Page 61 of Hexy Beast

That’s why I was sent to live with the centaurs—so I could see what life could be like when not living in fear of the leader.

That’s why Nikos became my number two, because the rot had to become so bad it couldn’t be ignored.

That’s why I got the inside information about where to find the witch’s big bad spell book, because that’s how I’d find Effie.

That’s why I’m the alpha, so I will be the person to make the big sacrifices, not Aunt Artemis, not the rest of my pack, not the curvy little chaos witch I love.

I hook a finger around the purple leather band Artemis tied around my wrist the day she gave me the Kardia tattoo. She’d said it was now a part of me, a visual representation of my fate. I hadn’t bought that, but touching it when I am working through a problem has become a habit. And the Fates know I have a problem in figuring out how to keep Effie safe when she can’t leave my side.

And that’s when it hits me. Artemis placed the proximity charm, but not on Effie. She tied it around my wrist when she gave me the Kardia tattoo. I’ve had it the whole time. And once I finally found Effie, its dormant magic came to life.

All of it was fated. I admit it. I accept it. But I won’t give in to the last part of the Fates’ plan to keep Effie and me together.

This is my battle alone.

Effie goes free. She stays alive. She stays safe.

So that’s my plan. We go back toward Arcadia. I break the proximity spell. Effie goes home. I save the pack. None of the rest really matters.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Effie…

Yes, my thighs are sore when I wake up like yesterday was the mother of all squat days (which, let’s be real, it kind of was), but there’s more than just that going on when I crack my eyes open.

I just feel…different.

Darius is snoring softly next to me, one heavy arm draped across my waist as if to promise that if I even think of going somewhere right now, I’ll be disappointed. The old runes that I’ve never come across in my study of witchcraft are still above the arched entrance to the cave. Outside, the sun is up, the birds are singing, and the tops of the trees are waving in the fall breeze. I inhale, and I can taste hints of an apple pie on my tongue.

Mmmmm. I could go for a big slice of—

What.

The.

Fuck.

I have never tasted a smell in my life. Sure. I’ve smelled a smell. I’ve had the eating experience enhanced because an eye of newt muffin smelled delicious. However, I have never ever—and I mean ever ever—tasted a smell.

That’s some downright shifter shit. My dad has tried to explain it to my sisters and me before, and it was confusing, to say the least. I imagine it’s like trying to explain the buzz of magic shooting through your body to someone who’s never experienced it. They may get the idea of it, but not the bone-deep feel of it.

But here I am, tasting the smell of apple pie from miles away.

I scramble up, sending Darius’s arm flying back and waking him. Good. He has some explaining to do.

Hands already vibrating with magic I’m ready to zap him with, I stare down at the naked alpha werewolf who curled my toes last night like he was made for it. “What did you do to me?”

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and smacks his mouth like he could drink half a gallon of water in one gulp. “What are you talking about?”

“I. Taste. Smells.” Fine. I only taste one smell, but that is enough.

He nods and tucks his shoulder-length hair behind his ears. “Okay.”

“I am a witch.” I jab a finger into my chest and immediately let out a wince because I’m a little—read: a lot—on edge and I did not mean to poke myself in the boob so hard. “I am not supposed to taste smells. My dad does, but he is a bear shifter. Not a witch. A shifter.”

Darius stands up and takes a step toward me. “Calm down.”

Did he just tell me to calm down? My vision goes red around the edges. Oh. Okay. This man wants to die today. I mean, that’s not how I imagined my day would be going when I woke up, but I also did not expect to be tasting the smell of apple motherfucking pie!