Page 22 of Bewitched (Hexes and Fangs: Holiday Editions #1)

"The tattoo is misplaced."

I stitch a puppet while we stroll in the woods. I still need a handful of leaves to fill it out, and Nox… he mentioned he has a task to tackle in the graveyard. So that is where we are heading.

"Hmm?" My fingers move deftly, looping thread through each punctured hole as if binding thoughts into physical form. The memories of us having sex should work just fine. The shape emerges—rough at first, yet unmistakably Nox. I stretch up for his hair and take a strand from his head.

"Ouch."

The hair tucked beneath the layers adds an intimate connection.

"The ‘I bite’ tattoo is too low."

I pause and look up at him.

"It is not." I extend my hand in front of me to examine the doll. "It looks just like you." I mastered a new skill. The rush of satisfaction burns my insides. I smile.

"Creepy as shit." He resumes his walk, the shovel balanced on his shoulder.

"He’s cute."

"So that makes me... cute."

"Know your limits."

Each step sinks slightly into the soft ground, muffled by layers of fallen leaves.

The towering trees stand like sentinels, their gnarled roots weaving through the undergrowth like veins.

As the path winds closer to the graveyard, a quiet stillness settles in.

The gravestones peek through the mist, worn by time, their inscriptions softened by the sun and rain.

A gentle breeze stirs, carrying the faint aroma of old stone and wet grass.

The weight of the shovel presses into his hands, and I know he doesn’t feel it.

As the blade bites into the earth, its soil dense and damp, it clings to the metal edge.

Each thrust sends a dull thud through the silence, the rhythmic scrape of steel against the earth echoing between the weathered tombstones.

The ground yields, clumps breaking apart.

His muscles coil and flex, power rippling through his arms and back as the dirt piles beside him.

I watch his tattoos. Death dances through a gallery of haunting images.

They cascade like waves, from his neck, chest, arms, legs, on his back.

Death intertwines with his skin, telling tales of what only he knows.

I need his blood. I know, I know…

"Digging your own grave?" I am sitting on a tombstone, right leg crossed. The doll perched on my lap.

"Don’t believe I won’t take you with me.

" He stops digging. Crouches and starts to hunt for the bone, I suppose, with his hands. The soil clings stubbornly to the shape beneath, damp earth packed tightly around its form. His fingers pry gently at its edges, the dirt crumbles away in uneven clumps, revealing something pale beneath the surface. He smiles. The bone emerges slowly, its texture rough and weathered. A final tug separates it from the ground’s grasp.

He throws it on the grass and climbs out from the hole.

His foot pushing the dirt back inside it.

"What do you need bones for?"

"Making dildos for you."

I roll my eyes. "Did you kill him or her?"

"Probably."

"You don’t know?"

"I did not make it to their funerals to find out where they are buried."

"Gravestones bear names."

"I didn’t ask that either."

My pupils shift upward, dragging my gaze toward the sky and he laughs at my eye-roll.

I pull a pin from my hair and jab the doll’s heart with it.

Nox collapses to the ground as shadows stretch around him.

The bone drops from his hand, resting silently beside him.

What??? I didn’t even put the spell on the doll.

I stand up and run to him. I sink my knees into the dirt and clutch Nox’s shoulders in my hands, shaking him.

"Nox! Nox, wake up!" Hoovering above him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Nothing.

The serenity clinging stubbornly to his skin.

"Nox, wake the hell up!" I try again, my words curling like threads, winding their way into the depths of nothing.

"What the fuck?" I shake him again. My patience wavers.

The darkness clings to the air, thick and suffocating.

I reach out, my fingers trembling as I place them on his chest—a hesitant push.

No response. A chill slithers down my spine.

My heartbeat picks up, urgency flooding my veins.

Is this it? I just killed him… "Wake up!

" My voice is barely a breath, edged with growing desperation.

I sprint back to the doll and remove the pin from its heart.

Nothing. I kneel again close to him, ear pressed against his chest. The stillness echoes—no heartbeat.

"Nox, please! I need you!" His posture remains still, rigid.

I can dump his body into the hole he already dug. I know it’ll make Zilla proud.

"I knew it!" He opens his eyes and captures my entire body, pulling me onto him.

He spins me onto the ground, his entire form above me.

My eyes widen instinctively, flickering disbelief.

A sharp inhale rushes through my parted lips, words failing to form as emotions crash like a wave.

He peers down at me, his hands applying pressure on my wrists, into the ground.

His hair is dangling in pretty, black waves. "I knew it."

"What the fuck?" I try to move my hands but he’s too strong. He leans in. Lips close to mine. The smoky scent has already been absorbed by my skin. He parts his lips and coils his tongue upward. The twin piercings from underneath his tongue tenderly skim my lower lip. I smile and bite them. He moans. You want to play, bat boy? Let’s play. I clench my teeth together. "Hmm?"

He lets out what sounds like a laugh. I tug at them and I can sense the sugary, metallic flavor of his blood. I let go.

"Hot." His word ignites my thighs.

"Bite me."

He lifts his brow at me.

"I want our blood mixed in our mouths."

Desire courses through us like an electric current. Our breath quickens, shallow yet controlled, betraying the tension simmering in our veins. His eyes darken. He holds them on me longer than usual.

"If I taste you…"

"You will stop when I say it, or I’ll kill you."

"You won’t kill me."

"I will never have sex with you again." He kisses me.

I put the tip of my tongue on his fang and nudge it to its edge.

A sting. And our tastes fuse in our mouths.

Nox presses his chest against mine. His hands glide from my wrists to my jaws, anchoring me in place.

As he leans in, he savors me, tasting me.

He breaks the kiss, our blood seeping down his lips and chin. I lick it and swallow.

"You need me?"

"Asshole." He smiles at me. "I need you to eliminate those who will not cooperate."

"And satisfy you."

"That too."