Page 61 of Bewitching Her Monsters

“She lied!” Calder shouts.

“I don’t think she lied,” Arran defends her. “Unless she’s been acting this whole time, even in her sleep, she doesn’t know I’m the dog. And she’s afraid of Rob. I can smell her fear, even if she tries to brush off how bad it was with him. She showed no signs of lying when she talked about him. Her heart didn’t quicken. She didn’t perspire.”

“It just means she’s a psychopath!” Calder paces the room.

I find it interesting that he’s more riled than normal. I would skim the surface of his mind to discover why, but he’s the best at blocking me. Besides, he would sense the slightest prying.

Is he also confused about his feelings for the witch, and he’s overcompensating?

Am I compensating? Do I like her?

I don’tnotlike her.

Focus up, asshole.

“We need more from her about her ex. And I think we should tell her what she is and see how she reacts.” I throw out the idea like a grenade, waiting for Arran to panic.

Arran glares at me. “You just want to fuck up my chances with her.”

“You’ve already accomplished that all on your own.” I roll my eyes. “You have no chance with her if she doesn’t know what you are. What are you going to do if she accepts your beast and forgives you for spying on her? Will you eat her pussy for the rest of your relationship? And hope that your beast doesn’t literally eat her pussy with a killing bite?”

Actually, licking her pussy doesn’t sound like a terrible way to pass the time.

Flint fidgets uncomfortably. Damn that guy. He needs to get laid. Too bad he never will.

Arran doesn’t snap back with a reply. He knows I’m not wrong. He’ll want more. She’ll want more. And he can’t give that to her the way he is. And she won’t understand why he’s denying her unless she knows about his curse.

“If there were any other way…” I say as my half-ass apology. “But we need to confront her about supes and witches. If she already knows about it, and not her fake book shit, then we can cut our losses. We eliminate her and move on.”

“You mean to kill her if she’s been lying about her ignorance?” Arran asks.

“Unfortunately.”

He glowers at me. “And what if sheisignorant?”

“Well, she will know the truth, and she can embrace her magic. Likely, she’ll be pissed off at us for everything we’ve done… like spying on her as a lost doggie.” I raise my eyebrow and pour myself another glass of demon brew.

Arran’s face turns red at that reminder. She won’t want to be with him after that comes out.

“Fuck!” he shouts, and his beast ripples over his skin. He tosses a heavy recliner, and it flies into the wall. “She’s going to reject me.”

“I hate to tell you I told you so.” I down the fiery liquid. “But I told you not to stay with her. Or pursue her.”

He whips his head around and stalks toward me. He wants to unleash his beast. It’s been riding on the surface for days now.

I can handle his attack. All three of us could survive his beast. It wouldn’t be pleasant to feel his claws and fangs, but I heal quickly. Arran would be hard-pressed to hurt Flint. Calder is the most susceptible to his attack if it goes too far, but he would just reincarnate. Unfortunately, he loses a bit of himself each time.

Not that I expect it to come to death blows. But one never knows what to expect from berserkers—that’s their intrinsic danger. Unpredictability. Sometimes, we can manage him. Other times, he goes off the rails.

I jut out my chin, inviting him to fight. “Hit me if you need to, but this is why you can’t be around Jade anymore.”

Arran stops in his tracks. Shame colors his expression.

Without warning, he shifts, tearing his clothes as he does. Suprisingly, he is a massive wolf, and not in his monster form. He races from the house and into the night.

I wish I could ease his pain and give him words of hope. But none of us have been lucky in life or love, so the words would be empty.

And this is just the latest example of life kicking one of us in the balls.

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