Page 20 of My Hexed Honeymoon (The Bridgewater Pack #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY

As we pack up camp, there’s a chill in the morning air, but all I have to do to warm up is look over at Diego.

Then I’m reliving how he moved against me, inside me. His warmth, his weight, our pleasure echoing through both of us, amplified by the bond.

I thought it was powerful before, but it’s grown new roots overnight. Deep, insistent roots that’ve entwined my organs and attuned all my senses to him.

It’s incredible, and at the same time, it terrifies me.

He’s rolled up our sleeping bags and tent and is shoving everything in that humongous backpack he carries with ease. I gave it a tug on my way to extinguish the fire we made for this morning’s breakfast, and I couldn’t even get it to budge.

Much like the dew that feeds the pulsating plants around us, I’m refreshed and perkier than I’ve been in years.

I have a renewed sense of purpose that I’m afraid will only be ripped away, leaving me wondering once again if it’s better to build walls or enjoy it while it lasts.

After wiping down the mugs we used for our coffee, I roll them in the cloth and hand them to Diego so he can pile them in his backpack with most everything else.

“Thank you,” he says, letting his fingers drag over mine as he takes it.

Our conversations since unzipping the tent and stepping into the chilly air to prepare for our final day of hiking have been short and concise. Simple, common phrases, like we’re both afraid to say more and break the spell.

Like we didn’t spend the night intimately getting to know each other’s bodies.

We didn’t just release all our built-up sexual tension; we obliterated it. Even with our backs turned, I feel him, that string of magic that connects us constantly pulsing, undeniably stronger than before.

Suddenly his head jerks up, his entire body on alert.

Panic shoots through me, raising my blood pressure along with it. Then it hits me, it’s probably just?—

“Well, well, well.” Our vampire companion materializes at my side, and then Diego is there between us, throwing an arm out as if I need protecting.

Naturally, it only amuses Riven, who waggles their pale eyebrows.

“Happy to have accommodated a romantic evening under the stars. Even happier you two took advantage of it.”

“Thanks for making it as awkward as possible,” I mutter with a shake of my head, and Riven’s musical laughter rings out.

“ Awkward was what you two were doing before—dancing around, wasting all that pent-up energy on the wrong things, fighting when you needed to be fucking.”

“You can stop anytime, you know,” Diego says. “Besides, if anyone’s going full bloodhound, it should be me.”

“Too true. On both counts.” Riven skips over to my tiny backpack and slings it over their shoulder. “Another hour of hiking and we’ll reach the summit. Now that you’ve stopped fighting the mate bond, we can actually use it.”

Over the next two hours, we hiked in mostly silence.

At hour one, when I complained like a little kid about not being there yet, Riven replied they’d forgotten to account for my slow, human pace. Then I had to be offended over being called slow and human, when again, a normal human, no magic or powers, is all I ever wanted to be.

As the trail we’re blazing narrows and inclines, Diego tosses his pack at Riven and demands to piggyback me the rest of the way.

I’m too tired—and too slow, evidently—to protest.

When Riven grouses over the weight of the pack as we get going again, they and Diego get into a spat over who’s the strongest, and in the next instant, I’m not just being carried to the summit, I’m riding sidecar in a supernatural race I never agreed to be part of.

It does the job, though, and we reach the summit within twenty minutes.

While the air is noticeably chillier at this elevation, dropping down to temperatures we’ve only experienced at night, I immediately feel why Riven brought us here.

Magic wells up from the rocks and sings through the trees, the threads I typically see more like a golden rope.

Everywhere I look, there are threads upon threads, twisting up through every blade of grass and buzzing bee.

It’s like tapping directly from the source, and it chases my goosebumps and any thoughts of cold far, far away.

Now I’m humming with both the power and the mate bond, to the point I think someone could charge their phone if they just plugged it into me.

My inner magic surges, ready and waiting. But at the mere thought of ripping apart the threads of our universe to get to the dreary realm between, it screams out a warning.

This is how it starts, something inside me whispers. This is how you become her.

Andromeda used magic like a weapon set to destruction. For most of my life, she’s been set on eradicating every supernatural faction outside of covens: no chances, no mercy, just devastating precision.

I could still hear the screams.

They’d echo through the trees as I stood stunned and helpless at my mother’s side, watching as she gathered another fireball in her hands and set another home ablaze without pause.

If that was the definition of strength, I’d choose weakness every day.

I don’t want to be a woman who trades kindness and genuine relationships for command and control, until she becomes something sharp and soulless herself.

Until nothing’s left.

Some doors aren’t meant to be opened.

Go too deep, and you might lose yourself as well.

“Ready when you are,” Riven says, but it sounds more like hurry it up, we have a job to do.

They’re right, so I nod to Diego, who sets himself behind me, arms loosely wound around my middle.

I flatten my hands, spreading them apart like I’m opening a double barn door, and release the power I gathered in my limbs from the supercharged ground.

The fissure in front of me seals itself off before it even fully forms, and it must be because I’ve tuned into every living and breathing thing that I feel Riven’s disappointment so sharply.

Wait. They’re neither living nor breathing, so how can that be?

My connection to the Hollow flickers out, a phone call with a weak signal that’s abruptly dropped. It’s exactly what’s happened before.

I plant my feet firmer and try again, only to get the same sputtering response.

A mere peek inside, and then it’s sealed off to me.

Ever since my first trip venturing into the Hollow, when I felt that disturbing level of despair, I’m scared of what’ll greet me—scared of getting stuck inside forever—which is probably why I haven’t had much success.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” I say, even if it’s not the whole truth.

“Listen, we came all this way, taking three days for a journey that would’ve taken me one,” Riven snaps, their annoyance coming through loud and clear. “It’s time for you to do what you promised, or we’ll do what we promised and give you a war.”

I open my mouth to apologize for my weakness, but Diego is faster. “Do you think this is helping, bloodsucker? Take a walk.”

“But if?—”

“It wasn’t a question.” Diego’s muscles ripple beneath the surface, coiling up as if ready to strike, sharp canine teeth filling his elongated snout.

He’s transformed into a lethal amalgamation of man and beast, and despite the haughty lift of their chin, a hint of fear flickers through Riven’s expression.

What’s weird is I don’t even feel a blip, and my husband legit looks like a creature from nightmares.

If anything, I’m pissed—and a little hurt—at Riven. I thought we were kind of friends, or at least on the same team. They just showed me I’m a means to an end, nothing more, and I wish it didn’t sting.

“I will still be within earshot this time, wolf,” Riven says, outwardly unruffled, but there’s a tick at the corner of their eye that suggests they’re already beginning to scheme ways around it. “As soon as she goes in—and she’d better go in—I’ll be back.”

“As soon as you leave, we’ll see about getting her inside.” Diego’s voice is gravelly, spoken through teeth that make it sound as though he’s gargling rocks. “But threaten my bride again, and you’ll have your war right here and now.”

They give Diego a long-suffering eyeroll and arch a threatening brow in my direction. Then they’re gone, my eyes unable to track their movements.

I wait a handful of seconds more, ensuring they’re really gone before turning in Diego’s arms to face him.

I expect irritation and anger.

Instead, he cups my cheek, his features morphing back to his human form.

I quite like this form, even if a little conflicted about letting him all the way in.

“Hey, it’s not a race,” he says. “We spent days getting here, and you’re tired and dealing with a lot. Let’s get you centered and in control of your magic before you try again.”

For Hecate’s sake, if he goes and shows me patience, I’ll fall in love with him for real.

I nod, because I don’t know what else to do.

Firm hands grip the sides of my waist and spin me to face the sweeping forest below, stretching as far as I could see. Diego brings my back flush against his chest. A couple of stray hairs catch his whiskers as he looks at the view along with me, cheek-to-cheek. “It’s beautiful.”

“I always thought people were being dramatic or hyperbolic when they called something breathtaking, but damn.” My breath puffs out over the ravine, far freer than me.

“Will it help if I go all cheesy and say you’re the one taking my breath away?” he asks in a low voice next to my ear.

“Somehow, I doubt it.”

“Then I’ll keep it inside, but just know I mean it.” He brushes a kiss on my temple as he curls me tighter in his arms. “You’re gorgeous. All morning, I can’t stop staring at you.”

I smile, despite myself.

Despite the two of us and our bonkers situation. “There’s nobody I’d rather be here with, ears and tails and all.”

“There she is,” Diego whispers, with enough praise in his voice that my nipples tighten. “Where’s the girl who made an ax weave around trees?”

“Probably crying because she got ostracized after that,” I say, my mood dipping along with my inner magic.

“Okay, that’s fair, and totally on me.” Using his grip on me, I’m spun to face him once again, and if I’d known that was his intention, I might’ve dragged my feet more.

It’s too hard to think logically while looking at him and feeling all these tiny threads from my heart stitching their way to his.

“But we both know there’s more going on here,” Diego finishes, and damn him for being all insightful and probing and sexy. I honestly can’t decide whether to strangle him or kiss him.

“I’m sure a therapist would tell me I’m holding back because of my issues with my mother,” I quickly blurt, the vulnerable spot in my chest folding in on itself, and we can’t have that, so I rush to make a joke.

“Although witches aren’t big on therapy.

We’d rather make a potion with eye of newt and tooth of a wolf—which is where you come in. ”

Diego’s the picture of unamused, with a side of go ahead and try. “No chance in hell you’ll get one of my teeth.”

“Oh come on, you have plenty! You were just showing them off to Riven.”

“Careful, or I’ll embed one in your ass.” He hauls me closer to him, making a blatant display of checking out my backside. “Yeah, I’ll definitely be biting that later.”

I laugh, some of the heaviness in my chest easing. He has this way of doing that, yet I don’t trust how long it’ll last. Only that when it comes to sex, lasting isn’t a problem for him.

Diego gasps, going all over the top with it. “You want me to, dirty girl.”

I swat him with the back of my hand. “Careful, or I’ll turn you into a toad and leave you out here.”

“That’d be a shame, mostly for you.” He trails kisses up the line of my neck, dips his tongue in my ear, and licks the shell, causing me to melt against him.

“You only got a preview of what it can do, too. Be a good girl and go navigate the Hollow. I promise to reel you back in and give you a private showing later tonight.”

“Unfair,” is all I manage, and it’s more of a hum as he drags fingertips up and down my arms.

Everything is tingly and light, and I want his tongue and his praise and his body, so I mentally fortify myself the best I can—I’ve got work to do.