Wicked Hexes
Amelia Hutchins
Wicked Hexes
by
Amelia Hutchins
Wicked Hexes
Smashwords Edition
Published on Smashwords by Amelia Hutchins.
Copyright ©October2019 Amelia Hutchins
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book in its entirety and in portions is the sole property of Amelia Hutchins.
Wicked Hexes©2019 by Amelia Hutchins. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the platform it was taken from and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Authored By: Amelia Hutchins
Copy edited by: E & F Indie Services
Edited by: E & F Indie Services
Published by: Amelia Hutchins
Published in (United States of America)
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Dedication
This book is for the forgotten souls, and the endless loves that follow us throughout lifetimes. Also, to my tribe, thank you for doing what you do, and always enjoying the stories that I pour my heart and soul into. Love your faces.
Also by Amelia Hutchins
The Fae Chronicles
Fighting Destiny
Taunting Destiny
Escaping Destiny
Seducing Destiny
Unraveling Destiny
Embracing Destiny - Coming 2019 (Final Book)
The Elite Guards
(Part of the Fae Chronicles)
A Demon’s Dark Embrace
Claiming the Dragon King
A Winter Court
A Demon’s Plaything
A Guardian’s Diary
Stands Alone
Darkest Before Dawn
Death before Dawn
Midnight Rising - TBA (Final Book)
Playing with Monsters series
(Part of the Fae Chronicles)
Playing with Monsters
Sleeping with Monsters
Becoming his Monster
Last Monster Book TBA
Wicked Knights series
Oh, Holy Knight (Standalone alternative POV to If She’s Wicked)
If She’s Wicked
Midnight Coven Books
Forever Immortal
Immortal Hexes
Wicked Hexes
Upcoming Series
A Crown of Ashes
Series Order
If you’re following the series for the Fae Chronicles, Elite Guards, and Monsters, reading order is as follows:
Fighting Destiny
Taunting Destiny
Escaping Destiny
Seducing Destiny
A Demon’s Dark Embrace
Playing with Monsters
Unraveling Destiny
Sleeping with Monsters
Claiming the Dragon King
Oh, Holy Knight
Becoming his Monster
The Winter Court
A Demon’s Plaything
If She’s Wicked
Embracing Destiny 2019
Warning
This book is dark. It’s sexy, hot, and intensely twisted. The author is human; you are as well. Is the book perfect? It’s as perfect as I could make it. Are there mistakes? Probably, then again, even the New York Times’ top published books have minimal errors because, like me, they have human editors. There are words in this book that won’t be found in the standard dictionary because they were created to set the stage for a paranormal-urban fantasy world. Words such as ‘sift,’ ‘glamoured’ and ‘apparate’ are common in paranormal books and give better description to the action in the story than can be found in standard dictionaries. They are intentional and not mistakes.
About the hero: chances are you may not fall instantly in love with him, that’s because I don’t write men you instantly love; you grow to love them. I don’t believe in instant-love. I write flawed, raw, caveman-like alpha-holes that eventually let you see their redeeming qualities. They are aggressive, alpha-holes, one step above a caveman when we meet them. You may not even like him by the time you finish this book, but I promise you will love him by the end of this series.
About the heroine: There is a chance that you might think she’s a bit naïve or weak, but then again who starts out as a badass? Badasses are a product of growth, and I am going to put her through hell, and you get to watch her come up swinging every time I knock her on her ass. That’s just how I do things. How she reacts to the set of circumstances she is put through, may not be how you as the reader, or I as the author would react to that same situation. Everyone responds differently to circumstances and how Laura responds to her challenges, is how I see her as a character and as a person.
I don’t write love stories: I write fast-paced, knock you on your ass, make you sit on the edge of your seat wondering what happens in the next kind of books. If you’re looking for cookie-cutter romance, this isn’t for you. If you can’t handle the ride, un-buckle your seatbelt and get out of the roller-coaster car now. If not, you’ve been warned. If nothing outlined above bothers you, carry on and enjoy the ride!
Wicked Hexes
Prologue
Braydon
Deep in the Louisiana Bayou
Three months before the ball
“You understand that if I do this, I will be the villain to her,” I snapped, staring at the ancient crone.
“Do you want to save her? Because the only way this ends is with her hating you,” she shrugged; her hand cradled the glowing crystal ball that showed me the high mountains of Washington where my mate stared endlessly at the darkening skies. “She won’t see it coming. If she suspects it is us summoning her to this celebration, we lose before we ever start to unravel the curse her mother placed on the two of you. She must hate you for a while. Once her transformation has started, you can make her love you again.”
“And if she hates me? What then, crone?” I demanded, staring at the glowing quartz sphere that showed me every delicate line of Laura’s face.
“Do you love her enough to let her go, my king?” she asked cautiously.
“I’ve loved her for a thousand years and will love her until I am no more.”
“Then make your mo
ve, and I will speak to Thea to uphold her end of our bargain. You can handle being her villain until you are once more her prince, Braydon. To save her, you have to destroy her. She may hate you in the end, but to hate you, she must first live long enough to do so.”
“Then let it begin, because my pretty little witch is praying to those stars that I never find her. If this doesn’t work, if she dies, know that I will follow her into the next life to be with her. She is the moon to my wolf, and without her at my side, the bayou is only a swamp instead of a kingdom.” I stared at the witch while her eyes dropped to Laura’s. “When what I truly am is revealed, she may never trust me again.”
“You’re part vampire, part wolf. You’re the King of the Hybrids, Braydon. She loved you before, when she thought you were nothing but a washed-up, bitten wolf. She didn’t love you for what you were; she loved you for you. Count your stars for that, boy. It’s a rare breed of woman who loves a penniless man. Well then, we must begin, shall we?” she smiled, running her fingers over the ball to erase the image.
“I’m ready to hunt my little witch,” I admitted. “Let’s begin.”
Chapter 1
Laura Cheveron
The wind howled gently through the bayou, ruffling my hair. The heat in Louisiana was unbearable, even in October. The scent of late-blooming flowers and sage filled the air. The sound of soft music flowed throughout the mansion, creating a delicate mix of dark and light to match the witches who had gathered for the celebration of Samhain and the promise of an abundant fall harvest.
Inside of the ballroom, couples danced and mingled, reminding me of another time and place long ago, where I’d once done the same with the man I’d loved. Love, it was such a tricky word. It was a flowery word of lies, created by poets of old who sang ballads and sagas of what it was like to experience such a strange emotion. The tale of love was full of lies fed to the heart to make women believe that there was one man out there; one man who would make her heart sing. What those poets and bards forgot to mention was that, by loving someone, you left your hope open, unshielded, and handed your enemies the one thing that could destroy you.
Once upon a time, long, long ago, I’d loved. I’d given Braydon the one thing only I could give him. I’d given him my heart, and by doing so, I’d cursed us to a fate worse than hell. He’d been born mortal, turned werewolf by a curse of fate, and he’d been my enemy. An enemy I’d fallen in love with and dared to dream of a future with.
My mother, learning of my betrayal, cursed us both. Every fifty years, he was reborn to find me, and the moment I fell in love, it turned him berserk, and he went mad with the need to destroy me. One moment he would be my sweet, gentle giant, and the next, he would attack me until it forced me to end his life. Every rebirth, I found him, loved him, and then murdered him to survive. That was also why I’d given up life, living, the so-called daily shit I’d endured to repeat the cycle of the curse she had given us.
My gaze moved to Hope, her ice-blue dress enhancing the sheer beauty of her violet-blue eyes. Ruby-red lips smiled wide, revealing her dimples as suitor after suitor requested to dance with her. Her midnight-colored hair had been twisted into a stylish updo that suited her heart-shaped face perfectly. I’d gone all out on her, pulling in favors from witches and beauticians to give her an entrance into the witch’s society befitting our bloodline. Judging from the glares and jealousy floating in the air from the other witches present, it had worked.
My dress was a simple evening dress. The back was held closed with three thin straps, while the front had a deep V-line that exposed the globes of my breasts. The flowing skirt stopped at the ankle, leaving my jeweled sandals exposed. The only jewelry I wore was a thin silver body harness that wrapped around my exposed stomach and latched to the thin, delicate necklace that held a crescent moon in a Celtic pattern, the triple Goddess symbol. I had pulled my hair back, delicate braids twisted into a simple style that left my shoulders naked. It wasn’t stylish according to Hope, but it was elegant and allowed my beauty to stand out against the finery we wore tonight for the annual witch’s ball.
I lifted the glass of scotch to my lips and inhaled the rich aroma. My eyes wandered the room, passing from Hope and her newest dance partner to the beautiful setting that we stood within. Spanish moss was hanging from the marble pillars that outlined the courtyard. Midnight blue fabric covered the tables, and a spell ignited the air, lighting a glowing orb suspended in the air by magic. Candles had been lit within the sconces, marking the era of the old world for which we’d come. Overall, it was a simplistic beauty that shone with magic.
Magic ignited the surrounding air with power, unavoidable with how many witches were gathered in such a confined space. My naked arms covered in goosebumps as the sense of being watched took root in my center. I surveyed the area, finding nothing out of place. I couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness that seemed to have come out of nowhere.
“She’s her mother’s daughter, isn’t she?” Alyson asked, her crystal blue eyes smiling as she placed a hand on mine and nodded her head. “Don’t look so worried, Laura. Not everyone is against the old laws, as Avery assumes. I, for one, have sampled many a vampire within the sheets and don’t fault her for her actions. The ancient ways we once followed are just that: archaic and a thing of the past.”
“Hope was born both witch and vampire. It makes her a target for those who are living in the past.” I wrinkled my nose as James Jameson bowed low at his waist to Hope before trying to cut in on her dance partner.
“Hope has the power of two ancient bloodlines running through her veins. She is both Halverson and Cheveron. Hecate have mercy on anyone who trespasses against that child, because her parents would not give an ounce. Blessed is the girl who survives diversity and can still smile with such innocence. Blessed be, sister,” she said with sparkling blue eyes as she moved away from me.
“Blessed be,” I muttered, taking another deep drink of the aged scotch.
The foreboding sensation intensified, and I set the glass chalice down and moved toward the ancient Cyprus trees that lined the outer courtyard. My hand fanned my face as I gazed out into the backyard that bordered one of the copses. In the distance, wolves bayed, while other wildlife creatures thrived in the endless swamps of the south. It was one thing I missed about this place; sure, Washington had wildlife running leaps and bounds, but the swamps carried a history with witches that hummed with a life of its own.
“Laura,” Kade growled beside me. I turned, smiling at the male who had kept in touch with me through the years, even though I’d thwarted his attempts to date me with my scorned view of love.
“Kade,” I nodded, acknowledging his presence. “You look well tonight.” He did. He had tied his dark hair behind his neck, and his black suit fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and muscular frame.
“You look otherworldly,” he said breathlessly, observing me as I turned fully toward him. His dark eyes dipped to my exposed cleavage and then lowered to take in the silver chains that adorned my torso. “I wonder if you’d give me the honor of a dance?” he asked.
“Dancing is for fools; you can offer to buy me a drink.”
“Drinks are free,” he smirked, tilting his head while watching me. “All the same, I’d enjoy your company while you drank it. Maybe if you get drunk enough, you will forget him tonight, and allow me to cherish you.”
“Flirtatious as ever, warlock,” I chided, allowing him to claim my hand. His lips touched the back of it before he pulled me with him, directing us toward the benches that faced the open bayou.
We sat facing couples who swayed to the music as the magic wafted through the courtyard, fueled by the endless power of witches who had come from the scattered covens. Once a year, we gathered to celebrate Samhain, to give thanks to the Goddess for the power that ran through our veins.
Traditionally, Samhain was from the old world. A time
when the veil between worlds thinned, allowing creatures and spirits in through the Otherworld. We honored those who had come before us, ancestors who, for this one day, could cross the barrier to visit the living. It was also a time when we released old magic and energy to bring new, more powerful magic into our veins.
“Can you sense it as well?” Kade asked, pulling my attention away from the couples to stare into his darkened gaze.
“The unease? Yes,” I whispered. “Dark magic is present here. Its intent is unclear to me. I feel it though, oily and slithering through the celebration.”
“You are of dark magic, so you among a select few could sense it. Few have been able to dip their toes into it without losing their souls. I envy you that ability, woman.”
“Don’t be; with it comes an endless need to dip your entire foot into it.” I closed my eyes, allowing my senses to seek the dark magic that slipped through the gathering. “Curious, as the sage burns to ward it off,” I muttered, opening my eyes, accepting a chalice of scotch and mulled cider from the server who stopped at the table.
“Not as curious as to why you have remained celibate for the last fifty years,” he chuckled, pulling my attention from the drinks to his eyes.
“Forty-nine years, and the reasoning is simple. I cannot love, and while I would enjoy scratching the itch, it’s pointless for me. I am cursed; I cannot have any pleasure without Braydon. I cannot feel anything without him or his touch. My life is very much black and white, and he the only color I see. You know this, and you deserve someone who can love you, Kade. I am not her. I want that for you as your friend. Besides, why ruin a good thing?” I asked softly, hiding the twisting pain that the memories of Braydon drudged up. “Not to mention, you at least have someone to love, what with having created a life that depends on you.”
