Page 96 of Hungry As Her Python

I smiled, feeling the decision settle deep in my bones.

“I mean it, Big Guy.”

The corner of his mouth curved in a slow, sinful smile.

“Then let’s go home so I can finally claim you, Sugar.”

And just like that, I was ready to take the leap.

Tonight.

No magic spell, no divine sign—just me, my Snake Shifter, and a leap of faith towards a future that suddenly didn’t feel so scary.

Chapter Twenty-Nine-Conrad

I still couldn’t believe it. This whole time cats were behind every attempted arson and vandalization.

Not rival Shifters.

Not a Dark Witch Coven.

Or Supernatural Assassins.

Cats.

But as Bella and I walked arm in arm down the moonlit street, the air still thrumming faintly from the magic she’d unleashed, it made a twisted kind of sense.

Displaced familiars whipped up into a frenzy over some half-baked belief that only felines could serve as true companions to Witches.

Jealousy, pride, and bad information—a dangerous mix in any species.

“I still can’t believe they targeted me,” Bella mused.

“You know, the three of you are pretty famous in the supernatural world, Sugar,” I told her, squeezing her hand, needing her to know this wasn’t just some small-town witch drama. “I’d heard of the Witch Trifecta before. I just never knew I’d be fated to one of you.”

She tipped her head, her eyes searching mine, curious and wary all at once.

“And? How do you feel about that?”

I stopped us cold, turning so the lamplight hit her face, dusted with flour like stardust on warm skin.

My chest ached, my Python coiling tighter in my gut.

“I feel positively honored, sweet Bella. You’re my mate. The only woman to ever call to my Python. I know it’s soon, and you’re a Witch, not a Shifter—it’s different for you. But I love you. I will wait as long as it takes for you to accept my claim.”

Her lips parted, the soft pink glistening in the cool night air.

“That might be sooner than you think,” she whispered—and then her mouth was on mine.

The second our lips touched, the bond surged between us like a live wire.

Her magic slid into my senses—warm and sweet, smelling faintly of sugar, vanilla, lemony citrus, and something older, wilder.

It didn’t just brush me.

It wrapped me up, tangling through my veins, stroking over every nerve ending until I felt drunk on her.

By the time we reached her home, made it to her bedroom, I was already half feral with need.