Page 14 of Bewitched By the Voodoo King (The Bewitching Hour #7)

A heavenly scent of smoky chestnut and vanilla wrapped around me. I wanted to bury my nose in it and never come out. I let out a soft moan as the silk sheets I was wrapped in rubbed against my body.

The last thing I remembered was kissing… Elias? Had I gone home with him?

My eyes snapped open, and I sat up in the bed. Surprisingly, my head didn’t pound, and my body didn’t feel like it was hit by a train, but then why didn’t I remember the rest of the night?

My eyes skimmed over the room that definitely wasn’t Adelle’s and wasn’t the guest room I’d been placed in.

The room was dark and masculine. Across from the bed was a massive stone hearth that took up the entire wall.

It could easily fit four or five caldrons in it.

A piece of chalk lay discarded on the stone before it, and right beside it was a closed grimoire.

The realization hit me like a splash of cold water, chasing the warmth of silk and smoky scent right out of my bones.

I looked down at the sheets, at the perfectly folded blanket at my feet, and the glass of water on the nightstand.

Someone had taken care of me.

Rune.

This was Rune’s room.

And that scent—ancestors, that scent—it wasn’t cologne. It wasn’t anything I could buy bottled in a perfumery. It was him .

I buried my face in my hands.

I had kissed Elias in the middle of a bar like some wide-eyed tourist, then apparently passed out and was rescued by my brooding, magic-wielding, emotionally unavailable intended.

Kill. Me. Now.

But beneath the mortification, something fluttered in my chest.

Because he hadn’t left me on the floor. He hadn’t dragged me back to the guest room or dropped me off with Adelle. He’d brought me here.

To his room.

To his bed.

He tucked me in like I mattered.

A knock sounded on the heavy door—two firm taps.

“Maple?” came his low voice, calm and unreadable through the thick wood. “You awake?”

I stared at the door, heart thudding.

Yeah. Definitely awake.

Unfortunately.

“Come in,” my voice croaked out.

The door swung open almost hesitantly before he peeked around the side of it. “How are you feeling?”

Where did I even start?

I stared at him in a pair of suit pants and his shirt partially unbuttoned.

I would have been lying to say I didn’t stare at the beautiful abs peeking through.

His dark skin glistened, and I wondered if it was my mind playing tricks on me or if he was slowly trying to seduce me…

Was he getting dressed? Was he getting undressed?

Oh man, had something happened between us the night before?

My face flamed. “Uh.”

His lips twitched into an almost smile. “Don’t worry, nothing happened between you and me, or you and the vampire.”

I blinked at him. “ What? ”

His laugh was deep and beautiful, but also extremely obnoxious given the circumstances. “You didn’t know you were wrapped up in the arms of a vampire last night, did you?”

I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth. “No, not exactly. We don’t really have many of those back at home.”

His brows bounced. “You’ve never met a vampire?”

I shook my head. “Our coven had almost everything we needed, so I was never really sent to town to get things. I don’t know,” I flattened the blankets over my lap.

“Your world is different here. Even if I had gone to town, I doubt I would have ever met anyone who was another supernatural. They don’t exactly care for our kind of witches. ”

He watched me with his light, inhuman eyes, and I felt myself shrink under his unwavering gaze.

“New Orleans is a world of its own. I often forget that. I’m sorry.

But also, you shouldn’t have ever left the compound.

Wolves could have been lurking last night, and I was out and about looking for you two. ”

There it was.

I nodded my head. I didn’t understand his fear, but I also had never been through what they had. What we had done was foolish, though I would never admit it. I got to feel alive for at least a few hours and not like I was under a microscope.

He sighed. “Maple.” He ran a hand down his face.

“I would love for you to experience all of the magic that New Orleans has to offer, but not before we figure out what’s happening with the wolves.

” He chewed on his bottom lip. “One day, I’m going to take you dancing and to the best beignets and do all of the things, but for now, I just need you to be safe, okay? ”

Take me dancing? Show me the magic of New Orleans? What was happening? Had I done something weird last night that I didn’t remember?

“Get dressed,” He nodded toward the end of the bed, where lo and behold, my trunk was waiting. “We need to talk. Meet me in the library after you’re ready.”

My heart did a stupid, fluttery little thing when he said take me dancing . And then it tripped all over itself at beignets.

What was happening?

This was Rune. Stoic. Broody. King of the death magic shadows. The same man who’d practically glared me into silence the day I arrived.

Now he was talking about midnight dances and pastries like we weren’t locked in some tense, borderline-political, fake marriage-for-alliance-sake situation.

And my trunk —my glorious, familiar trunk—was at the foot of the bed like a beacon of home.

The lock on it was forged in magic, thanks to my father.

I held my palm around it, and it unlocked with a soft click .

The smell of home immediately enveloped me as the lid opened, and I sighed.

My clothes were on top, thankfully. I reached in to scoop up as many items as I could, and then clicked the lock back in place.

I cradled the bundle of clothes to my chest and just stood there for a second, breathing it in.

The scent of my favorite lavender sachet drifted up from the layers.

A sharp ache pulsed behind my ribs as I closed my eyes.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed this .

The weight of my own shirts and the softness of worn fabric that had been washed a hundred times by hands that loved me.

I picked a soft cotton dress from the pile—sage green with little embroidered moons along the hem—and tugged it on over my body.

I wanted a shower, but I knew there was no point in trying to squeeze one in.

As much as I wanted to avoid Rune and his important talk, I knew I needed to hear whatever it was.

Plus, I was curious and would have the worst fear of missing out later.

I lingered in the doorway, watching Rune for a moment before announcing my presence.

Rune—death magic royalty, stoic brooding king of furrowed brows—was sunken into a giant navy bean bag like some dark academia burnout. A book rested on one knee, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and the flames from the hearth cast dancing shadows across his sharp jawline.

It should’ve looked ridiculous.

It didn’t.

It looked like something out of a storybook. One of the good ones where the meanie guy softens for the girl who knows how to look past his thorns. I cleared my throat.

His eyes flicked up immediately, and for a second—just a beat—they softened. “Nice dress.”

I blinked. “Thanks. I figured it was perfect for a ‘fake-marriage-library-summoning’ kind of day.”

His mouth curved just slightly, but he didn’t bite back with one of his usual jabs. Instead, he set the book aside and gestured toward the armchair across from him. “Sit.”

I did as I was told and carefully tucked my feet underneath me across from him.

“We need to get to know each other because the longer you’re in this coven and we don’t introduce you…

the higher chance that rebellion will happen.

My people are afraid—rightfully so—and you’re an outsider.

” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner.” He shook his head, and the little golden beads on his locs shimmered in the dim light.

“You deserved a proper welcoming, but instead you got a grief ridden intended and zero introduction to our customs.”

“I wasn’t exactly very understanding. I’ve never lost anyone before.”

He shook his head. “You are meant to have the highest honor in our coven, and I disrespected you. It hit me last night that I’ve been unfair to you.”

I was stunned speechless.

“My people aren’t ready for the marriage contract or to know about why you’re really here, but they need sunshine and light…” He cleared his throat. “They need a reason to be happy, and you are a beacon for it.”

Me?

“Oh my, what did I do last night?” Horror had entered the chat.

Rune huffed out a soft laugh. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” I muttered, hugging a throw pillow to my chest like it might shield me from whatever humiliation was coming next.

“You were… uninhibited,” he said carefully. “And sweet. You made people laugh. You made me laugh.”

My eyes widened. “I made you laugh?”

He actually smiled. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

I narrowed my eyes—suspicious. “So what exactly are you saying? That we parade me around like the coven’s emotional support wife until morale improves?”

“Not exactly,” he said, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m saying... the coven needs a win. A distraction. Something beautiful to focus on instead of what they’ve lost. You being here—being seen, not hidden away—might actually give them hope.”

Hope. That felt like a lot of pressure for someone who couldn’t even light a candle with magic.

“So what would that look like?” I asked cautiously. “Fake dates? Matching outfits? Holding hands in front of everyone at dinner and pretending I don’t want to throttle you half the time?”

He smirked. “I’d settle for a public breakfast and maybe a walk through the market.”

I blinked. “That’s it?”

“For now,” Rune said. “The rest can come later… once we figure each other out. I’m not asking you to play house. I’m asking you to let them see you the way I saw you last night.”

“And how exactly did you see me?” I asked before I could stop myself.

His gaze didn’t waver. “Like you belonged.”

Something cracked quietly inside me—something I hadn’t realized I’d been holding together with metaphorical duct tape and emotional caffeine.

I wanted to tell him he was wrong.

But instead, I just whispered, “Okay.”