Hexed (Never After, #6)

by Emily McIntire

“In fact, I can’t see anything but you, and it’s fucking infuriating.”

Pleasure from his words cascades down my shoulders and wraps around me like a blanket, and I grasp it because it feels good. Even if it’s wrong. Dangerous, even.

“Your eyes are so familiar,” he murmurs, releasing my chin and moving to ghost a gentle touch beneath my lashes. “Why is that?”

“Then what should I do with you?” A warning siren blares in my head, screaming, Danger! Danger! Do not answer! I ignore it. “Whatever you want,” I reply.

“Whatever I want,” he repeats slowly, his eyes tracing along every single contour of my body, stripping me bare. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man like me, piccola sirena.”

I close my eyes because I want to move him down my body until he dips under my clothes and makes me scream.

“And in this life, I’m a lot of things, Enzo. But I’m not a cheat. And I don’t think you are either.” He watches me for a minute, a storm waging war in his eyes, and then he nods. “You know, in my twenty-nine years, I’ve never once gotten to do whatever I want. Not really.”

If the situation were reversed and it were Aria standing here, I know she wouldn’t give me the same regard. But this isn’t about her. Not really. It’s about being no one’s choice.

I’ll never let myself fall prey to the whims of another person. Especially one who makes me want to please him. I’m afraid I’ll lose myself and never come back.

She’s fucking wild. And I’m not 100 percent sure she won’t actually kill me.

Usually, I can anticipate people’s actions, but with Venesa…I have no idea what she’s capable of or what she’s going to do, and it’s attractive as fuck.

The way her neck is elongated, her hair flowing down her back, and the sun setting behind her makes her look like an actual siren come to shore, tempting even the most loyal of men. I’m fucking gone while I watch her. The world could light itself on fire behind us, and I don’t think I’d care.

She’s a goddess, her wet clothes clinging to her curves, her shirt so thin that it’s almost see-through.

Sometimes when you open up old wounds, the weight of them makes you feel you’re sinking in quicksand. The humor is a way to drag yourself back out, to find a little hope when everything around you feels like it’s pushing you down.

She makes me…feel. And maybe it’s nonsensical, but it is what it is.

I don’t let the words fall from my lips—how I’m afraid I’m already a changed man just from knowing her.

I stare at her instead of taking a bite, because watching her eat is like hearing your favorite symphony for the first time: a transcendent experience you never knew you were missing but somehow know you can’t live without. I’ve never heard someone make food sound so sexy.

“Don’t worry, piccola sirena. You don’t need sweet treats to impress me. You’re impressive enough.”

Urch. I hadn’t realized it was a nickname used outside the family, and suddenly I’m wondering how she got it.

She sucks in a breath, and my heart skips in my fucking chest like I’m a schoolboy with a crush. Which I guess I sort of am.

“Hey, fuckface. Get us the prize, and stop looking at her before I teach you some manners.”

“I don’t have to know the details to know you’re a piece of shit, so let me make something crystal-clear: If you ever so much as even breathe in Venesa’s direction, I’ll know about it. And I’ll come back here, and I’ll find you, and I will take my time making sure you never breathe again. Do you get what I’m saying to you?”

I can tell he wants to kiss me. And I want him to, which is crazy because I’ve never kissed anyone. It’s too close. Too personal. And I’m afraid I’ll be bad at it.

Because no matter how badly I might want him… Enzo isn’t mine to have. And I’m not worth the fallout there would be if we gave in.

I don’t even know her. Only…it feels like I do. Feels like I always have, if I’m being honest.

I need to remember who the fuck I am. I don’t have the luxury of going after things I want, not unless I either want to upend an entire empire with it or wind up dead, and no matter what Venesa makes me feel, I can’t act on impulses. Not like this.

She glances up from where she’s running the fork through her hair, her brows hopping high on her forehead. “Why? This dingle thing works just fine.”

I gesture at the book. “Get a bookmark, good lord. Were you raised in a barn?” “Oh,” he replies, picking the book back up and flipping it open. “You mean this?” He takes another page and slowly, torturously, curls over the top part of the paper. My skin crawls.

“You doing okay today?” Something heavy pummels me in the center of my chest, both because he’s the only person to actually care and because he’s acknowledging that today might be hard for me. How dare he?

“We all know what happens when you get too close to a man, Urch, no offense.” My stomach drops, but I wink at her. “Not just the men, honey.”

Because even though I may want her, it doesn’t matter. It isn’t about what I want. I’ve made commitments, and if I don’t follow through… There aren’t many options for me here.

God, what I wouldn’t give to take her away and place her somewhere no one can find her.

A disbelieving breath leaves me, and I blink at her, at this stranger who’s wearing my ring. “You must be the most coldhearted bitch I’ve ever fucking met.” This is mean. Cruel. Unprecedented.

Venesa’s never been one who needed saving. And I’m not her knight in shining armor.

You can’t erase memories from a brain by whispering sweet words, and even the heaviest of makeup washes away eventually, leaving nothing behind but the ugly truth.

But even as I think the words, a dubious feeling slithers around me, latching on like tentacles, shaky and unsure. I don’t like it.

I’m disgusted with any of them calling themselves Venesa’s “family” when they don’t show up for her in any way that matters, and I’m even more disgusted with the fact I have to sit here and pretend I still want anything to do with the woman next to me, but I don’t know how to get out of this wedding unless I kill my father, and I don’t know if I’m ready to accept that or anything that comes with it.

She’s into that vibrational shit, so maybe I’m hoping it will rub off on me.

I may be pissed off at him, but I’m not dead

“Surprise,” he whispers. My father is bound to the torture table, gagged, bruised, and bloody. “You really did bring me a gift,” I murmur, taking a stride forward. “Happy birthday.”

And maybe this makes me a freak, but having him here still feels erotic. Vulnerable. It makes my skin tingle and my senses spark.

It’s the best birthday present I’ve ever received. I’ve never had anyone who just gets me before, and Enzo Marino? He understands me in a way that transcends the physical.

He did this for me. Nobody has ever shown up for me this way, and it makes my body warm.

I lift her chin, leaving my finger beneath it so she can’t turn away, wishing I could wipe away her confusion, her sadness, and take the brunt of it on my own shoulders just to bring her peace.

My gaze drops to her perfect mouth that I’ve imagined a thousand different times in a hundred different ways.

“In a different life”—I cut her off, pressing even closer until her neck cranes—“I’d kiss you.” My gaze locks on hers, my thumb still skimming back and forth against her lip. “I’d drag you inside, and I’d spend all night taking away the pain he caused.”

“In a different life”—I bend until my mouth is centimeters from hers—“I would do anything to make you mine, and I’d bring you any person who’s wronged you and make them beg for death at your feet. All you’d have to do is say the word.”

Her voice is deep and raspy. Like she’s seconds away from giving in and letting me have her in all the ways I dream about.

“Good night, piccola sirena. Happy birthday.”

A dark look covers her features, and the innocent, gorgeous girl I proposed to washes away like sea-foam being taken out by the tide.