Page 48 of Hungry As Her Python

That warning.

Somewhere, the Goddess was side-eyeing me.

And if I wasn’t careful, my next batch of croissants was going to spontaneously combust just to teach me a lesson.

That pink lightning bolt still sizzled in my memory when I muttered a quick apology to the Goddess and cleared my throat.

Any more distractions and we’d be rolling around the clearing in a fit of naked giggles until sunrise.

That wasn’t exactly the kind of magic we were here to make.

“Okay, back to business,” I said, shaking my head and clapping my hands together before the two of them could launch another sausage-based debate.

Resuming my stance, I started the chant in fluent Ork—thank you, Drusilla Bartholomew Frankenstein Yaganova’s Magical Language Academy Version 3.7, and yes, that’s a real thing.

Troll-Tongue might sound like a curse you’d yell after stubbing your toe, but in our line of work? It got results.

Evie joined in quickly, her voice dropping into the low, thrumming cadence we needed, and Donny fell right in step.

Thank the Goddess—because my mind had been drifting to the exact wrong place. Again.

Ever since Conrad rolled into town with Jaxson and Ryan, I’d been distracted.

And not just in the casual “oh, he’s hot” kind of way.

No, the man had my brain doing gymnastics and my body signing up for events it didn’t even train for.

I could handle sex.

I was good at keeping it fun, uncomplicated. But Conrad wanted more.

Be with me, Bella. Accept my claim.

The first time he’d said that, I’d laughed.

The tenth time, I’d practically sprinted out the back door of my bakery.

The man had to be confused. Sure, we had chemistry—dangerously good chemistry—but fate?

Mating? Forever?

That wasn’t real for everyone.

And it wasn’t part of my story.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

“Bella. Focus.”

Evie’s sharp tone yanked me back, and I shut the door on every image of broad shoulders and sinfully full lips.

I threw myself into the chant and the movement, letting the rhythm push everything else out of my head.

The three of us fell into that perfect, ancient groove.

Our magic braided together—Evie’s gold, Donny’s aqua, my pink—curling upward like a living ribbon around the roaring bonfire.

Sparks shimmered in the air, and the scent of charmed cedar and lilac drifted through the clearing.