“No debauchery or mayhem,” I tell him.

He tsks at me. “Now, I have a hard time believing that, Grace. I have seen you in my dreams for a lot of years, and if I know anything, it’s that you’re a wild one.”

“What did you just say about her?” Hudson demands.

“In your dreams?” I ask, confused. “You mean your dreams…”

“Come true? Yes. My mom was a witch, but not a very strong one—even before they slapped a bracelet on her. She died when I was five. My father, on the other hand…I know nothing about him because she never said a word, but he did give me one little present. I can see the future. And I have seen that you are my key to escaping this shithole prison.”

He grins. “And like I said, Grace, I’ve seen you coming for a long time. I’m merely glad you finally got here.” He reaches over and pats my knee, which has Hudson giving him an evil look all over again.

But I get it. I can’t imagine seeing someone coming your whole life who you think can play a role in freeing you, only to have her disappear on you, just when it’s almost time.

I know those weeks he was talking about—and I can tell Hudson knows them, too. It must have been the time I was mated to Jaxon. When I was with him, it must have taken me off the path of following Hudson to prison.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and he looks devastated. I know he’s blaming himself, know that he thinks it’s his fault that I’m here. But if Remy’s seen me all along, doesn’t that prove that Hudson and I were always meant to be mates?

The thought breaks my heart way more than being in this prison ever could. Because this is the real thing. Hudson is the mate the universe gave me, and I’m the mate the universe gave him. But we still can’t be together… If we are, we’ll lose Jaxon. And I know neither of us would ever be able to live with ourselves if that happened.

Still, I reach over and squeeze Hudson’s hand. Because whatever happens between us—whether we find the Crown and break the mating bond or not—there’s a part of me that will never forget that Hudson loves me, warts and all.

Remy is watching us closely, and there’s something in his eyes that makes my heart hurt for him even more. But the second he notices me watching, it disappears and the smart-ass grin is back in place.

“I do have to say one thing, though, Grace. I think you should have held out a little in the mate department.”

“Oh, really?” I ask, keeping a firm grip on Hudson’s hand when I see the fangs come out.

“Yeah.” He gives Hudson another smug once-over. “You totally could have snagged someone with a cheerier personality.”

“Someone like you, you mean?” I ask dryly.

“Me? I’m flattered.” He gives me a faux-shocked look that we both know is total bullshit. “But now that you ask, I do have an opening.”

“Am I sitting here right now or am I fucking invisible?” Hudson asks. “For a guy who wants our help, you sure have a fuckton of nerve.”

Remy looks him straight in the eye. “I’ve been living in this shithole my whole life. Nerve is the only thing I’ve got to my name.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re an asshole who drives everyone away,” Hudson shoots back.

“Hey!” Calder stops braiding her hair long enough to glare at Hudson. “That’s not nice. You should apologize.” She fluffs her bangs. “I’m somebody.”

For a while, Hudson just stares at her, nonplussed, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to laugh. Because the truth is, my mate is a lot of things. Brilliant, funny, self-deprecating, sexy as fuck.

But he is also used to being the biggest diva in any room. And now he’s up against Remy, who uses his appeal like a weapon, and Calder, who is so completely self-absorbed that Hudson’s sarcasm doesn’t have a chance of getting through.

Frankly, I’m amazed he hasn’t started pulling out his hair yet. Then again, that would cause an unsightly bald spot…

“What are you laughing at?” Hudson asks quietly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I give him my best deadpan look. “I’m not laughing at all.”

He rolls his eyes. “You are on the inside. I can feel it.”

“Sorry, I was just…” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Imagining you with a bald spot.”

The look he gives me is so affronted that both Flint and Remy burst out laughing. Calder doesn’t even notice.

“Vampires don’t go bald,” he hisses.

“Which is why it was such a funny thought.” I widen my eyes, going for the innocent look. But the downside of having Hudson live in my head for so long is that he doesn’t believe it for a second.

“Can we focus, please?” he asks. “The sooner we figure this shit out, the better. We need to get home.” He turns back to Remy. “How fast do you think we can make that happen?”

“That depends on the three of you,” he answers. “I want out of this shithole more than anybody here, but there’s no cheating the system.”

“We know the curse is supposed to be unbreakable,” Flint says. “But there’s got to be a loophole, right?”

“There’s no loophole,” Remy says. “But the flowers will—”

“Wait.” Hudson’s eyes narrow. “You know about the flowers?”

Remy sighs. “Which part of ‘seeing the future’ do you not understand?”

“The part where you’re an asshole. Oh, wait, that’s the present and the future. My bad.”

The two of them look like they’re about to get started on another pissing contest, but frankly, I don’t have the energy for it.

Besides, there’s a bigger problem. “I have the flowers, but I have no idea how to use them.”

112

Warlocks Spell

It Like It Is

“I do,” Hudson says.

“What? How? When?” I ask. “I thought you didn’t even believe the flowers would work!”

“I don’t have a clue if they’ll work,” he tells me. “But I’ve seen this kind of magic before. You just press your fingers against the tattoo as though picking the flowers out of thin air, and they’ll come to you. It’s a spell of need.”

“More like desperation.” Flint snorts. And he’s not wrong. Still…

“You. Are. Brilliant!” I tell Hudson. And to hell with our audience and us basically living a soap opera. I lean over and give him one quick but perfect kiss.

Hudson’s brows go up, but he’s totally on board. “There are three flowers,” he murmurs against my lips. “You know, in case you want to show your appreciation for each flower.”

I laugh but give him two more quick kisses, because I want them as much as he apparently does.

“This is awesome!” I say once I’m settled in a spot on the ground. “I’ve spent the last umpteen hours worried to death that we wouldn’t be able to get them.”

“Umm, Grace?” Flint interrupts. “I hate to be the one to burst your very happy bubble, but we still have a problem.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“There are three flowers. Counting the blacksmith, there are four of us—”

“Five,” Remy interrupts.

“Umm, six,” Calder reminds us sweetly.

“Okay, fine,” Flint says. “Counting the blacksmith, there are six of us who need to escape and only three flowers to help us do it. Can we use half a flower per person instead, you think?”

“Yeah, and only end up looking half dead?” Remy says skeptically. “That gets us a trip to Bianca’s infirmary, and there ain’t nobody who wants to go there.

“Besides, they’re really small flowers.” He looks at my tattoos doubtfully. “And if it’s the same blacksmith I think you’re referring to, he’s a really big guy. Half might kill his welding hand, but that’s about it.”

“Vander Bracka, a giant who makes magical cuffs?” I ask, just so we’re clear what blacksmith we need—’cause it wouldn’t be awkward to break out the wrong one or anything.

Remy nods. “Yup. That’s him.”

“Well then, we’re back to where we started,” I say. “We’ve got nothing.”

“Not nothing,” Hudson tells me. “You and Flint can still find the blacksmith, and the three of you can escape.”

“I’m not okay with that,” I tell him.

“Umm, me neither,” Calder says. “What makes her so special?”

Hudson lifts a brow. “She brought the flowers?”

“Yes, but we’ve been waiting for the girl with the flowers forever. I don’t think it’s fair that we’re not even in the running to leave with her—especially since we all know they’ll look best on me.”

“Who cares who they’ll look best on?” Flint asks. “We’re going to eat them.”

She fluffs her hair, shrugs. “I’m just saying, aesthetics are important. And mine are obviously the best.”

Flint stares at her for a second, like he can’t quite decide if she’s real. Then he shakes his head as if to clear it and says, “Here’s an idea, aesthetics aside. How about we come up with a plan that gets everybody free? What’s the point of having all this awesomeness in one group if we can’t figure this out?”

“Aww, you’re so sweet,” Calder tells him, then stage-whispers to Remy. “Flint called me awesome.”