Page 65 of Do You Even Hex, Bro?
"Four."
"Four wolves?" she echoes in disbelief. "Are you in a fucking BDSM werewolf romance novel right now?"
I pull the phone away from my ear again. Sometimes I swear she has supersonic voice powers. “Could you please stop shouting? They’re wolves. They can probably hear you.”
"Regina." Cadence's voice turns deadly serious. "I want you to blink twice if you're being held captive and forced to say these things."
I roll my eyes even though she can't see me. "We're not on video, and I'm not being held captive. It was my choice to come here."
"Your choice," she repeats flatly. "To live with four werewolves?—"
"Wolfshifters."
“—who think you're their magically destined bride or whatever. After everything you've been through. Did you hit your head when you were running away from Kyle? Should I be checking you for a concussion? Are you insane? Do you need meds, Regina? I know a damn good therapist who can?—”
"I'm taking things one day at a time," I say, suddenly completely fucking exhausted. "Look, I really can't get into all of this right now. The pizza's going to be here soon."
"Pizza?" Cadence sounds like she's having an anaphylactic reaction to my life choices. "You're casually eatingpizzawithwolves?"
“I have to go,” I say, not bothering to hide my irritation now. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
"Regina—"
“Love you, Cadence. Talk to you later.”
I hang up, cutting off whatever else she was about to say. The phone immediately buzzes again as she calls back, then calls back again, but I silence it, tossing it onto the bed.
I love my sister to death, but sometimes the only choices are bad ones. At least these wolves seem genuinely invested in helping me break the coven bond. And if they turn out to be lying, well... I'm already intimately familiar with betrayal.
What's one more?
Chapter
Seventeen
MICAH
"Objectively speaking, pepperoni with extra cheese is a classic for a reason," I say, gesturing to the delivery app on my phone that has enough options we’ve had analysis paralysis for the past fifteen minutes. "It's reliable. Everyone likes it."
Sean snorts from his position sprawled across our couch. "Boring as hell, you mean. Buffalo chicken with jalapeños would blow her mind."
“Or burn her taste buds off,” Rowan counters. “Vegetable supreme has variety without being a fucking fire hazard.”
"Supreme is for people who can't make decisions," Sean fires back, snatching the phone out of my hands and placing the order himself. “We’ll just get everything.”
I catch Killian's eye with a warning look. We're all wound tighter than springs, trying to contain the manic energy that's been building since we found our mate. Killian especially. After our Bonded agreed to come stay with us—even temporarily—he pulled us aside for a lecture that would make drill sergeants weep.
"Listen up," he'd growled once Regina was safely upstairs in her new room. "She's not like us. She's been through hell. She's skittish and traumatized and the last thing she needs is four overeager, young alpha wolves bombarding her with... whatever this is." He had gestured vaguely at Sean, who was literally vibrating with excitement. "No overwhelming her. No crowding her. No sexual innuendos."
That last part was directed pointedly at Sean.
We all promised we’d behave, which is why we're now channeling our nervous energy into the Great Pizza Debate of 2025 instead of pestering our mate.
Our mate.
The words still feel surreal in my head.
When we hear tires crunching on our gravel driveway in the distance, we all jump up at the same time. Our hearing is sensitive even in our human forms.
