Page 58 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“No, but my daughter is. I’m the wise woman for her people.”

“Your reputation is scary for a wise woman.”

The flash of her pearly white teeth startled him. “That’s more forourkind than for the villagers here. This land should remain untouched.”

“Yet the humans are encroaching and stripping the land,” Hermes said with a scowl.

Storm nodded. “Yes, but as long as I live, this area shall always be protected.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Tripp assured her.

“Excellent.” She turned to leave, Elara cradled in her arms.

“Wait!”

Looking back over her shoulder, she cocked her head. “What is it, Enguerrand? The delay is costly.”

“How long? What is needed to help her? I—” Breathing became difficult at the thought of Elara out of his sight and reach, should she need him. Hermes’s warning about the abduction came back to haunt him.

Understanding and compassion flashed on Storm’s regal visage. “Fear not, demigod. She is in good hands. I’ll not allow anything to happen to her. Return to the water’s edge in seven hours, and she shall be waiting.”

Before he could offer any other questions, she sank to the bottom of the clear bay, taking Elara with her. As the whirlpool started in the center, it took every ounce of willpower and Hermes’s grip to keep him from diving in after them.

“Don’t!” His cousin gave him a hard shake. “She’ll be fine, but you won’t be if you enter the bay without permission.”

“I can’t leave her,” Tripp croaked. His heart felt torn from his body, and his chest ached as he strained to see Elara through the swirling depths.

“Sit and wait if you must, but don’t you dare go into the water.”

He nodded his agreement, backed a few feet, and sank onto the sun-warmed sand. “Do you know what she’ll do to cure her?”

“No, but I have an idea.”

Tripp raised a brow, expecting Hermes to elaborate.

He didn’t.

“You’re an asshole.”

Hermes grinned. “So I’ve been told.”

“When this is over, remind me to punch you in the face.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Tripp Nightshade.

He was all Elara dreamed about in her fevered state. The memories of her past lives had returned to her with the wash of power flooding her cells, and she recalled the times they’d met and were crazy hot for each other. In each lifetime, she’d fallen for him, but he’d never proclaimed his love.

Disaster had followed.

Every. Single. Time.

Her eyes snapped open.

Just as it would this one last time.

The thought felt like a certainty her mind couldn’t erase. Following it was the awareness the people of Witchmere were doomed. Instead of celebrating a holiday of love, light, and joy, they’d be fleeing in terror. Their screams of fear would drown out the sound of sleigh bells. No shoppers would rush home with their presents. Instead, they’d rush to escape a town overcome with lava, ash, and toxic air.

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