Page 92 of Too Hexed to Handle

Eira, for once, doesn’t buy the lie. Her lips purse. ‘It is strange, that you didn’t tell me your plans sooner.’

Shadows creep along the corners of the room, and Damian’s eyes widen. ‘The fewer people who knew, the better. I couldn’t risk Daisy finding out the truth.’ He pulls her to the far side of the room, as though my words won’t be able to reach her there, and opens his arms. She immediately melts into his embrace, eyelashes fluttering, while Damian’s nostrils flare, like he’s a Souleater already and can’t abide her scent.

‘Don’t believe him,’ I beseech. ‘What has he ever done to earn your trust?’

She’s too besotted to listen. My hope evaporates as she holds him tighter, clinging to him the way she’s clung to him from the moment they met, never realising he’s her damnation not salvation.

She isn’t going to help me.

And if I don’t agree to finish this potion, Damian’s going to kill Astin.

And if I do manage to complete it, the magic involved might kill me instead.

I tremble.

I don’t want to die. Astin shakes beside me, because he must know he’s going to have to watch it happen, and it’ll be like Olivia and his mother all over again. He’ll be forced to sit here, powerless and out of control, as he loses someone else he cares about. I shouldn’t have tried to make him feel something. I should have let him carry on protecting himself from the inevitable pain that feeling brings.

A light touch on the back of my hand jerks my focus.

‘You have to channel my emotions,’ Astin whispers.

‘What?’ I fight to keep my voice low, but my head whips round of its own accord. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

He angles himself closer. ‘If we’re going to escape, you need magic. It’s the only way. Do it now, while they’re distracted. Can you reach my hand from there?’

Without waiting for an answer, he’s already forcing his bound wrist between my fingers.

‘Astin, I can’t. The amount I’d need to take . . . I’d hurt you. I’d hex you. Damian’s about to bring me a captive, I can –’

‘The captives have been through enough,’ he says firmly. ‘Besides, you don’t want their emotions. You want mine. Because you’re not going to hex me, Daisy. Hexes are left in exchange of negative emotions. Do I smell scared or angry to you?’

I sniff. Sweat slides down the side of my face. Damian is stiffening, looking ready to extract himself from his and Eira’s embrace, although Eira is only squeezing him tighter. There’s only a matter of time before his impatience wins out.

Could I stop this? Do I dare?

I inhale again. The emotions in the room are cloudy and confused and cold, apart from . . .

Roses.

I gasp.

‘You were right,’ Astin says. ‘I did love Olivia. And after she died, I tried to shut it all away. I don’t want to do that any longer. Giving in to it might be terrifying, but it’s worth it to feel the way I do about you. And that is why I can’t watch you die. It’s why I trust you won’t hex me. The way I feel is too strong for any negative emotion to get in the way of that.’

The floral scent is overwhelming now, like I’m lying in a bed of petals.

‘It’ll leave a charmmark, isn’t that what Clarabelle’s letter said?’ His hand is firmly in place now. My fingers twitch. My nails are close to piercing skin. Hot breath fans my ears. ‘Go on, Daisy. Charm me.’

29

This is everything I don’t want to do.

Risking the well-being of Astin, of all people, just so I can harm Damian and Eira. It’s everything I’ve preached I’d never do. But the smell of roses, inexplicably, grows stronger, sweet and delicious and unwavering. He trusts I can do this.

Maybe I should too.

I’m in control. I don’t need to be afraid.

I can make good things happen.