Page 38 of Do You Even Hex, Bro?
The memory of her face—both before and after the glamour dropped—hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest. The way she flinched from us. The absolute terror in her eyes. And then those scars...gods. The claw marks raked across her beautiful face, pulling at her eye, warping her mouth.
Wolf marks.
Unmistakable.
No wonder she ran from us at the Cauldron. No wonder she looked at us like we were death coming for her.
"She didn't choose him," Micah says, jamming his legs into a pair of jeans he grabbed from our emergency stash behind the porch. We've learned the hard way to keep clothes hidden around the property. "She chosenot-us. There's a difference."
"Yeah, and the difference fucking sucks balls," I growl.
Killian stands silently at the edge of our property, staring in the direction Villeneuve took Regina. There's blood still sticking to his chin and chest. That prick Kyle's blood. I can smell it from here, coppery and tainted with dark magic. I'm pissed Kill couldn't finish the job. Couldn't rip the asshole's throat out for what he did to her. What he's probably been doing to her for years.
But if Villeneuve was right, killing Kyle might have killed Regina too.
"He said she's a siphon," I say, raking a hand through my hair. "What is that?"
"Fuck if I know," Killian growls. "But we're going to find out."
"You think Villeneuve was right about it hurting her if you'd killed that prick?" Micah asks warily.
Killian's face falls. "I don't know," he mutters. "But we need to figure it out."
I shudder at how close we came to losing her before we even had her. "It's like having a pet hamster."
They all turn to stare at me.
"I'm going to regret this," Rowan says, pressing a hand into his temple, "but what do you mean?"
"When I was a kid, my brother brought home the class pet for the weekend, and he tried to feed it potato chips," I explain. "Turns out, hamsters need pellets and shit. They don't eat potato chips. Anything you do can fuck up a hamster. Shit you wouldn't even imagine could be an issue."
They're staring again.
"No animals eat potato chips, Sean," Rowan says slowly.
"I do," I argue.
He opens his mouth, then closes it again.
"She's not a fuckinghamster!" Killian bellows, already stalking toward the path leading away from the mansion. "Gods, I'm surrounded by fucking idiots. We need to follow them."
"You ain't exactly the valedictorian yourself," I mutter.
"Do you even know what that word means?" Micah asks.
"Sure. Class president."
"And what the fuck do we do when we catch up to them?" Rowan asks, ignoring the bickering and following after Killian. Micah and I bring up the rear. "Storm Villeneuve's place? Break down his door? She's clearly terrified of wolves. Of us."
"We wouldn't hurt her," I protest, the words burning my throat. "We would never?—"
"She doesn't know that," Micah interrupts softly. "All she knows is we're wolves, and a wolf hurt her. Badly."
I turn away, trying to swallow the bitter truth in his words. My mind keeps replaying the moment when Kyle tore away her glamour. The shock and horror on her face as she tried to cover her scars with her hand. The shame in her eyes. Shame she should never have to feel.
I've never wanted to kill someone as much as I wanted to kill Kyle in that moment. If Killian hadn't lunged first, I would have.
Thing is, I might not have been able to stop,
