destiny.

After a beat that’s forever and a blip, a twisted sort of delight floods our connection.Shall we put you to the test, then?

My heart skitters, forgetting how to beat. I so want to be strong enough—to earn praise and tap into my true power.

But I don’t want to be my mother.

My failures flicker like a lowlights reel in my head, and suddenly I’m recounting how many tests of hers I failed.

How much I disappointed her.

I lose my focus not only on the realm where Diego’s still fighting five of the vampires. It’s all I can do to use the rope that once felt so strong to string the vampire up in a tree. In that moment, fury burning so bright through me, I would’ve kept tugging on that rope until I sliced clean through his throat if I could.

I’m still not strong enough.

Shit, now both worlds are growing hazy.

Smoke stings my eyes and obscures my vision. I tell myself I’m breathing oxygen back in my realm, so I don’t need to worry about the wheeze and strain in my lungs in the shadow realm.

But it’s not working.

Without warning, I’m the me I don’t want to be—hair wild, eyes glowing with madness like my mother’s did as she burned villages.

My face is twisted into something vicious. Fire swirls behind me. People scream.

I feel merriment, with a side of exhilarating power.

My mother’s voice echoes in the smoke, except it’s coming fromme.

Let them burn,I say, and I’m fairly certain I’m speaking in both realms now.Survival and power aren’t given; they’re taken.

“Natalia! Come back to me.” Diego’s voice is so far away, but the tug of the mate bond is impossible to ignore.

I stumble a few steps, but then my werewolf suffers a huge blow—a fucking sword driven into his back. As he staggers closer to me and the pocket of space he’s kept me protected in, I see the grisly gash that splits open his snout.

No!

I yell it, but it doesn’t make a sound.

With a roar, I gather my power as well as every golden thread I can get my hands on. I form a curved blade like a scythe, all I have to do is drive it into a shriveled vampire heart.

I look at Riven, thinking of the double-crossing and how they got us into this mess and pretended to be my friend. How they forced me into a place filled with nightmares, forcing me to take all the risk only to turn around and betray us.

Theyambushedus.

My survival means their death.

At the bottom of my blade, I form a long chain to help me swing my weapon around, turning it into a kusarigama from anime—a lethally tipped whip I can defend myself with.

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