Page 12 of Cursed with Benefits

I opened the door to show him. The light inside blinked on.

He recoiled. “It lives,” he said quietly.

“It refrigerates,” I corrected. “Big difference.”

He didn’t look convinced.

Then Alexa chimed in from the counter in her mechanical voice: “It’s Monday. Don’t forget to take the trash out.”

Cristian froze. Every muscle locked. His gaze whipped toward the device. “Who speaks?”

I sighed. “Alexa.”

He pointed. “You keep her imprisoned in the box?”

I tried not to laugh. “She’s not real.”

“She spoke.”

“She’sprogrammed.”

“She iscaptive.”

I groaned. “You know what, sure. I’m a witch, Alexa’s my familiar, and this fridge is our portal to hell.”

He nodded, looking genuinely thoughtful. “That explains much.”

While he investigated the appliances like an overcautious archaeologist, I sat at the table and ate my cereal in numbsilence. When I looked up again, he was still there. Still impossibly tall, still naked, still watching me likeIwas the strangest part of this entire situation.

I swallowed another spoonful. My mind cleared a bit now that I had something to soak up the wine in my stomach, and I started to accept this was in factnota hallucination.

“I really need to get the hell out of this house,” I muttered.

He tilted his head, serious as ever. “That would be unwise.”

Was that a threat? Screw the house-sitting money. Screw the fact that people were subletting my apartment. I was leaving. I didn’t care if there was a naked vampire, a curse, or an ancient family of ghosts judging my Target cardigan—I was getting in my car and driving far, far away.

My keys were somewhere. Shoes were optional. The door was right there.

I made it three steps before the weirdest feeling hit me.

It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t reason. It was…wrongness.Like walking out of the kitchen mid-cup of coffee and realizing you’d left the stove on. My hand was already on the doorknob when my chest tightened. Not sharp—just deep, like my heart was tugging a string I couldn’t see.

I froze.

Behind me, Cristian’s voice came, calm and irritated in that unbothered vampire way.

“You can try,” he said, “but it will not work.”

I turned slowly.

He was standing a few feet away, still gloriously unclothed and somehow looking likeIwas the one being indecent. “Excuse me?”

“You cannot leave.”

“Can’t or shouldn’t?”

“Both,” he said flatly. “We are bound.”