Page 95 of Hellish Witch

Killian snorted beside me, muttering something rude under his breath. I couldn’t help but smirk at what he thought of the new mage.

Alvie continued as if the demon wasn’t obviously irritated by him. “My coven isn’t far from here, and it would be my honour to escort you to them. I would never turn away a witch in need.”

“Thank you,” I rushed out, the weight of my fears lightening for the first time since I’d torn Killian open at that damned house party.

He smiled, shining like the sun. “Of course, Eve. Can I ask what your magic affinity is?”

I nibbled my lower lip. Zoella had explained to me the branches of magic—mental, elemental, and nature. As a healer, I was a rare affinity within the nature branch.

“Healing,” I said, voice tight.

His expressive eyes widened, like huge shining coins framed by the gilded flutter of his long lashes.

“Beautiful and talented,” he murmured.

All I saw was a blur of purple and darkness as Killian lunged for the mage.

He had the poor male pinned to a tree trunk by his neck, claws pricking the mage’s pale throat enough to spill beads of red.

“Killian!” I gaped. “Fires’ sake, let him go!”

Killian snarled, fangs gnashing inches from the mage’s face as he bristled with unhinged fury.

Like he suddenly realised his overreaction, his features transformed into an innocent smile.

“Oops.” He patted the terrified mage’s cheek sarcastically. “My mistake. I could have sworn your little sparkle fingers were glowing again.”

He stepped back, releasing the mage.

Alvie scowled, swiping at the blood on his neck. “I would never hurt my own kind.”

Killian bared his fangs in a fake smile. “She’smykind, actually.”

I huffed loudly, drawing their attention before they could literally whip their dicks out and start pissing circles around me. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m both. Now, about that coven invite…?” I trailed off, throwing Alvie an encouraging look.

He frowned. “Of course, Eve, you’re more than welcome. Your…friend, however…”

Killian chuckled, the sound harsh like a poisoned blade. “Oh, Sparkles, we’re much more than friends.”

“Are we?” I quirked a brow at him.

It wasn’t long ago he’d emphatically told Zahara that we weren’t friends, and my lips twitched as I poked the grouchy dragon. He might have explained what he’d meant by that statement, but apparently I wasn’t quite ready to stop teasing him about it. Especially when I didn’t know where we stood now.

Killian’s smile turned wry. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

My stupid heart did a little flip, and my even stupider brain decided now was the perfect time to read too much into his words.

Did he mean we were more than friends as in dating? Lovers? Or more like close friends? In a completely platonic way? Almost family?

Gah. I needed to slap myself. But I was trying to project innocent, sane witch vibes to our new mage acquaintance.

I pasted on a completely normal smile, mini fangs hidden. “He’ll be good, I promise.”

Desperate hope expanded in my chest. I could promise no such thing, but this was my chance to be rid of this curse. To fix myself.

To go home without the chance of accidental murders. Return as a valuable healer rather than a broken monster.

Killian grinned manically wide. “Oh, so very good,” he purred, forked tongue swiping out to catch a stray drop of hunter blood from his lips.

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