That seems to appease Caspien’s suspicions. “Then I only have one thing to say to you.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t ever hurt her. She didn’t get her knife skills fromme. Althea’s viciousness is nothing compared to the wrath of her mother.”
Before everyone left the office, Daemon asked Caspien to take a DNA test, explaining it wouldn’t change the lack of memories, but it would at least give them both a sense of how they should move forward. Daemon doesn’t want to invest a lot of time into a family under false hope for either side. Caspien agreed.
I don’t know how that story will play out, but it’s their decision to make from here on out. My primary concern will be how it affects Althea, because she is one hundred percent sure Daemon is her brother, and if it turns out he isn’t, it’s going to devastate her. She’s put all her hope into this being her lost twin, and getting her to release the survivor’s guilt she’s been holding onto is still a work in progress. A false identity could set that back for her, but I won’t let her be eaten up by it again.
After everything was settled with Caspien and Nazario, as well as with Daemon, I headed back to our cottage in search of my little devil only to find she had been moved into the main house for the night. When I stormed into the house to retrieve her, my aunt Vellas was touting some bullshit about it being bad luck to see the bride the night before the wedding.
I haven’t seen my little devil since dinner and I’m champing at the bit to get this wedding over with so I can throw her ass over my shoulder and haul her back here for the punishment she has coming after that bullshit she pulled jumping between me and Caspien. Putting herself in danger.
I’ve decided her ass will pay for all her poor decisions after the wedding is over. Including allowing my aunt to talk her into not being in my bed last night. I tossed and turned all fucking night. Dreaming about sinking balls deep in her sweet wet pussy and making her moan my name only to wake up to an empty bed.
My poor little devil is going to have a hard time sitting for a while.
But she needs to learn how much she means to me and how seriously I take her safety. It’s a nonnegotiable for me. Reckless behavior will have to be punished swiftly and severely. She’ll probably try to fight me on this, but I’m up for the challenge.
A heavy knock at the door pulls me from my salacious thoughts.
Hex is standing on the front porch of the cottage alone with a large leather-bound book in his hands.
“I told you I had something for you when I arrived, but it’s been a bit hectic. And since today is your wedding day, I thought now would be a good time to bring this to you.” I motion for him to come in. He’s not wearing his makeup, but I notice he has a satchel across his body and a knowing look in his eyes.
We head into the living room and take a seat. I lean back on the couch with one leg crossed over the other and pick up my tumbler of whiskey I’d left on the table and take a drink.
“Drinking for courage or just for flavor?” Hex asks.
“Drinking to stave off the need to steal my bride away and elope.” I nod. “I wasn’t expecting all this fuss and a house full of people. When we first got here and I told my aunt what I wanted for our ceremony, it was short and sweet. But now there’s a whole fucking production happening in the house, and I’ve been instructed to wait out here until they call me.”
Hex smiles. “Yeah, I heard your mother-in-law is landing soon. Caspien pulled some strings to get her out here. Probably a good thing for you. If she’d missed her only daughter’s wedding day, they might never have found your body in the desert.”
I scoff at that. “I do not fear the Drakos family.”
“It doesn’t matter what the last name is. Some things a mother won’t forgive, and as her son-in-law, you’re going to be responsible for most of them.” Hex laughs as I flip him off.
I watch as he places the leather book in the center of the mirrored coffee table, then moves his satchel around to remove it from his body. He rummages through the bag, pulling out a black mortar and pestle, one I know I’ve seen before. I huff out a disbelieving breath, and Hex smiles.
“You know I don’t believe in this shit. If you want to read someone’s palm or tell them their fortune, you should really find Giselle. It’s more her thing.” Hex doesn’t respond, just continues pulling out small vials of herbs and pouring them into the mortar.
Once he has everything he needs, he begins mixing and mashing the herbs together. I drink my drink, closing my eyes, needing a moment to relax and gather my thoughts. When I open my eyes, the room is filled with smoke, and Hex is sitting back against the couch with his eyes closed and his hands open toward the sky.
“The fuck are you doing?” I ask, concerned the asshole might actually be burning down the fucking cottage. But the voice that answers in the haziness is not Hex. It’s a woman.
“I asked Oliver to help me reach out to you, son.” My mother’s voice comes through the cloud of smoke, and I find myself frozen with disbelief.
Am I drunk? Did he lace my drink? Is this a dream? Did I fall asleep on the couch?
My thoughts are scrambling with possibilities.
“You’re not dreaming, Enzo. It’s really me. I wanted to reach out sooner, but Madam Bourdeaux and I thought it best to wait until you were ready to hear the truth.”
“The truth about what? I don’t understand. What’s happening? How-How are you doing this?” If this is another one of Hex’s parlor tricks, I’m going to beat the bastard to within an inch of his life.
Soul can’t do anything to Nazario or their agreement if I didn’t actually kill him, right?
But Hex hasn’t moved from his spot. His eyes are filled with gray storm clouds. His face appears almost vacant, and he’s sitting with his palms up. He’s here. I can see him physically sitting on the couch, but he’s nothere.
The fuck?
“Relax, Enzo.” I hear Mama say. “I know this is weird for you. But trust me. If nothing else, trust your heart.”
