Page 20 of Witches and Wine (The Mythical Mates of Arcane Cove #1)

Her words left a hollow pit in my stomach, and I pressed my hand there, my throat numbing. “I’m—sorry?”

The Priestess paused stirring to raise a grey brow at me. “Are you hard of hearing too?”

If this was what it took to get help with my powers, I might have preferred to figure it out on my own.

“No. I’m not. But could you elaborate on your empty warning?” Folding my arms, I struck my best power pose, rolling my shoulders back and widening my stance.

It didn’t go unnoticed by the ancient witch who panned my posture from my feet to my head. “Dionysus isn’t what he would seem. He’s a trickster god. Has mischief in his veins. And you, my dear, are falling head first into his snare.”

My nose twitched, followed by my cheek, and I dragged a hand over my face to still it. “He’s been around for a long time. You assume he’s the same man, the same god he was before?”

She shook her head, haughtily tossing the last remaining bit of herbs in her palm before turning to face me with a hand propped on her hip.

“Gods do not change. Especially of the Greek variety. They adapt and learn how to put on facades, but at the end of the day, they are still who fate spun them to be.”

An unease plagued my mind, and a dull pain began to form in my temple. Still fighting the urge to reveal my nervous twitch by chewing on my thumbnail, I rubbed the pentagram charm between two fingers. “How do you know so much about the Greek gods?”

“I wouldn’t be the High Priestess of Arcane Cove—” The Crone started, grunting and wincing as she pulled a wooden chair out from the table to sit down.

Her knees cracked and popped, and she let out a blissful sigh once her ass met with the seat.

“—if I didn’t have full knowledge of all its inhabitants.

And the Cove has plenty of meddling Greeks in its midst.”

A haze filled my vision, memories of how Dion talked and acted with me. He’d always been flirtatious, welcoming, and patient. What the Crone claimed didn’t make much sense. But she was the High Priestess. Surely, she couldn’t be entirely wrong, could she?

“I’d like to think I have good judgment when it comes to character. Dionysus has been nothing but kind and patient with me.” I forced myself to stop fidgeting and pressed my fingertips into the warped wood of the table, leaning over it.

Cressida grabbed a bowl and jar of something black, emptying half of the contents into it. “And here you are, underestimating your power. You’re a witch, dearie. You’ve been altering his brain chemistry without even knowing it.”

My neck numbed, sweat beading on my skin, and dizziness formed in my head and stomach, making me rock back on my heels.

Altering his thinking? Was that possible ?

“I don’t know how to use my powers like that. I can barely summon them, let alone do something that diabolical.” The words flew from my mouth in a haughtiness I hadn’t expected from myself. “And you just said he was the one tricking me .”

The Crone chuckled and grabbed a mortar stone, working it in the bowl.

“Is that not why you came to see me? To learn how to control your magic? To use it?” She pointed a finger, wagging it at me.

“And don’t be so na?ve to think that not a single witch in existence hasn’t used her power to manipulate a person’s thoughts.

Whether it was for good or bad, we’ve all done it.

You both are seemingly trying to out-trick the other, it would seem. Quite ironic if you ask me.”

My gaze fell to my trembling hands, staring at palms where white magic had flowed from the other night. It had surged in sparkling, triumphant waves during that time with Dion—with the maenads. “It can’t be,” I whispered.

“Howdy,” Dion’s voice boomed from the door as it swung open. He flashed us a trademark pearly smile and glanced between us. “What’d I miss?”

My heart and core fluttered at the sight of him despite the uneasiness now consuming my brain. Gulping my nerves down, I gave him a grin and a tiny wave.

The High Priestess rolled her eyes and tossed the mortar into the bowl. “Have you forgotten how to knock, Greek?”

Dion stood tall, silently closing the door behind him and dragging a hand through his hair. “Cressida, pleasant as always. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Not nearly long enough,” she scoffed, moving her gaze back to me.

I wasn’t looking at her directly because I was far too focused on Dion, studying him, questioning him, and desiring him all in the same breath. But I could feel her warning stare burning against my cheek.

“Missed you too, you old Crone,” Dion mumbled before turning his full attention on me, extending his hands for me to take. “I came to check on my girl here.”

“She’s hardly a girl, Beast,” the Crone seethed.

Slipping my hands into his wasn’t difficult. Fighting the way my body wanted to sink into him the moment our skin touched was another matter entirely.

“She knows what I mean. Isn’t that right, Red?” Dion ever so slightly tilted his head, those amber eyes roaming my face, seemingly aware that something was off about me. His thumbs rubbed between my knuckles.

My head nodded without assistance from my brain, and I pinched my eyes shut, looking away from him as if our gazes were what constructed this entire ordeal between us. “Priestess, can I visit you another time?”

A tiny smile crested at the corner of her lips, and she gave a single nod. “Of course. My door is open to any witch in need of help.”

Dion’s grip tightened on my hands.

“I need to get back to my apartment. Would you mind porting us there?” I asked, afraid to look at him and entrance us both in whatever spell I may have unknowingly conjured.

“Sure,” Dion replied, rubbing his earlobe before making us disappear.

We appeared in my apartment, and Riley zoomed from his tower, immediately swirling around my ankles, working his way up to my shoulder, and nuzzling my neck.

“Thanks.” Clearing my throat, I squeezed Dion’s hands a final time and pulled away. “I promised my sister I’d give her a call at the top of the hour, and I would’ve been late. She worries, you know?”

“Yeah,” Dion said—distant and suspicious.

“That, and I have a bunch of potential clients to sift through.” I threw my purse onto the couch, snatched a pen from my desk, and used the butt of it to scratch my head.

Dion moved closer, his hand slipping over my hip. “I said I’d help you with that, and I still mean it, Chels.”

It wasn’t in me to pull away from a touch like that—sweet, calming, and claiming.

“I know, and thanks, but not today. Like I said, I need to call my sister.” Risking a look at him and stifling a whimper at how devilishly handsome he was, I smiled.

“Alright, understood. I’ll uh—” Dion squeezed my hip, and I almost told him to screw the call so I could ride him reverse cowgirl instead. But I didn’t. “—I’ll get out of your hair. You sure you’re alright, though?”

Sucking my lips into my mouth, I nodded vigorously. “Dandy as a daisy.”

Dion squinted at me, calling me on my bullshit. “This isn’t about the woods, right? The maenads?”

He was making it increasingly difficult to suspect him of being a dickhead.

“No. Nothing is wrong. Really.” Heat surged up my neck, and I only prayed the color wasn’t showing on my skin.

Riley perked his head, turning it from me to Dion and letting out a tiny yip. I petted the length of his body to reassure him that everything was okay—for now.

“Okay, Chels. If you say so.” Dion lifted his palms and backpedaled. “Text me, yeah?”

Nodding again, far too vehemently, I gave him a thumbs up. A fucking thumbs. Up. Gods. “Will do.”

Dion smirked at my thumb, gave me one final look over, and ported away.

Sighing, I spun on my heel and flopped to the couch, slapping a hand on my forehead. “Riley, what do I believe? Did I bespell a Greek god? It sounds absurd .”

As if trying to answer me, Riley stood on my shoulder and patted my forehead with his paws.

“I have no idea what that means, but thank you nonetheless, bud,” I said to my ferret, rubbing my face affectionately against his.

Grabbing my phone, I unlocked the screen and stared at the several text messages waiting unread—a couple from Elani, one from my dad, and one from Dion. I frowned and opened the one from Dion, curling my feet onto the couch beneath me.

Dion

Hey, gorgeous. I know you said you’re alright, but I wasn’t born yesterday. If it’s something to do with me, talk to me about it, yeah?

Just talk to him about it as if it was as easy as breathing.

Grumbling, I let my head fall onto the couch’s back and counted the ripples in my popcorn ceiling.

What I needed right now more than anything was a distraction.

Something else to divert my focus so I could come back to this particular chaos with a clear head.

And what was the ultimate deterrent for one Chelsea Stewart in particular?

Work.

Opening a new text window, I feverishly worked my thumbs over the touch screen.

Me

Hello, Apollo. This is Chelsea Stewart. Are you ready to make a plan for success?

I bit my nails, waiting for his reply, and perked up when I saw the three dots bouncing as he typed.

Apollo

Wow. You even type like a PR specialist. You really are the real deal.

This distraction was already working and making me smile.

Me

I am nothing if not professional.

Apollo

LOL. Awesome. And yeah, let’s meet up tomorrow. There’s this new dive bar in the Cove I want to check out called The Crimson Crypt. Up for it?

A dive bar for a PR meeting? I supposed I’d met clients in odder places—the gym while they worked out, a public restroom, a hibachi grill.

Me

Perfect. Should we say four o’clock?

Apollo

Too easy. See ya then.

Blowing out a relieved breath, I turned off the screen and tossed my phone out of reach on the other side of the couch.

My emerald green crushed velvet blanket hung haphazardly from the armrest, and I slid it over my legs, sinking into the cushions to get comfortable.

Riley made circles on my lap until contentedly curling up and closing his eyes.

I hadn’t intended on sleeping on the couch tonight, especially not in my work attire. Yet, the mentally and emotionally exhausted part of me decided this was precisely what I needed as slumber pulled at my brain.