Page 94 of A Witchy Spell Ride

“Leave,” I told him softly.

“For now,” he hissed, and that was the first honest thing he’d said all night. He stepped back, slow. He turned. He walked out with his shoulders square, the posture of a man who can’t afford to look weak to himself.

When the door clicked shut behind him, the room exhaled. Not relief. Readiness.

Selene’s hand found my wrist and pressed once, small, and strong. “You, okay?” she asked me, the audacity of it making something in me want to laugh and drop to a knee at the same time.

“I am,” I said. “You?”

“I’m excellent,” she said, and for a second, I saw her in the mirror the way she had seen herself—powerful, unafraid, hers.

Cross’s voice buzzed in my ear. “He went to the lot. Van. Passenger side. He’s not leaving.”

“Good,” Reaper said quietly. “Let him watch for a while.”

“We’ll finish this,” I said to Selene.

“On our terms,” she returned, lifting her chin.

I took my position again, a step off her left, and the stillness before the strike shifted into something else, something like a promise humming in wire. Violence hadn’t come yet. It would.

When it did, we were ready.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Selene

I dressed like a goddamn goddess.

Because why not?

Let the bastard see exactly what he’d never have.

A deep red corset cinched at my waist, black lace gloves to the elbow, a velvet skirt with a slit so high it made grown men stutter. I painted my mouth blood-red, dusted my collarbones with a whisper of glitter, and slipped a small golden crown into my hair like a final fuck-you to fear.

“Damn,” Briar breathed from behind me, adjusting her skull choker. “You’re gonna cause heart attacks in a three-mile radius.”

“That’s the plan,” I said, popping my lips once to set the stain.

“You want the witch blade in your boot?”

“Already there.” I hiked the slit and flashed the hilt. “Left side. And the backup in the jacket seam Ghost insisted on.”

She grinned, all teeth and loyalty. “Proud of you, babe.”

“Don’t make me cry, I just did my liner.”

She flicked a silver charm against my crown, a ward we both pretended did nothing and knew didsomething.“Queen it is.”

When we stepped into the main room of the clubhouse, it was chaos. Exactly how it should be.

Skulls, chains, neon lights dripping from the rafters. The bar was decked with glowing bottles and fake blood shots Daisy labeled Type O(mazing). Vex was already three drinks deep and trying to convince Firefly to let him DJ. Bones was body-blocking the pumpkin-smashing contest with the solemnity of a bouncer at a church. Ash was judging costumes like a pageant mom. Reaper was… brooding. As usual. Though his eyes cut to Briar every few seconds like she might combust if left unattended.

But Ghost?

Ghost was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.

And the look he gave me—