Page 26 of What the Hex

“My sisters said the same thing.”

Surely, he’d heard that wrong. “Why would they think that?”

“According to them, you are far too cute and sweet to be with an asshole like me.”

He didn’t sound offended, though. More…indulgent.

“I didn’t know you had siblings. How old are they?”

“Seventeen. Twins.” Storm chuckled and shook his head. “They’re a pain in my ass, but what can you do?”

“Right.” Somehow, he doubted their situations were similar at all.

“What about you?”

“Two sisters and a brother. All older.” He moved down the row and started stacking chairs at the other end. “We’re, uh, not that close.”

“You still talk, though?”

“We do.” Although, he hadn’t decided if that was a good thing.

“Well, that’s something. I mean, if they didn’t care, they wouldn’t bother at all.”

King had never thought about it that way. He just assumed they loved bullying and mocking him. What Storm said made sense, though. If his siblings actually hated him, they would just pretend like he didn’t exist.

Like their dad did.

Either way, it was probably best to change the subject. “You know, this event wasn’t nearly as chaotic as I expected.”

Storm laughed. “I have a feeling we can thank Miss Maddock for that. These things—” He waved his hand vaguely toward the stage. “—aren’t usually so chill. The public ones are the worst.”

“Public?”

“Yeah, we just announce we’re going to be somewhere and don’t sell tickets. Those are a night—”

A loud, echoing growl had them both jerking toward the exit. A small crowd had gathered in front of the doors, and it took a moment for King to figure out who the sound had come from.

“It’s Cyrus.” Eyes wide, fangs bared, their head of security looked beyond crazed. “Let’s go.”

Abandoning their task, they made their way across the ballroom to the hellhound. A few feet away, however, Storm grabbed him by the arm and held him back.

“That’s close enough.”

“Get away from me!” Cyrus snarled as he shoved at the other security guards. “Get your fucking hands off me! You can’t keep me here.”

Keep him there?

“No one is trying to stop you from leaving,” Brenden, a new guard, told him. He was doing his best to speak calmly, but it couldn’t have been easy with almost two hundred pounds of hellhound raging against him. “You have to calm down, though.”

“Where am I?” Cyrus demanded. “What is this place?”

In that moment, King finally recognized the look on the guard’s face. Sheer and utter terror.

“Where is my mate?” Cyrus threw a punch, but it sailed wide, throwing him off balance. “What did you do to Emrys?”

Thankfully, the pixie arrived then. Well, arrived might have been too tame of a word for it. He was literally dragged into the ballroom by two of the housekeeping staff.

“Emrys!” Struggling against his fellow guards, Cyrus called his mate’s name twice more. “Get away from him! Don’t touch him!”