Page 27 of What the Hex

It took nearly ten minutes for Emrys to calm his mate and convince him that no was trying to abduct, murder, maim, or otherwise threaten them. Even then, as he allowed himself to be led away, Cyrus looked wild and, honestly, dangerous.

The ballroom fell eerily quiet after that. The remaining employees kept casting glances at each other as if looking for answers, but no one seemed to know what to say.

King, however, was more convinced than ever that something wasn’t right at Blackhaven Manor. One employee having an uncharacteristic outburst was one thing. Two in the span of half an hour didn’t exactly feel like a coincidence.

He also had a bad feeling that Cyrus wouldn’t be the last. But why?

What the heck was going on?

Chapter eight

An hour later, when Storm entered his suite, he had the strangest sensation that he had forgotten something important, but he had no idea what. Of course, if he could remember what he’d forgotten, it wouldn’t be forgotten.

Or something like that.

Whatever.

He’d been riding a wave of adrenaline for hours, and it had finally started to ebb. Coming down always left him tired and a little disconcerted, so he wasn’t too concerned. Besides, if he really had forgotten something important, King would remind him.

His mate was good with things like schedules and lists and organization. Hell, the guy was good at everything. Talking, walking, smiling, singing. Okay, so he hadn’t heard him sing, but King probably had a fantastic voice.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he was obsessed with the guy. Not in a creepy way, though, but in a perfectly acceptable, non-serial killer kind of way.

“Storm, are you even listening to me?”

“Absolutely.” He hadn’t heard a word. “I love listening to you talk.”

“Uh, okay.” Closing the door behind him, King paused in the entryway and studied him with a furrowed brow. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Just tired and hungry. Why?”

“It’s nothing.” The concern in his eyes didn’t dissipate, though. “So, what do you want to eat? Chicken and vegetables? A salad?”

Storm scrunched one side of his nose. If King wanted him to eat those things, he would, but it didn’t sound that appealing.

“Or not.” King chuckled. “Okay, Tex, what do you want?”

“A burger. With cheese and bacon. Oh, and fries.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at his mate. “And a milkshake.”

King stared at him for a full minute before he sighed and retrieved his cellphone from his jacket pocket. “Priya is going to kill me.”

Storm stiffened, and a low growl vibrated in his chest. “I would never let anyone hurt you.”

That same mask of concern settled over his mate’s face again. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

The tension drained out of him, and he stood upright with a bright smile. “Right as…as…”

“Rain?” King suggested.

“That’s the one.”

“Right.” He dragged the word out as his face became more and more pinched. “I’ll order room service. Why don’t you go jump in the shower?”

Storm really didn’t want to leave his mate, but he couldn’t deny him, either. If that was what King wanted, that was what he would get.

“Okay. I’ll be fast.”

“It’ll be at least half an hour before the food to gets here,” King muttered, his attention on his phone screen. “Take your time.”