Page 47 of Hungry As Her Python

We’d stripped down to nothing.

No clothes. No jewelry. No hair ties.

Even my lucky cupcake-print ankle socks had been sacrificed to the ritual.

Naked magic was potent magic—something about energy flow and unimpeded channels.

Plus, the Goddess had a sense of humor about cellulite.

Or so I prayed.

The moment Donny’s fingers snapped and the fire roared to life in a ribbon of shimmering pink flame, the air grew heavy with heat and power.

It licked over my skin, raising goosebumps, the scent of woodsmoke and ozone wrapping around us like an embrace.

“I just want to reiterate Jaxson has a big dong,” Evie muttered, eyes closed like she was talking to the Goddess herself.

I cracked one eye open. “Shhh!” I hissed. “Some of us are trying to focus.”

Because if I lost concentration and accidentally pictured our Wolf Shifter Sheriff’s alleged endowment while I was channeling magic, the wards might just start humming Barry White.

“Ryan does too,” Donny whispered, her voice all faux-innocence, like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing to my concentration.

“Ohmyfuckinggawd,” I growled, literally growled, as pink sparks fizzed and popped off my fingertips.

My magic wasn’t subtle—it was basically a glitter cannon with a temper.

“Fine. Yes. Your boyfriends have massive wieners, okay?”

“Eww. Don’t say wiener,” Evie said, her nose wrinkling like I’d just dumped a can of sardines in her smoothie.

I dropped my arms, turning toward them with my tatas swaying in the evening breeze like I was about to stage a naked protest.

“By the Goddess, okay! Fine. No to the word wieners. How about penises when referring to your mates’ nethers?”

“She said penises,” Donny snorted, shoulders shaking, eyes still closed like she was somehow still meditating through her laughter.

“Fine! No to penises,” I snapped, though my lips were twitching. “Then how about this: your dudes have dongs—not regular dongs—but MEGLADONGS. There. Happy now? Can we get on with this, you heifers?”

That was when Evie just stared at me.

Wide-eyed.

Mouth hanging open like she’d just witnessed a Coven elder say glass dildo at the Harvest Feast.

Donny didn’t even try to hide her laughter this time—she let it out in one loud, Witch-cackle snort.

Which was exactly when a jagged streak of pink lightning ripped across the sky.

The hair on my arms stood up.

The fire crackled like it had been insulted.

Uh-oh.

I knew that sound.

That feeling.