Page 56 of Hexy Beast

Effie Sherwood, who made WitchyGram’s top ten most brazen list, is blushing and speechless and fucking smitten.

I blame the moon, but I know that’s not just all there is to it. That bond between us, it isn’t just because of the great sex. I’ve had fantastic orgasms before and kept my wits about me.

But with Darius? That is becoming a different story.

Even worse? The fated mates bond theory of Aunt Artemis’s that I didn’t want to believe is real is starting to feel stronger and more solid with every hour that passes.

And even the idea of leaving Arcadia and Darius in a month when our marriage of convenience ends makes my stomach clench.

I can’t explain it.

I don’t understand it.

I’m damn sure not happy about it, but I can’t deny the truth.

My upcoming nuptials may be fake, but the fact that I’m falling for Darius Aetos is terrifyingly real.

Chapter Twenty-One

Effie…

We crest the top of the hill behind Hylo and Nessus and look down into the Pholoe Valley. It’s like looking into paradise. The foliage is tropical. The birds are colorful. The skies are blue. There’s only a touch of humidity in the air. It’s eighty-three and sunny—and it feels like it always is. Plus, there is a waterfall—or more correctly, a winefall (yes, there is a river of rosé running down the mountain) on the northern side.

It’s absolutely gorgeous and it makes zero sense.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper to Darius, because I’m not sure if Nessus would be offended at my confusion. “How is this in the middle of the Arcadia woods?”

“It’s not,” he says with a grin. “They move, remember?”

I do recall that, but this is different. This isn’t the woods turning on its axis. It’s dumping us out next to the home of the centaurs, which is on a whole different latitude. Yeah, I’ve lived my whole life around magic, but at least it has rules that make sense (well, mostly) in the world of witches.

“You know,” I say, still trying to take it all in, “it would be nice if this place stuck to any of the laws of physics.”

“It can be a lot, Effie of the Sherwoods,” Hylo says, not unsympathetically. “Just remember that if you are offered any food or drink to politely decline.”

I turn my head around, whip-quick, to face Darius. “Is it poison?”

I mean, come on, that’s the logical assumption, right? I’m not alone here.

“Worse,” Darius says, shooting Nessus a snarky look. “It traps you in Pholoe.”

The prince rolls his eyes, and his tail flicks from side to side with annoyance. “We prefer to say you become a permanent guest of the queen unless she deigns to release you,” Nessus says.

“I’ve already been kidnapped once this week,” I say, doing a sidestep shuffle until I’m hip to hip with my so-called kidnapper. “I think I’ll pass on the food and drink.”

“Our loss,” Nessus says with a wink, which sets off Darius’s back-off-asshole growl. “Oh, calm your tits, Darry. I’m just busting your chops.”

Darius and I stay on the edge of the overlook while the two centaurs trot over to a tall oak tree that sits on the border of the old-growth Aetos woods and the tropical paradise of Pholoe. Hylo presses what looks to be a knot in the trunk. The spot starts glowing, and a keypad appears, telling a different story. I tell you, just when you start to think you know everything about Witchingdom, electronic locks hidden in old trees make an appearance.

“So, how did you and the prince become friends?” I ask as I watch Hylo input what has to be a number string with at least three dozen digits.

Darius gazes over toward Pholoe, a bittersweet smile on his face. “When I was ten, I was sent here as a ward of the Court after a poorly thought-out attack by my father on a centaur hunting party.”

I try to imagine what it would have been like to leave my family at ten as what is for all intents and purposes a hostage. Sure, a ward has more rights than a normal hostage, but the end circumstances are the same. Even if you’re a prisoner in a gilded cage, you’re still a prisoner.

I intertwine my fingers with his and squeeze his hand. “How long did you stay?”

“Five years,” he says, his jaw tight. “One year for each of the centaurs who’d been injured in the attack that had left two dozen werewolves dead. I had my first full moon change here, and it was where I learned to leash my wolf. It was a unique experience for a werewolf.”