Page 52 of Too Hexed to Handle

I smile at everyone around me, but they’re wide-eyed, trembling in fear. Why are they looking at me like that? Why don’t they get it? I saved them.

I saved them. I did. I –

One final moment of victorious silence, and everything comes to me in a rush.

The bodies. The destroyed clearing. The smoke in the air.

The screaming near my ear.

Was it always that loud?

Using my powers was like having my head submerged beneath water, but now I’ve surfaced for air to find the land isn’t the same. Suddenly, I don’t feel powerful. I feel sick. Nauseous. Disgusted. Snakes writhe in my belly.

I used magic. And those thoughts I’d been having, about feasts and banquets and wanting to take every emotion the girl could give me . . .

I’m everything I never wanted to be.

I spot Nuri among the crowd, panting heavily, staring at me like she’s never seen me before. I spin away from her, suddenly terrified of the expression on her face, terrified of what I’m going to see on other people’s faces, because they saw what I did, they know what I am, and the girl . . .

The girl I channelled from is screaming and screaming at a fresh black x on her forearm.

Oh no. Oh no.

‘What did you do to me?’ she wails. ‘What did you do?’

Her lashes are drenched with tears. I don’t want to look at her. I don’t want to look at it, that thing I’ve given her, but I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know I needed to stop, there was no warning –

She grips my forearms. ‘What did you do? Tell me!’

I shake my head, but the moment my gaze accidentally meets hers, I know what her hex is, like I’m connected to her via the hexmark.

She’ll never sing in tune again.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper.

Was her voice important to her? Or, like Damian claims, will this be a gift in disguise? Maybe she doesn’t like performing. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to ask. I can’t tell her. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had to save . . .’

Astin.

I don’t need to turn to know he’s behind me. As always, I’m attuned to the way he steps, the way his body feels when it’s close to mine.

Unlike all the times that came before though, I wish he wasn’t anywhere near.

Dread grips my throat.

He brushes straight past me to take the girl’s arm in his hand, rolling it from side to side, examining her brand-new hexmark as horror dawns in his eyes.

I remember how he looked at me when we were under the influence of the lust powder. Like I was a goddess splayed on the ground before him; something to be worshipped, revered. The way he touched me as though I were something precious. The feel of his mouth against my neck, my ear, his breath hot as he murmured my name.

My heart splits in two when I realise he’ll never look at me like that again.

When our stares collide, his blue eyes are no longer powder soft, but as hard as sapphires.

‘You’re a Souleater,’ he whispers, like if he says it quietly it won’t be true. ‘You’re one of them.’

17

‘Astin. Astin. Astin.’