Page 40 of Hexy Beast

Effie…

I am not an outdoorsy person.

I don’t ever want to sleep in a tent—even a floating glamping one.

I don’t put a toe into lakes, rivers, or ponds if I can avoid it. I only swim in pools (hot tubs are just cauldrons for bacterial growth).

I don’t hike in the woods because it has always been my version of a living nightmare.

The only thing keeping me from crumbling to the ground with a butt cramp right now is the fact that my magic is back. As soon as it became apparent that Alpha Grumps was not going to take my not being a shifter into account, I cast a custodire et non cadere spell. That has my legs moving at triple speed while giving me elite-level balance.

Darius comes to a stop about two feet in front of me in what has become a very familiar clearing, because I swear we’ve been here before, and turns around to glare at me. The big jerk hasn’t broken a sweat. But wait, it gets worse. While I’m sweating and sucking in wind even with the spell I cast, his cheeks aren’t the tad bit pink with exertion, and his breathing is as calm as can be.

It’s totally unfair, and I hate him for it—despite the fact that the more than plentiful orgasms last night untied all the stress knots in my shoulders.

Darius lets out a long, weary sigh and asks, “Is this as fast as you can go? We really need to pick up the pace.”

“To where?” I shoot back as I come to a stop next to a skinny pine tree. “We haven’t seen anything but trees for the last two hours.”

“That’s the way it works. You just have to keep going.”

“Yeah? Well, we’re passing the same trees over and over and over again.” I hold up my hand to stop the argument he’s about to launch into. “We passed this tree fifteen minutes ago, so maybe you need to come up with another plan other than”—I drop my voice to a surly alpha werewolf bass—“just keep going.”

“They aren’t the same trees,” he says, ignoring my stellar impression as he stalks over to me. “You’re mistaken. We keep going.”

“Oh, really?” I let out a triumphant aha. “Then why does it have a red balloon tied to the branch?”

That stops him mid-turn before he can walk out of the clearing and into the thick woods. “What are you—”

“I magicked it there last time we passed it,” I say, interrupting him. “You’re still not using all of your instincts, and it’s fucking us.”

We both stand in silence looking up at the single cherry-red balloon tied with a pink string to one of the pine tree’s higher limbs. If you think it’s killing me not to crow and tell him I told you so, you would be right. I never said I was without fault. I have a lot of them, but walking in circles in the woods without noticing isn’t one of them.

Finally, Darius breaks the silence. “The woods don’t work like normal woods.” He crosses his arms, making his biceps look even bigger. “They move, remember? It must be doing that during the day now.”

The way he emphasizes remember has me itching to cast a spell that involves him being tied to a red balloon and floating away. I can’t believe I let this jerk into my pants last night. I mean, technically, they were his pants, and I was only borrowing them, but that’s not the point. What is? I’m not sure. I’ve gotten distracted looking at the tats that disappear underneath his T-shirt collar. You’d think knowing what they look like would ease that want to take a closer look. You would be wrong.

Focus, Sherwood!

Yes. I need to focus on the grumpy part of him that’s wrong, not the sexy part that delivers many orgasms.

“I remember all right,” I say, crossing my arms right under my boobs, lifting them upward and outward like nature’s underwire, because two can play that distraction game. “And I also remember that you told me you have to find your way through these woods using skill and instinct. Is that what you’re doing?”

He doesn’t bother to drag his attention up from my chest. “I’ll find the way back to Arcadia without letting my wolf out. I always do.”

“All by yourself?” I scoff.

That gets his focus moving up to my face. “Why are you a navigator all of a sudden?”

It isn’t fair that he can look so sexy and gruff at the same time. The man is acting like a jackass, and the background noise in my mind is all about how good a hate fuck with him would be. Seriously, I’m beginning to think the wires in my head are shorting out.

Still, that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him get away with that little clapback of his.

“I’m talking about your wolf,” I say, speaking each word extra slow as if he’s a child—and not a very bright one—because I know it will annoy him, especially when he’s already fed up because I’m right. “That is the instinct part of things when it comes to getting through the woods, isn’t it?”

“I can do it myself,” he grumbles. “Things are just off with you here.”

I let out a squawk of laughter. “Oh yeah, you’re doing a great job so far.”