Page 21 of Witches and Wine (The Mythical Mates of Arcane Cove #1)
“I told ya. Should’ve married her,” Bruce mused, stretching his arms skyward before interlacing his fingers behind his head, leaning on one of Hermes’ cows and pretty damn proud of himself.
I’d swung by the Speedy Sandal as a distraction from whatever the shit just happened with Chelsea.
One moment, I’m on my knees, lapping her up while the maenads made her feel like a goddess in my sanctuary that I share with no one else, and the next?
She’s distant, cold as a fish, and can’t find it in her good graces to say more than a few words to me.
It was our months’ worth of strict texting, but in physical form, and I hated it.
“Shut the fuck up, Bruce,” I growled, my claws and canines jutting out, the tips of the horns peeking through my skull.
Bruce’s ears flicked, his tail going bone straight, and he pushed off the bovine, heading for the field gate exit. “Okay, that’s my cue to bail.”
Hermes came back from the barn with a hay barrel in his grasp, wearing only his pants, boots, and a dirtied white tank top. He raised a brow at a ruffled Bruce passing him.
“You’re up, Herm. Good luck,” Bruce grumbled before shoving his hoof into the gate, shimmying through it when it swung open.
Hermes moved his gaze on me, and I could already feel his judgment edging me on further—the kind of ridicule only a best friend who has been through some of the best and worst shit with you could provide.
The sort of reasoning and common sense you didn’t want to hear but thank them for later. But now wasn’t later.
“What the hell did you say to him?” Hermes asked, tossing the hay in the middle of the field and using a knife to cut away the twine holding it together. He wiped his forehead, already sheened with sweat, with his forearm.
Irritation bubbled in my gut. “ Why are you sweating? We don’t sweat.”
Hermes chuckled, flashing that award-winning perfect smile of his. “We can if we want to.”
“Oh, you want to, do you? Hoping to have your way with me? Giving me a show?” I clicked my claws together, not bothering to make them disappear yet.
Hermes’ smile faded, and he haughtily tossed the rope into the dirt. “I make myself sweat so I can feel the outcomes of my hard work that our godslihood robs from us. You know this, Dion, so what the fuck is going on with you?”
“You know what this is about. Don’t give me that,” I sneered, snatching my hand away from a cow trying to sniff me.
Hermes frowned and shoved me away from the animal, affectionately petting its muzzle.
“Firstly, don’t you take this out on my cattle.
Secondly, yeah, I know this has to do with Chelsea, but I’m waiting for you to tell me why .
Because the last I heard, you had an actual banging time in your forest with her and the maenads, and she was more than into it.
Now you’re here standing in the sunshine, in Arcane Cove looking like a lost puppy.
So—” Hermes held his arms out at his side, the glistening sweat he’d summoned making those lean muscles of his more pronounced like a right dickhead. “—the fuck, bro?”
Snarling, I balled my hand into a fist with all intentions of punching a nearby tree but stopped short and let my hand thump against it instead. “She’s gone cold all of a sudden. Can barely stand to look at me.”
“That’s weird,” Hermes replied, scratching the stubble on his chin.
“I know ,” my beast answered, the depth resonating in my chest.
Hermes fanned his palms and slipped a rag from his back jeans pocket, using it to wipe his face. “Walk me through it, Dion. Can you do that without skewering one of my cows with your horns? Or should we take this inside?”
Grinding my canines, I jutted my head toward the building and made my way for it. I’d had enough control of my beast that I doubted an accident with one of the animals could happen, but the sun was stifling. Also, the less Hermes sweated, the better for my nerves since he insisted on conjuring it.
The cool breeze from the ceiling AC vents drafted over my face and neck, simmering the heated rage boiling in my veins. I’d closed my eyes, only to open them when the sound of the screen door echoed in my ears, Hermes following behind me.
“Alright, Hoss, what makes you think she’s become distant?” Hermes asked, dusting off his hands and leaning on the counter with his arms folded.
Absently flicking the mail cubby boxes, I tapped a claw against the golden name plate labeled “P.” “Her not being able to look me in the eye or hardly speak to me isn’t enough of an indicator for you?”
Hermes slammed his fist on the counter, making a drawer pop open.
It was filled to the brim with every variety of chocolate bars known to the universe.
He unabashedly grabbed a Snickers, tore it open, and bit into it.
When I raised a brow at his sudden urge for a sugar rush, he shrugged.
“What? I did a lot of running today. I feel woozy if I don’t eat sugar.
Anyway—” Hermes continued between chews.
“Do you think she’s embarrassed about what happened? You said she’s normally the shy type.”
The way Chelsea had arched her back for me and presented herself to me like a female in heat had a disgruntled snarl vibrating in my throat. “I asked her that. She swore it wasn’t. And we may have hidden things from each other a time or two, but we’ve never lied .”
“What happened between the beastly bang and the sudden distance?” Hermes shoved the rest of the candy into his mouth, forming a large lump against his cheek.
Unease made my neck tighten as I recalled my conversation with Bruce about the godsdamned Crone. “She went to see Cressida.”
“Alone?” Hermes’ brows skyrocketed, and he licked excess chocolate off his thumb.
I raked a hand through my hair, tugging on it, the horns protruding further from my head.
“Why does everyone keep saying that? Yes, I encouraged her to go alone, as being a witch is something for her . I figured I was doing the right thing by not stepping on her toes over it. Apparently, the fuck not .”
“That has to be it. The High Priestess must’ve said something that spooked her.” Hermes snapped his fingers. “Think she told her you two were mates, and Chelsea didn’t know how to process it? Maybe she’s scared? She only found out she isn’t human like yesterday.”
Scratching my skin where the horns refused to disappear, I shook my head. “I don’t think?—”
Before I could finish my thought, the front door swung open, smacking against the wall, the bell rattling so fiercely it almost fell.
A hulking male tall enough that he needed to duck through the doorway entered, grabbing the bell with a wince and shutting the door behind him with extra delicacy.
He wore a black leather motorcycle jacket, his beard thick and dark brown with tinges of red.
“Sorry about that, Herm. I’m used to the reinforced doors in our cave fortress.”
Harkin. The resident wolf shifter who frequented the Cove but didn’t call it home. Home was with his pack in Plena Falls, where he served as alpha. Whenever we were in the same space as the other, it became a verbal pissing contest, and today, I wasn’t rightly in the mood for it.
Hermes slid between me and the counter, serving as a buffer with Harkin. He knew me all too well. “Harkin, what can I do for ya?”
Harkin wasn’t having it. A smug grin curved his lips, gaze glowing yellow as he leaned to one side, glowering at me behind Hermes. “Dionysus, are you hiding back there? Afraid I’ll bite?”
“Wouldn’t want you to snap a canine.” Flicking tree bark from my claw, I met Harkin’s glare. “What would your pack make of a toothless alpha after all?”
Hermes sighed and hung his head, giving up and sliding to the side.
Chuckling, Harkin pressed his titanic fists on the counter, pushing his weight toward me. “Only half shifting now, are we?” He referenced my partially exposed horns.
Jutting my shoulders, the beast pushed through, making the horns extend to their full length. “I’m not a shifter.”
“You might as well be, god of wine and frenzy,” Harkin barked back, his canines enlarging.
Hermes slapped the counter, garnering our attention and growls. “Normally, I don’t interfere, but this is not the day for this, Harkin.” He glanced at my horns and back to Harkin. “Trust me.”
Harkin smirked and scratched the corner of his jaw like a godsdamned hound. “Suppose I should take his word on that, considering how close you two are.”
This son of a bitch.
Crimson crested my vision, and I dug my claws into the counter, already making my way over it. Hermes slapped the back of his hand against my chest, forcing me back to the floor. “He’s only trying to get a rise out of you, Dion. You know that. Rein it in.”
Harkin’s amber eyes glinted at me as he chuckled before ignoring me entirely and moving his attention to the mail cubbies. “Any word from my mate, Malia? She went on a females retreat over a week ago, and I haven’t heard a word since. They were supposed to be back three days ago.”
Hermes fluttered his fingers until he reached one of the compartments labeled with a “G.” A blue light flashed, producing several envelopes. He shuffled through them with a cinch in his brow and slowly shook his head at Harkin. “Afraid not.”
Harkin shoved his fists into the counter, cracking it. “I knew it. I suspected she might be rejecting me.”
“After so many years?” Hermes asked but frowned at the destruction we’d done to his poor countertop.
There wasn’t an ounce of me that roared to throw this rejection right into the wolf’s face, but not only would that muddy my head further, but I had to admit to myself—who better to ask about the concept of mates?
Harkin snorted and dug into his jacket’s front pocket, producing a cigar and lighter. “Mind if I puff in here?”
“Be my guest,” Hermes said, flicking his wrist as if the place wasn’t full of easily flammable parchment.