Page 2 of Head Witch in Charge (The Sherwood Witches #2)

Yeah, yeah, I get that our family has to consolidate power and build alliances with the other families in Witchingdom to fight the Council.

I understand that each of us has sacrifices to make.

I know it’s my place as the heir to do what’s best for the family no matter what.

Still, you have to admit this is shitty.

And less importantly, but still a factor, is that it sure doesn’t help that my choices for a husband are as dull as they are logical.

Quinton Quince, Wilmont Lumin, and Ommin Zedler are all heirs to families with connections in every part of Witchingdom.

Sure, they don’t have as many ins with powerful people as we do, but the only family that rivals the Sherwoods in that aspect is the Svensens, and marrying someone from that family is never going to happen.

It would be like making a peanut butter and tuna fish sandwich. Objectively awful all around.

The Sherwoods and the Svensens have been archenemies since time immemorial, so there’s no way their heir would make my mom’s list of eligible bachelors.

Plus the Svensen heir, Erik, is a real dick.

He’s the kind of cocky, hot rich guy who always gets exactly what he wants without ever having to work for it.

There quite literally couldn’t be a worse husband choice than him.

I mean, sure, I could be faced with marrying a cursed rock, but at least the rock wouldn’t run off with the family silver like a Svensen definitely would.

So Mom’s choices, dull as they may be, make sense.

However, there’s a part of me that can’t help but think there has to be another way to defeat the Council that doesn’t involve me marrying for political power.

And as long as I can avoid picking a fiancé, I have time to come up with that better solution.

I can do it. I know I can. I just need more time.

Too bad Mom is getting more than a little tired of my deflections whenever she brings up the subject.

“I know an arranged marriage for power reasons doesn’t sound romantic,” Mom says as she snags a miniature chocolate raspberry cake, “but it worked out well for your father and me.”

I sink back in my seat. “But you love each other.”

She chuckles. “We didn’t at first.”

I can’t even imagine that. The two of them are so lovey-dovey.

Mom is always sneaking kisses whenever Dad sits down, since at seven feet tall, he towers over her.

Then Dad lets out his bear-shifter side just enough to say her name with a rough growl, which always makes her giggle.

You can then smell the peanut butter scent of her magic and the grape jelly smell of his for a few seconds before poof!

They’ve magicked to their bedroom. You won’t see them again for at least a few hours.

My parents are not just in love—they are in love .

“I know you’re not very interested in marriage,” Mom says, “but it has to happen eventually, and with all that the Council is up to, it needs to be with someone who will help our alliance. The stakes are too great not to.”

And that was the rub of it.

Unable to deny it, I glance over at the floating photos of my husband choices and sigh.

It’s not like I’m going to walk away from my responsibilities to my family or my obligations to Witchingdom.

The reality is, Mom and I both know I’m going to marry one of those three men because the heir does whatever is necessary to take care of everyone else.

But that doesn’t mean not having a choice doesn’t suck.

Mom lets out a little sigh that doesn’t scream “disappointed,” but definitely whispers it loudly. “You don’t have to pick today, but please promise me you’ll at least think about which bachelor it will be while you’re on your girls’ trip to Las Vegas.”

Yeah, figuring out who to hitch myself to forever is the last thing I want to think about during my girls’ trip.

I love my family, but if I don’t get away and have the opportunity to let my hair down and just be Leona instead of the Sherwood heir for five blissful days and four wine-filled nights, I am going to lose it.

“I’ll try, but we’re going to be busy seeing shows and shopping,” I say, leaving out our plans for day-drinking by the pool, strip-club shenanigans, and playing high-stakes poker. “Kacee made reservations at her favorite restaurants every night.”

“It sounds like fun,” Mom says as she gets up and walks toward my bedroom door. “Just make sure you don’t have too much fun. You’re a Sherwood; people will be watching.”

It’s true. Love the Sherwoods or hate them, everyone in Witchingdom always wants to know the latest family gossip.

I pick up the last scone. “You worry too much.”

Mom raises a brow in an imperious gesture. “I worry just the right amount.”

“Well, you never have to lose sleep over me,” I tell her. “I’m the responsible daughter, remember?”

She smiles, and then poof, she’s gone, leaving the peanut butter scent of her magic lingering in the air.

She’s probably off to her office, where she’ll work on plans to thwart the Council via official government channels.

In a few years, that will be me. But not yet.

In a few hours, I’m going to Vegas, where even a Sherwood gets to relax and just have fun without repercussions.

Really, what’s the worst that could happen? I wake up married? Please. As if.