Page 125 of Hateful Prince

“Undo what? The wards? No. Well, I mean, yeah, I could if I had enough time and knew exactly what I was working with, but I have less than an hour. This isn’t the sort of spell you want to wing. I could blow the whole place up. Create a giant sinkhole. Open a gaping, angry vagina in the middle of the Highlands.”

“What?”

Yeah, what?

“Never mind. The point is, this isn’t something to fuck around with. That spell is old and powerful. I’ll need the full force of my coven to get it handled.”

“So what are you going to do? Go through with it?”

“At least you’ll be safe here?”

“For eternity.”

“But you have your mate, that’s something, right?”

“I’m disappointed in you, Belladonna. Where’s the fiery little witch I met when I first came to Ravenscroft? That woman would never allow this to happen. She’d move heaven and hell for the people she considers part of her family.”

“I’m gonna need you to trust me.”

Enough of that. The Belladonna witch didn’t owe us anything. If we wanted out of here, we’d find a way. I’d take them all to the underworld if need be. Well, I would if it was possible.

“Puffed-up stuffed shirts think they’re better than me. Can hardly wipe their own arses without my help.”

Nope.

“If everything goes to plan, my next guest will be arriving soon.”

Interesting, but not helpful.

“S-something feels off about this p-place, sugar.”

“I know. I feel it too.”

That’s more like it.

“W-we should get out of h-here. I d-don’t care h-how important Gavin is.”

“I wish we could. Is it just me, or do you feel like she’s going to pop out of some dark corner and try to end it all over again?”

“N-no, sugar. It’s n-not you. But w-we kicked h-her ass. Sh-she can’t be b-back.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“As s-sure as Gabriel is.”

“We should try and contact him. He said it wasn’t over. What if he knows more now?”

“N-not a b-bad idea.”

Gabriel. Not the angel? Surely not. But Lilith mentioned him as well.

“What are you up to, Messenger of God?”

Part of me expected him to pop up in a flurry of wings and leather, but he remained suspiciously absent. Suspicious only because he was clearly connected to what was happening here. Especially with Lilith’s warning about coincidences.

“Blimey, Oz, for someone dancing with the man of his dreams, you look frightfully miserable.”

“I’m sorry, Bru. It’s not you. It’s just so... loud tonight.”