Gods & Monsters (Serpent & Dove #3) by Shelby Mahurin

Célie blinked, the indignation in her eyes winking out. Her mouth parted in awe. “King Auguste’s entire treasury?”

“Indeed. Unless, of course, our fair maiden objects?” He extended his free hand toward me, but I knocked it aside with a scowl. Ass. “As I thought.” He tutted softly. “You are too afraid.”

Paralysis crept up my spine as I looked between them all. Though I opened my mouth to speak—to vehemently object to this foolish game—the words caught, and different words altogether spilled out instead. Honest ones. “I’m not afraid. I’m terrified. What if he does try to strangle me or stick a knife through my heart? What if he doesn’t remember at all? What if he doesn’t . . .” I swallowed hard and blinked back fresh tears. “What if he doesn’t love me?”

Beau wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “Then I will become a rich man.”

“You’re already a rich man.”

“A very rich man.”

“You’re an ass, Beau.”

He brushed a brotherly kiss across my temple. “Do we have a wager?”

I rested my head on his shoulder as noise sounded from the path, and Reid stormed into sight, right on time. Jean Luc followed at a wary distance. Jean Luc. It was a mark of the last twenty-four hours that I didn’t bat an eye.

“Yes,” I said. The word tasted like hope. It felt like armor. I allowed it to wrap around me, bolstering my spirit and protecting my heart. Reid had fallen in love with me once, and I still returned that love fiercely. It was special. It was precious. And I would fight for it. “Yes, we have a wager.”





Holes in the Tapestry


Reid

The witch called Lou stepped from the crown prince with a smirk as I approached. I did a double take. Whereas before her eyes had shone with grief—with near unfathomable loss—they now sparkled with wicked intent. I frowned as the other witch, Coco, stepped in front of her, breaking my line of sight.

Was she—I stared at them incredulously—was she pulling Lou’s neckline down?

I averted my eyes, furious, but glanced back as Célie leaned over to pinch Lou’s cheeks.

Beside me, Jean Luc broke into a jog. He didn’t seem to notice Lou’s décolletage. He saw only Célie. Spinning her around, he cupped her face and kissed her. Straight on the mouth. In front of us all. Though Célie’s eyes flew open in surprise, she didn’t protest. Indeed, she even wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling against his lips. “You’re here,” she said happily.

He returned her smile before resting his forehead against hers. I stared at them. I hadn’t seen Jean smile since we were children. “I’m here,” he breathed.

Something shifted in her expression. Her smile faltered. “You’re here.” She blinked up at him in confusion. “Why are you here?”

“Yes, Jean.” I stalked forward, careful to keep one eye on Lou. She kept both on me. Unease snaked down my spine, further inflaming my fury. “Why are you here?”

Lou sauntered forward, still grinning. I refused to retreat a step. Not a single one. “I could pose the same question to you, Chass.” She batted her lashes and trailed a finger across my chest. “Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

I caught her wrist and stepped closer. Baring my teeth. I longed for my Balisarda. “Hardly. You’ve clearly tampered with my memories, witch. I want them back.”

She tilted her face toward mine, unperturbed. “Hmm. I don’t think I can help you with that.”

“You can, and you will.”

“Only the witch who cast the enchantment can break it.” Coco’s hip knocked into Lou as she swept past us, pushing Lou flush against me. She winked. “In this case, that means you.”

My jaw clenched, and I lifted my hands to Lou’s shoulders to forcibly remove her. “You lie.”

“Why would we lie? Trust us when we say you aren’t exactly fun to be around—not like this anyway. If there was a way for us to reverse your memory, we would’ve already done it.” Coco lifted a shoulder as she stepped on the path. “You’ll need to do it, or no one will.”

“A pity, that.” Lou thrust her pack against my chest. I caught it instinctively. “Guess you’ll have to stay with us until you figure it out.” She followed Coco without a backward glance, swaying her hips as she went. My lip curled in disgust. She wore trousers. Fitted ones. Leather. They adhered to her delicate shape in a distasteful way—indecent, even. Shaking my head, I tore my gaze away to stare at the pack in my hands.

I suspected she was anything but delicate.

“Answer the question, Jean.” Célie’s voice reclaimed my attention. She scowled up at Jean Luc, fierce and unrelenting. “You said the priests—the king—requested your presence at the conclave.”

“They did.”

“You disobeyed them?”

“I . . .” He tugged at his collar. “I had to see you.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why? Why are you here? Did you”—those accusing eyes cut to mine—“did he think I couldn’t do this? Did he think I would die at the first opportunity?”

“You did almost fall from a cliff,” Jean Luc muttered defensively. When Célie’s face contorted in shock, in outrage, he added, “What? You did. I spoke with Father Achille.”