Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
And he absolutely would not listen to her insistence that the kiss was just for the cameras.
“It was fake,” she insisted once again.
“Oh, please. You two have so much unresolved tension, it’s giving me chest pains. And I don’t even have a heart.”
“Wait, you don’t have a heart?” she asked, gaping at him.
“Nope.”
“Is that why you’re so obsessed with heart-shaped things?” she asked as they stopped just inside of the door.
“Fun fact,” Selene said, coming up from somewhere in the back of the store. “The modern heart shape we see all over is actually the shape of a woman’s butt when she’s bent over.”
Selene seemed even more ethereal than usual. The air seemed to sparkle around her. Like she was, Iris didn’t know, recharged.
It took her a long moment to realize that the late-night howling from the werewolves wasn’t the only thing that happened on a full moon. All across the surface, covens and solo-practicing witches alike gathered under the moon to dance, to sing, to set intentions.
Iris had no idea what kind of magic Selene had been working on, but the witch was glowing. Even her hair seemed shinier.
“Well, what’s not to love about that?” Arden asked, eyes sparkling as he shot one of those devilishly charming smiles in Selene’s direction.
“Oh, don’t bother with that,” Selene said, waving at his face. “I’m immune to your charms. Tried, tested, and vaccinated.”
Arden was unfazed.
“That’s not immunity, darling. That’s denial with extra sass.” The charm was practically oozing off him. Iris wasn’t even in the path of it, and she could swear she felt some of it clinging to her.
“Who is this?” Selene asked, nodding her chin at Arden.
Was it just Iris’s overactive imagination, or was her witchy friend staying a deliberate distance from the demon?
“Arden. My demonic wedding planner. Arden, this is Selene, my co-conspirator.”
“Ah, yes. The witch trying to ruin my wedding.”
“I believe their utter lack of compatibility is what is ruining it. But, technically, I’m only ruining their engagement; the wedding is collateral damage.” Her chin jerked up, everything about her primed for an argument. Iris could already hear her spiel about the suffrage movement, bra burning, and the ever-present problem of the inequitable division of labor in households. Minus, of course, orcs. Who, apparently, were brutes in the streets, but lovingly attentive husbands and fathers at home.
“You know what? I think I sense longing buried deep in that cold, jaded heart.” Iris watched as Arden stepped closer toward Selene. Even though everything about her friend was sparking warning signs.
“You’re mistaken. That’s just the echo chamber where I keep my apathy.” Selene stepped closer to a display table, pretending that she needed to straighten the stacks. When Iris knew she was simply putting some space between herself and the demon who perhaps saw a bit more of her than she liked.
“Are you sure you’re not just scared of love?” Arden asked.
“No. I’m scared of glitter, huggers, and overhyped books. Love just has terrible PR.”
“Love is the most potent magic of all.”
Iris almost wanted to snort at that. Sure, mermaids were of the romantic sort. But that was cheesy even for her kind.
“Love is a neurochemical betrayal wrapped in bad poetry and cheap flowers.”
“You really don’t believe in love, do you?” Arden asked, the charm slipping to genuine concern.
“I believe in books, caffeine, petty revenge, and the inevitable heat death of the universe. Love is somewhere below those.” Despite her words, Iris could swear she heard a false note in her friend’s voice.
Arden watched her for a moment. “You know, if I planned your love life, I bet you could actually have one.”
“If I let you near my love life, I’d have to be fumigated. So, progress?” Selene asked, looking away from Arden to give Iris her full attention. Like if she tried hard enough, she could pretend the demon and his keen observations didn’t exist at all.
“Well, he hates the bugs and teeth. And the doll almost made him wet himself. But, no. No, he’s just … the same old Finn.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Arden said, pulling the binder from his chest to flash it toward the two women.
“Oh, yes, a carefully orchestrated pap shot. How romantic. That campaign manager of his probably even tipped off the press.”
“Thank you,” Iris said, vindicated. Even if her heart did a little flip each time she saw the pictures of the kiss.
“Oh, come on. Even you have to admit that Finn is leading man material,” Arden insisted. He gestured toward the table of romance novels she’d just straightened.
“Sure, if he is the main character in a cautionary tale about the subjugation of women. I mean, look at her,” Selene said, flinging an arm at Iris. “She’s from a matriarchal culture. Even her own true form is, at a biological level, matriarchal. Her body has to be excited and willing for there to be any sort of sex. And you want to force her to become the pawn in some scheme among surface men?” Selene’s tone was tight, borderline angry.