Page 58 of How to Woo the Undead

He held his breath in anticipation, “It’s good?”

“It’s amazing. Why don’t you leave me to press the seams and finish the buttons on your vest. Hyacinth’s downstairs, probably bored stiff of Greggory’s storytelling. Both of you could use a nap. By the time you wake up, I’ll have the ballroom set up and we can all go dancing after dinner?”

“Really?” Austin grinned, releasing all the air in his lungs in relief. She sent him a flat, disapproving stare.

“You know I don’tjokeabout a ball.” Agatha scrutinized his face. Then with a tut, she summoned her iron to her hands.

“You areprettyserious about them,” Austin chortled.

“Good, now shoo. Go on. Get!” Agatha pressed the cold iron to his back playfully as he was ushered out of the room. Austin let the banshee throw him out into the halls of the manor. He glanced over his shoulder at the shut door and couldn’t help the giddiness creeping up in him.We need this. The whole house needs this.There was just something about a ball that put a smile on people’s face. Ridiculously large gowns, food, music, and dancing. Oh, he couldn’t wait to show Hyacinth how good he was at dancing.

He did his best not to skip to the library, fear of rattling the walls as he did. There was a distinct pep in his step as he rounded the hallway. A light song trickled out of his throat in a soft hum. Austin pushed open the library doors that groaned in sleepy protest. Welcomed in by the dying fire, the room was a gentle warm temperature that begged him to curl up in the bear skin rug.Sleep.It enticed him until he came upon the large chairs and found both Greggory and Hyacinth fast asleep. His little brother was surrounded by stacks of books around his chair. A ghoul was curled up in his lap with him while one of the many ghosts read over his shoulder. The tall, elven ghost flipped the page with a flick of his hand. He barely acknowledged Austin as the giant undead turned to Hyacinth. She was tucked under a throw blanket. Tears streaked her cheeks and he would have been worried if there wasn’t an empty vial of Squonk tears beside her.

Scooping his arms under her, he pried her free only to hear the distinct clink of two knitting needles hitting the floor. Hyacinth whined, “No, I’m almost done.”

He realized the blanket she was under was actually part of a jewel-toned project. Austin stopped to admire its length and even pattern. “Did you knit this all night?”

“Hmm?” She furrowed her brow before her weary eyes blinked open. Everything melted away the moment her lips curled and she breathed his name, “Austin.”

“Good morning, my flower,” he whispered, bending as carefully as he could to gather up the little lump of yarn left and the needles she dropped. “Did you stay up all night knitting?”

“Greggory was telling me about—” she cut herself off with a hard, rattling yawn. Then with a smack of her lips, she continued with a hum, “Old Fae. I needed to keep my hands busy so I could pay attention.”

Austin nodded, leaving Greggory to sleep in his favorite place while he took his flower to bed. Greggory was perfectly comfortable in the large armchairs. The plush furniture was like a perfect hammock for the crypt keeper. They were, however, very bad for spines like Hyacinth’s. Careful of her wings, he took her and all her yarn with him. The scampering of claws gave him pause. He glanced over his shoulder and watched a round, black fluff chase after them sluggishly.

“Oh! Snuffles, there you are.”

Austin twisted, holding the library door open for the bunny. Snuffles led the way around the bending hallways of the manor and up the steps. By the time they all made it to the room, the three of them were tuckered out. Austin plopped the knitting accessories on the side table, Hyacinth in the sheets, and Snuggles at the foot of the bed. He’d hardly slipped down intoit before he felt lips against his brow. The smile couldn’t be wiped off his face even if he scrubbed it with steel wool.

“Sweet dreams, Austin,” Hyacinth breathed as she curled up in his arms.

“Sweet dreams,” he murmured back, locking her into his arms. Even with the curtains open and sunlight spilling into the room, they fell fast asleep.

And, while he wouldn’t say they weresweet dreams…at least they weren’thisnightmares.

Saltwaterburns.Itrushedup his nose as he swam. Kicking his legs as hard as he could, he fought to keep his head above water. The fucking witch cackled. Shrieked with delight as she struck the water with more purple lightning. It lit up his whole body. Everything went rigid, unable to escape the invisible restraints of her magic. She walked across the water. Long legs so beautiful and yet ominous. Everything about the witch was a dark cloud. Long, obsidian black hair flowed around her face. Eyes glowing yellow, a raven perched on her shoulder, she was a beautiful nightmare. She was death. And as she crouched in front of him, taking him by the tusks, she purred directly into his face. “Give in…it’ll hurt less.”

Never should have let that witch aboard the ship.

She snapped his tusks off his face as the St. Augustine sank around him. Broken into nothing but parts, the woman with wild, evil eyes stared at him with glee. He descended. Slowly, like she’d weighed him down with rocks. Tucking away his tusksinto her sack, like she did with all the other parts of his crew she’d taken.

Never trust a witch. Never trust those yellowed-eyed Old Fae.

Water. Endless water. That’s the last thing he saw until all the light went out. And he sank into oblivion.

Austindidn’tknowwherethe feeling came from. He only knew it wasdelightful.His whole body tingled. If he were capable of gooseflesh, he’d be covered in it. Something brushed against his chest, then the tops of his thighs. A curious palm, fingertips softer than a butterfly’s wings, explored his skin under his shirt. Then it traveled across his hips down to his thighs. Up then down in a lazy, sweet pattern, it roused him from his slumber. Inch by inch, like an anchor at the bottom of the sea being drug aboard. It took forever, but what a glorious eternity it was. He groaned as fingers dipped below the confines of his pants. Her fingers brushed down along his sensitive skin on the inside of his leg.

It was only after he cracked open his eyes that he even realized Hyacinth was the one drawing little swirls with her fingers around his skin. Another groan left him as her fingers dared closer to his pelvis. His cock was onhighalert. Clearly thesensations were doing wonders for him, but the moment he was conscious it was her teasing his flesh, his cockached. He replayed their day before and his legs shifted involuntarily.

“Good morning,” he whispered, testing the waters.

“Good morning,” she parroted back in a far raspier tone than him. It ran a shiver down his spine. Then her fingers curled around his thick base and his eyes fluttered back shut. Her little giggle against his chest sent him into a tizzy.

“I-I-I didn’t think you would want to,” he panted for air as she continued her design of swirls up his cock. When she reached his tip, she pushed his pants off him. The fabric pooled helplessly at the top of his thighs.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, her face nuzzling against his chest.

“Because you ran away,” he breathed. Unable to open his eyes, unable to do anything but lay there and hope—nay,pray—that she didn’t stop touching him. His hips rutted in tandem with her long, languid strokes.Don’t stop. Oh, please don’t.He was delirious. “Because I upset you.”