Page 36 of Do You Even Hex, Bro?
The word emerges charged with power I didn't know I still possessed. A spark of invisible yet potent energy bursts from my aura, crackling through the air between us. Everyone startles, but no one more than me. I'm supposed to be drained dry. Where didthatcome from?
"I'm not going back with you," I continue, my voice steadier than I feel. "I'd rather die."
The truth of this statement hits me hard. I reallywouldrather die than return to that cage, that life of service to a manwho never valued me beyond my utility. The realization is as terrifying as it is liberating.
Killian steps forward. "I can offer you a better option." His eyes never leave mine as he speaks. "Bond with us. Sever ties with this asshole and you never have to see him again."
I do need a bond, both to survive as a siphon and to break my connection to Kyle. Without a new bond, I'll either waste away magically or remain tethered to the Crescent Hollow Coven forever.
Butwolves?
The very creatures that haunt my nightmares?
The creatures that left mepermanently fucking disfigured?
Kyle's laugh cuts through my thoughts, cold and cruel. "I can put an end to this bullshit right now." His eyes lock with mine, filled with malice. "You want her? Let's see about that."
He raises his hand in a swift, elegant gesture that I recognize too late. Pain explodes behind my eyes as he pulls viciously and mercilessly at the thread connecting us. He's draining me, ripping what little magic remains in my reserves through our coven bond.
I crumple to my knees, a scream tearing from my throat. The glamour spell—the one thing protecting me from the world's stares of disgust and horror—shreds like tissue paper.
Someone gasps. Another curses. The big wolf that was crushing Kyle into the dirt a few minutes ago makes a high, distressed whine.
Horror and humiliation wash over me in crushing waves. I've spent years hiding these scars, and now they're on display for everyone to gawk at. There are too many scars to hide beneath my hands, but it doesn't keep me from trying.
"There's your 'mate' in all her glory, without the glamour," Kyle sneers, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking her?—"
The rest of his sentence is lost in a spray of blood and a blur of midnight fur. Killian shifts so fast I barely see the transition before his massive wolf form slams into Kyle. All I register is his jaws separating Kyle's left arm from his body with the ease of popping off a doll's arm.
Blood fountains from the wound, painting the grass crimson. Kyle's scream is inhuman, filled with shock and agony. Killian doesn't stop. His blood-soaked muzzle goes for Kyle's throat, fangs bared for the kill.
"ENOUGH!"
The word reverberates through the clearing like a thunderclap. Everyone freezes mid-motion—the wolves, Kyle's coven, even the air itself seems to stop moving. It's the kind of magic witches devote their entire lives to learning and still can't pull off. I wait for the same paralysis to claim me, but it doesn't come. I can still move, though my body feels leaden with exhaustion and shock.
Professor Villeneuve calmly walks past me, his movements smooth and unaffected. He has to be the one responsible for the paralysis spell, and yet, he hasn't even broken a sweat.
Whatishe?
He approaches Killian, leaning down to hiss in the frozen wolf's ear. "You fuckingfool. She's a siphon, and she's still bonded to this cretin. If you kill him, do you have any idea what would happen to her?"
Despite whatever magical hold Villeneuve has on them, Killian's muscles strain visibly against the invisible bonds. A low growl rumbles from his chest, and I swear his massive paw shifts slightly. The effort must be monumental, requiring strength beyond anything normal.
The professor turns toward me, and his expression makes my blood run cold. His face remains serene, almost placid, but his eyes... his eyes are burning with something ancient and beyond this realm.
"Who did this to you?"
I shiver at the strange softness in his voice, unable to look away. I'm used to people staring at my scars with horror, sometimes pity. Often disgust. But Villeneuve looks...enraged. Not at me, but the fury rolling off him is intimidating nonetheless.
My body trembles, partly from adrenaline crash, partly from the sudden and complete absence of magic. Whatever Kyle just did drained me entirely. I'm empty now, a hollow vessel. But something about Villeneuve's gaze compels honesty. Maybe it is compulsion magic, or maybe I'm just too weak to resist, but the truth spills from me regardless.
"A wolf," I manage to grit out.
He nods slightly, as if confirming something he already knew. "I see."
Whatever Villeneuve is, he's ancient and impossibly powerful. Nothing I've ever encountered could freeze multiple powerful supernaturals in place with a single word of cold, implacable authority.
He makes a dismissive gesture. Whatever spell held them immobile releases with an almost audible snap. Killian immediately bristles, hackles raised, muzzle still dripping with Kyle's blood. The other wolves form a protective semicircle, watching Villeneuve warily.
