Page 7 of The Arcane Taste of the Witchwood Boys (The Witchwood Boys #4)

Kate

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I’m cursing inside my head, unwilling to make a single noise that might draw Tanner to me. He just isn’t getting it. I might be okay right now, but I can already feel it, this insatiable hunger in my belly that tightens with each second that passes.

I land on the ground beside the Witch’s Tree stump and debate my options.

First, find my friends. Escort them to the cottage. Get Tanner back inside. Run outside and let the song out? If I couldn’t get him with a sleeping charm, I can definitely get him with my song. Clearly, the cottage walls are incapable of keeping out the Hag Wytch’s eerie tunes.

The lullaby is stuck in my throat and my sinuses are hot and scratchy, like I have the flu. Rather than losing my voice, it feels like only the song could pass through that tight constriction. It’s hard to breathe, but I’m not sure that matters. I don’t think I’d die if I were starved of oxygen.

I think I’m … immortal.

What have I done? Immortality is loneliness, pure and simple. I made that choice willingly to save my coven, but the consequences are so damn heavy.

A ghost appears from the shadows of the trees, and even without eyes, I feel like I recognize her. She seems familiar somehow. When the girl lifts her hands up and signs something to me, I realize that she might be Brooks’ sister.

She repeats the movements of her pale hands several times, but when I don’t respond, she turns away. Sharyn McDowell’s ghost skips eerily into the trees until she disappears. Everything is cold and still and creepy, the Witchwoods bleeding out across the world.

The men will figure out a way to fix this breach. I know they will. They have to fix it, so that I can be separated from them, so that I don’t end up eating them. They’re going to lose a whole month just from this one song, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Repairing the gate is the only way we can—

I clutch at my throat and fall to my knees, eyes watering, the tongue of my hat frantically trying to lick my face. I recall everything Brooks, Tanner, and Marlowe said to me before they died, how they wanted me to live on and be happy.

And here I am, wishing the same for them, using the Witch’s Tree to get back to my feet as pain rolls through me in violent waves.

I can’t sing yet, not while Tanner and my friends are unprotected. I can’t let them fall asleep outside where I can eat them. No! What about Flick and Stix and Ebon? What about my siblings? I don’t care if I eat the rest of the world, but I can’t—

There are footsteps behind me, and I whirl, spotting Georgia and her coven. They’re all wearing silk bathrobes, barely fastened around their naked middles. I see a lot of thigh and belly in the spaces between. A lot of blood, too.

Oh, Georgia, you liar. You only took the sex out. Your magic is just as dark as Brooks’.

“Kate, what the hell is going on?” Georgia asks, easing toward me. Talia is gaping from behind her, wearing the little white top hat with the dried flowers and the veil. She has a wooden wand in her left hand. Tacy looks like she might be close to a nervous breakdown. Fernanda is wide-eyed with both horror and wonder at our new situation. They could’ve been crushed by the tree. I almost killed them.

I’m going to eat them.

“Run!” I scream, throwing my arm out in the direction of the cottage. It’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, yell that word and hold back that song. “Now! Go!”

Georgia peers at me like she’s considering whether to listen or argue.

“You heard the lady.” It’s a rough growl from nearby. Tanner.

He swings down on his broom, hitting the ground directly in front of my feet.

It’s so sudden that I just barely have time to stumble back a half-step before he grabs my arm and drags me close. He holds the handle of the broom in his other hand, the bristles pointed upward, like he came at me in a dive before he hopped off.

Shit.

He misunderstands how hard I’ll fight for somebody I love—even if that means fighting him. I am not letting him hurt himself. This is a battle for his life.

“Go to the cottage and stay inside,” Tanner instructs, but Georgia still hesitates. She doesn’t take orders from anyone.

“If you don’t, your entire coven is dead,” I add, staring into the eyes of my soulmate.

God, I can’t believe I fell in love with this monster at first sight. I can’t believe he’s so bullheaded. I can’t believe how much I love him, how much I want to be caught by him. Chills.

But hey, Brooks was right: we shouldn’t always get what we want if it isn’t good for us.

“Is he trying to hurt you?” Georgia clarifies, moving forward and raising her own wand.

If I asked for her help, she’d fight Tanner for me. All of my girls would. Talia, too.

“Please, Georgia. Don’t be a stubborn Southwoods today.” I shift and Tanner shifts with me, the pair of us turning in a circle, his arm around my waist, our feet digging into the damp earth. It feels like we’re dancing a violent tango.

What an absolute clusterfuck this is.

His eyes are pure silver right now. Not even a hint of blue. His double tails sway behind him, and his hat ears are pressed flat to the brim. He’s baring witch fangs at me, panting and sweating and covered in blood and beautiful.

I love that he’s fighting for me, but I won’t stop fighting for him either.

“Do you even have a plan?” I growl, and he curls his lip back at me.

“We make plans as we go, you know that.” He shoves his leg forward, putting his knee up against my crotch. Like I did to him earlier, he taunts me by rubbing himself against my pussy, lighting up my body with distractions.

“Oh yeah? A plan to block the Hag Wytch’s lullaby, something you guys obviously struggled with in the past? Don’t tell me that Brooks never tried.” I grit my teeth and shove at Tanner, but he won’t go. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. Ugh.

“Don’t worry so much about the lullaby. Coven magic isn’t very effective on its own members.” He laughs, that husky, throaty sound I love so much. I’m covered in goose bumps and soaking the crotch of my leather pants for him. “Brooks and Marlowe will be here any second, and then you’re in deep shit and you know it.”

“Are you guys having sex or fighting?” Georgia murmurs, still unsure if she should step in or follow my directions.

“Sex,” Tanner replies easily, shoving my back into a tree and lifting my wrists above my head with a single hand. He puts our bodies flush against one another, ignoring my hat as it tries to lick him to death. Chase and catch. Hunt and find. Fuck and keep. The taste of his emotions is distracting, so I send my hat a silent order to stop. “Definitely sex. Bet the boys and I could fuck the Hag Wytch right outta you.”

“Hag Wytch?” Georgia repeats, like she’s noticing my wings for the first time. “What is even happening? Was your coven trying to seal the gate or tear it down? How do we fix this?”

“Cottage!” Tanner and I yell the word at the same time. He kisses my neck. He bites me. He is all over me, and I’m struggling to fight him off because all I want to do is hold him close.

He died for me. He was dead. They were all dead.

Georgia finally relents, leading her girls into the woods while casting me an odd look over her shoulder. She’ll go, but she’s pissed. Doesn’t matter. I … I might never see her again. I want to tell her and Fernanda and Tacy how much I love them, but I can’t. If I start spouting mushy things, she’ll know and she won’t leave.

“You should be obeying the same order!” I shout at Tanner, dragging one hand free of his grip and slamming my palm into his stomach. He swings the broom down and locks it behind my back. We both curse at the impact, but ultimately, we don’t move either. “Tanner, you have to fix this, so I don’t eat the world.”

I risk throwing an arm out, gesturing at the colossal tree that’s crashed down into the McKay Community Forest.

“The world can fucking burn,” he purrs, leaning down toward me. His body is hot, and I want nothing more than for him to ravage me on the forest floor. It’s my greatest, most selfish need. I want it so bad and yet … I’ve accepted that it’s never going to happen again. Never. “The only thing that I care about is you. Us, the four of us, we could survive together anywhere.”

That’s what almost gets me, his words.

Tanner tightens his grip on the broom, pulling me hard against him.

“I might eat you,” I whisper, eyes wide. I shouldn’t let him get to me, but I do, if only for a minute. I remember accusing them of being selfish, ruining my life to save all of theirs. I told these men that I would never know how I’d react until I was in that situation myself.

Here I am, and I know. I know. But it’s still hard.

“No,” Tanner tells me slowly, gently. Firmly. A resolution. His lip curves up on one side in a half-smile. “You won’t. You’re not going anywhere, Katelynn. You can escape as many times as you want, but I’ll just keep catching you.”

I put my hands on either side of his face, even though I know I shouldn’t. He feels too good, and when he looks at me, I know I’m weak. I want to give in, let him hold me here and hope beyond all possible hell that he can get me out of this mess.

But then the hunger hits, and I’m looking at Tanner and seeing his pulse hum beneath his neck. Wondering what his meat might taste like, if his bones have buttery marrow. Hoping that his flesh will fill the well of emptiness inside my chest.

I force my eyes to his.

“We need a barrier between us. A gate.” I stare him down, certain that this curse is a sort of hell. I’m losing control of my emotions quickly, free will being sapped away. Feathers sprout from my arms as we stand there, and Tanner’s gaze tracks down to them. “You can’t beat a god, Tanner.”

“I’m not trying to beat a god, Kate. I’m in love with a god. If you try to eat me, we’ll figure it out. Curses can be broken. We’ll break this one, too.”

He can’t know that. He’s risking a fate far worse than death. Not only will I—as the new Hag Wytch—end up eating his body, but also eating his soul. I could lock all three of the men I love into a seemingly eternal curse. God only knows how long the previous Hag served her role before giving it to me. She’s lucky to be dead.

Death is the thing she wanted most in the world, and so we both got our wishes.

I wanted my men to be alive again, and she wanted to die. That’s how the curse works. Enormous power in exchange for enormous sacrifice. The Hag Wytch finally found someone desperate enough to take that deal.

What a clever witch she was.

“I can’t guarantee that the three of you will be okay if we try that route. But if I run from you, block myself off in the Witchwoods, then yes, the three of you will be safe. Why wouldn’t I choose that path? You need to fix the gate, spare me from eating the world.” I’m resolute.

My words don’t waver, but Tanner laughs at me, his lips grazing mine.

“You want guarantees, Kate? You are guaranteed to suffer if we do what you say. Why wouldn’t I risk everything for a future where you might be happy versus one where you never will?” He kisses me, and then just as quickly drops down and takes the broom with him. He yanks the handle forward, hitting me in the back of the legs and knocking me to my ass.

I was about two seconds away from throwing my wings at him and trying to take off again. Somehow, it feels like he knows that.

He shoves me down to the dirt, pinning my wrists to the ground and trapping my wings underneath me. His cock is hard and hot, pressing against me as he leans in. I’m panting as I stare back at him. He can probably tell how much I want this, but … then I’m panting for a different reason, gazing at his throat and realizing it’s close enough to sink my teeth into.

More feathers have sprouted from my arms.

My stomach grumbles with a painful hunger. I am starving and Tanner looks especially delicious.

That’s enough to get my ass moving. I shove up at him with both hands, using my growing strength as the Hag to overpower him. We end up climbing to our feet with our hands locked. I’m getting leverage against him to move around, but for some reason, I can’t get his hands to uncurl from mine.

Because you still don’t want to hurt him.

The only way I’ll be able to escape Tanner is if I break some of his fingers.

The thought is enough to disgust me, and he knows it.

“I’ll fight dirtier than you, Kate. Always. Just don’t.” Tanner is breathing hard as he stares me down, his palms slick against mine. I’m not sure if it’s me that’s sweating. Him. Both of us. His arm muscles strain, and I realize that I’m actually enjoying kicking his ass.

Or … I would under different circumstances.

I’m looking at his eye and fantasizing about plucking it out with my beak. Oh God, no. Tell me I don’t have a beak instead of a nose.

I jerk my arms violently to either side, cracking the fingers of Tanner’s right hand in the process. He grits his teeth at me, but it barely slows him down when he reaches for me again.

The next best choice I have is to sing now, and then hope I have enough time to drag Tanner back to the cottage before I try to eat him.

My head falls back and the urge overwhelms me, notes searing my tongue like poison. My lips part as that haunting lullaby oozes out, a melody in English that I didn’t make up. I’m not sure where the words come from, but they come nonetheless.

Sounds like a spell to me—or a curse.

“ Father Earth, take pity on my prayers. Soften the hard edges of my nightmare. If I dream, let them dream with me. If I eat, let them feel no pain. If I suffer, let me suffer alone.” I choke on the lyrics, my lips and tongue and throat moving without my consent. Again. Actually being the Hag isn’t much different than being spelled by the Hag, now is it? “Mother Earth, take solace in my devotion. If I kill them, let them be born again. If they accept my gift, let them have my pain. If I have paid my debt, let me return to the dirt.”

Tanner is holding onto me now, but there’s nothing he can do to stop my song. He tries to cover my mouth with one hand, but I break his wrist when I grab it and he goes pale in the face with pain. Doesn’t mean he lets me go.

“ I beg you, Northwoods. I implore you, South. I beg help from the East, and I prostrate to the West.” Tears are streaming down my face as I sing a bastardization of Brooks’ spell. Instead of ‘we’, it’s ‘I’.

Me, calling magic alone instead of alongside my coven.

I hate that.

There’s a mighty appetite inside of me, a mindless glutton trapped beneath the surface of my skin. It’s as if I’m sharing my body with somebody else, and that somebody else is winning.

The curse.

The curse is winning.

That’s why I have to run, why I can’t let the men try to hold onto me.

“ I call on the great tree that lives in the North. I bathe in the fiery embers from the south. A terrible wind howls straight from the East, and I summon a tidal wave from the West. Forgive me, spirits of water and earth. Pardon me, phantoms of fire and air.”

I finish the song with a gasp, shoving Tanner back and clutching at my throat. It feels sore, used. I feel used. Dirty. When I swallow, it’s like molten fire sliding down my tongue and burning me.

Animals fall where they stand. Insects in flight drift to the earth like leaves. The forest spirits are huddled in nooks and crannies on the ancient trees, trying to hide so they won’t get eaten.

I’ve sung the world to sleep. How much of it, I don’t know. Just my block? My city? State? Country? Or … everyone.

Everyone except fucking Tanner.

He stands there, swaying but awake, blinking heavily … but awake.

He was right: the spell isn’t as effective on him.

“Nice try, kitten,” he pants, swiping his unbroken hand over his mouth. Crazed. He looks absolutely crazed. “Try harder next time.”

Tanner runs at me, and I grab his broken wrist, shoving his fingers into my mouth and sucking the blood off. My tongue laps at him like a starving animal, and my vision narrows into a single, harsh point. His throat. Soft and warm. Delicious.

My plan was to take him back to the cottage, but we’re out of time. All I can do now is disobey his one and only rule: I’m going to run. Again. If leaving saves their lives, then leaving is what I’m going to do.

My wings spread wide behind me, stretching strange muscles in my back. I throw them down and push up from the ground, soaring into the air like it’s nothing. Just like it was easy to sing, it’s easy to fly, too. I’d say it comes naturally, being the Hag Wytch, but that’s not true at all.

The curse is there, squirming in my soul like a handful of maggots.

It’s about as unnatural as it comes.

I use my wings to lift out of Tanner’s reach, and then I fight my way through thick underbrush and tangles of wild vines in an effort to put some space between us.

Only, I forgot he still has that stupid broom.

I should never have let them fuck me with that damn thing.