Page 21 of Bewitched By the Voodoo King (The Bewitching Hour #7)

I stared at my flushed cheeks in the mirror and let out a shaky breath.

Dinner was everything Rune promised he would show me and more.

There were even a few coven members seated nearby who came to talk and peer closely at me.

Rune didn’t seem to mind, just as he hadn’t when we had gone to get beignets.

It was weird… but in the most magical way.

The food was the most incredible thing I’d ever tasted, and we had crème br?lée on the way to the table now. I closed my eyes as I thought of the way Rune’s eyes had darkened as he watched me across from him. I didn’t know if this was a good thing or a bad thing just yet.

The stall slammed open behind me, and I startled. I hadn’t realized anyone had been in here with me. I moved away from the sink and dried my hands. I was just about to move toward the door when the person stepped in my way.

“Excuse me,” I said politely.

The woman crossed her arms. “You’re that new witch.”

I was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to say witch with the tone she used.

I straightened and looked the woman in the eye.

She didn’t look familiar, but that didn’t mean anything.

There were many people in the coven I hadn’t met yet, and I was sure that I wouldn’t know all of them for years to come.

New Orleans coven was massive, and many of the witches that were a part of it didn’t even live in the city, which completely baffled me.

“My name is Maple,”

Her dark red lips curled as she looked me up and down with bright golden eyes. Her skin was paler than mine, and she was also a good two feet taller than me, it seemed. “Of course it is. Maple. How adorable.”

“Can I help you?”

She leaned down to my level. “Babette was in line to be the Voodoo Queen. The new matriarch. You stole that from her, and she doesn’t take kindly to others taking what rightfully belongs to her.”

My brows rose on my forehead, and I felt myself straighten up a bit. “Babette? She was dating Rune?”

The woman rolled her eyes and bobbed her head. “Dating? They were going to get married.”

My heart gave a little stutter. Married?

No. Rune would’ve said something. Wouldn’t he?

I swallowed and lifted my chin. “Well, Rune has the right to make his own choices.”

Her smile sharpened. “He does. And he did. Until you showed up with big, innocent eyes and little frame. You think just because he’s taking you out for dinner and beignets, you mean something?”

I said nothing. Mostly because I didn’t think it would actually matter. Women like this would always try to win, and sometimes you had to pick and choose your battles.

She stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her perfume—sickly sweet with something sharp underneath, like honeysuckle and blood .

“Let me give you a little advice, Maple,” she hissed. “Coven politics are like tarot cards. You might be dealt something shiny, but it doesn’t mean it was meant for you. Rune? He’s not your fate. He’s a storm you’ll drown in.”

My fingers curled around the strap of my clutch as I stared the woman down. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I know how to swim.”

She blinked, clearly not expecting that.

I sidestepped her and reached for the door, but her voice followed me.

“Babette won’t let this go,” she said, almost sing-song. “She doesn’t lose. Not to girls like you.”

I paused with my hand on the doorframe and turned back just enough to meet her gaze.

“Then maybe she shouldn’t have let him go in the first place.”

I turned on my heel to leave the bathroom. When I reached our table, I realized the crème br?lée had been delivered, and Rune’s expression was concerned. “Is everything okay?”

I tried my best to plaster on a happy smile, but I knew it didn’t reach my eyes. “Yep, and that looks delicious.”

I didn’t wait for him and immediately dug into the dessert with fervour. Anything to keep me from blabbing about what happened in the bathroom. I didn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation because I knew the Babette fan club had to be listening in somewhere nearby.

He polished off the fruit while I enjoyed the hard sugared topping.

He was still watching me, spoon idle in his hand. “Maple.”

“Mhm?” I replied around a mouthful of caramelized sugar.

“You’re lying.”

I froze for a beat too long, then forced a swallow and shrugged. “About what? I love crème br?lée.”

“About being okay.”

I set the spoon down gently and leaned back in my chair, eyes flicking to the nearby tables. Two witches were definitely eavesdropping while pretending to argue over wine lists. “I’m great. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is it the food?” He frowned as he looked down at the mostly gone dessert.

I shook my head and continued to smile as if nothing was bothering me. “Not at all. Nothing is wrong.”

His jaw worked as he watched me. “The light that radiates from you has dimmed significantly, and I want to make sure it wasn’t something I did.”

I blinked. “Light?”

“You usually radiate joy and warmth, but when you came out of the bathroom… I don’t know… you seemed almost cold. Which isn’t something I’ve ever witnessed from you, and that's saying something, especially with the way I treated you when you got here.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t do this here. “It’s nothing.”

His eyes narrowed slightly before he nodded. “Okay, are you ready to go? I would love to show you some of the decor in the French Quarter as the city prepares for Halloween.”

The night wasn’t humid, thank the ancestors.

I wouldn’t have been able to survive another night sweating like I had been.

It was nice to be on a date with a guy I wanted to kiss and not worry if I smelled like BO.

Rune wove his fingers through mine as jazz filtered through the night, and I felt like my heart was up somewhere above us on cloud 9.

No matter what that bitch had said in the bathroom, my heart and my head…

and my body were feeling all of the things.

We walked hand in hand down the cobbled streets, the gas lamps casting long shadows across the buildings.

Wrought iron balconies were strung with purple and orange lights, and gauzy ghosts danced in the breeze from second-story windows.

Somewhere down the block, a saxophone crooned out a haunting version of “I Put a Spell on You.”

Rune gave my fingers a gentle squeeze. “Do you like it?”

“The decorations?” I glanced around, smiling despite myself. “It’s like a haunted house and a gumbo pot had a baby. I love it.”

He chuckled. “I was hoping you’d say something like that. Halloween is kind of a big deal around here. The veil gets thinner, and even the skeptics start watching their shadows.”

“That sounds vaguely threatening,” I teased.

“Oh, it is,” he said with a straight face. “But also festive.”

I laughed, the last bit of tension finally slipping from my shoulders. The earlier confrontation still lingered in the corners of my mind, but Rune was warm beside me, and right now, that was all that mattered.

“You really don’t know what you are, do you?” he asked suddenly.

I blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“That light I talked about,” he said, turning toward me just enough that his eyes caught the lamp glow. “You think it’s just your personality. But it’s more than that. It’s magic. Old magic. It pulls people in. It pulled me in.”

Heat spread across my chest even though he was wrong.

There was no magic inside of me, but I couldn’t admit that, not yet.

He made promises that I would never be an outcast in his eyes, but he also didn’t know the truth.

So instead of getting in my feelings about it, I made my tone light and playful. “Are you saying I enchanted you?”

“I’m saying I didn’t stand a chance.”

I stopped walking, my heart thundering inside my chest. “Rune…”

He stepped in front of me, and his eyes flicked to my lips. “I know we said slow. And I meant it. But I’m also not going to lie to you.”

My breath caught as he leaned in, just close enough for me to feel the ghost of his lips against mine.

“I want to kiss you.”

A heartbeat. Two .

“Then do it,” I whispered.

Cue intrusive thoughts. And then I panicked.

Did my breath smell like garlic? I’d scarfed down an obscene amount of gumbo for a woman my size, and I was sure it was a feat to watch, but now I worried it had made me stink…

oh ancestors, then I’d scarfed down the creme br?lée too…

Why hadn’t I brought a breath mint? Was my mouth a war zone of sugar and spice?

What if he leaned in and immediately regretted every life choice that led him to this moment?

What if he recoiled?

What if I burped?

Rune’s lips brushed mine, and every single intrusive thought went right out the window.

His lips were warm and reverent at first, like he was memorizing the shape of me.

But then his hand slid around my waist, and I rose up on my toes, and the kiss deepened into something far more dangerous.

It was nothing like the frantic kisses I’d experienced in the woods or under the stairwell when no one was looking.

When he finally pulled away, everything inside me felt dimmer—like he’d taken my light with him.

Strangely, I didn’t mind.

If he needed my light… I didn’t see why I couldn’t share.