Fangs and Fur- Beta Read Along
All rights reserved. Copyright © 2025 by LA Magill. All distribution rights reserved for the exclusive use of Wicked Women LLC.
Dili didn’t need the forest to guide her home, especially in daylight. The sun beat down on her face, but it couldn’t warm the cold dread nestling deeper in her stomach with every step she took away from the cave.
She didn’t want to go back. She wasn’t ready. And they didn’t need her.
She had only made it twenty minutes on her journey home when she felt it. The forest held its breath, waiting. Dili paused, looking around, but she wasn’t imagining it. She let out a disgruntled sigh and stopped.
“Please, forgotten divines, don’t let my patience run out on me now,” she murmured.
The witch crossed her arms over her chest while she waited. She couldn’t help tapping her toe on the ground.
It didn’t take long before she heard it. She looked northwest, toward town. Just as she turned her head, Hadrian appeared. One moment, anticipation thickened the air; the next, a sudden wind blasted past her. It caught her skirts and whipped her short hair behind her shoulders, just as it did to the vampire, though his billowing cloak and long locks looked far more impressive.
“Jasmine better be home if you’re already back,” Dili grumbled.
“She’s helping herself to a big breakfast as we speak,” Hadrian said. “Toad’s watching over her.”
Dili grunted. The vampire hadn’t earned her trust, but she knew Toad would be exactly where Hadrian said he was. Her familiar could be as protective as he was bold. Jasmine would be safe enough as long as he stayed by her side, for now.
The witch suspected Hadrian had carried the girl home if he was back so quickly, though she had only one guess why his return was so urgent. She wanted nothing to do with whatever business the vampire had with the woman she’d left behind in memory.
“I suppose I must take your word for it,” Dili said. “Now. If you’ll excuse me.”
She stepped past the vampire and continued toward home. There was much to do before her appointment with Jasmine, the first of which was devouring a heaping plate of hand-pulled noodles, immediately followed by a hot bubble bath.
To her surprise, though, the vampire took one long step backward instead of forward, putting him squarely in her path instead of heading back to the cave.
Dili glared at him. “How rude.”
No trace of amusement, teasing glimmer, or taunting glint shone in his eyes as he stared down at her. She’d barely known the vampire, but she thought she understood him well enough to be wary of the gaze without gleam.
“You figured it out, didn’t you?”
“I beg your pardon?” she demanded.
Hadrian paused. “You know who I am, don’t you?”
She placed her hands on her hips and lifted her chin, smirking at him.
For the shortest of seconds, Dili thought he believed her bluff. His eyes rounded, his eyebrows lifted, and his lips almost parted—then they stretched into a sly smile.
“No, you don’t.” Then, he dropped his voice into a smug tone. “But you are older than I thought.”
She arched one eyebrow at his emphasis. “And you’re quite young for the friends you keep.”
A sunny smile lifted Hadrian’s expression, and his chest swelled. Pride radiated from him, but it wasn’t the same goading arrogance Dili had expected. Reverence filled his voice when he spoke.
“I hold the second-fastest record for finding the Misty Gates, and I’m the youngest to open them.”
Dili knew the doors by a different name, but there was no mistaking the place he dignified.
“By yourself?” she blurted.
Hadrian winked at her. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“I find it strange for a vampire to seek the Lotus of the Sun,” she said.
Hadrian shrugged. “I’m a man of many mysteries… but you’re the one with something to hide.”
Dili mimicked his wink, hoping she looked casual.
The vampire’s pupils grew. His line of sight darted below her face, as the tips of his fangs emerged.
“That was not an invitation,” Dili said quickly, with an edge to her tone.
Hadrian’s gaze flicked back to hers, but he didn’t look abashed in the slightest. The green of his eyes shone—pretty—and the skin of his cheeks darkened, though it could hardly be a flush.
“I wasn’t imagining biting you.”
The witch nearly choked on her own breath. She couldn’t help but avert her gaze because a spark within began to heat up, steaming all over until her cheeks flamed and her insides simmered.
She was… glowing.
She hadn’t glowed in so long that the feeling felt raw and different and quite uncomfortable. She would have done something about it if there had been any counter-cast in the world that could undo such a spark.
Such a spark was just like noticing; it came from her. It was magic not meant for talking to, but listening for.
Dili did not want to listen, though, and would have regretted it if she had. So, she chose to do something she thought she’d regret less, and inflamed that spark into anger.
“Move, or I will make you.”
Hadrian glanced down at her extended hand, then stepped aside with a curt bow. The witch stalked forward, moderately relieved the vampire had listened and immoderately lamenting that he hadn’t. Grinding her teeth so hard her jaw hurt and curling her fists so tight her nails dug at her palms gave her some outlet for her riled rage.
She expected the vampire wouldn’t leave her alone, so it didn’t surprise her when he kept pace by her side. Still aggravated her, though. He practically waltzed through raised roots and cutting terrain that sometimes slowed her down to hands and knees. She strictly avoided checking his expression during the most challenging bits.
The vampire respected her silence for almost an hour, simply watching her struggle. When she came to a boggy stretch that had soaked her left sock the night before, the witch finally came to a halt. She stared at the muddy puddles sullenly before sagging against a nearby tree.
Dili may not have wearied like a human, or even other witches, but she was teetering on the verge of exhaustion after a night of hiking instead of sleeping with only a few snacks to sustain her. She withdrew three small vials from her right pocket, all full of bright orange carbonated liquid but with different colored bubbles—sunflower yellow, grass green, and coffee brown. They popped with a satisfying fizz when she uncorked them.
She gulped them down as quickly as she could manage with the bubbles. The first one tasted sweet, but the second and third tasted sour and sourer. The longer the brew stayed on the tongue, the stronger the reaction became. Unfortunately, there was no mitigating the next part.
“I need you to leave now,” she announced.
Hadrian cocked his head at her. He sat on a thick branch thirteen feet above her head, leaning his back against the tree trunk. She knew it couldn’t be that comfortable with one leg dangling down like that, but he certainly lounged like it was.
“Whatever for?” the vampire asked.
“For the only reason that matters. Because I told you to,” she snapped.
Hadrian grinned. “What were those potions you just drank?”
She scowled at him. He smirked back.
“Let me guess. You’re going to turn into a giant and skip all the way home.”
“Now, vampire,” she said.
“No, no. You wouldn’t need privacy for that, would you?”
“Do not make me repeat myself.”
“Oh. Oh!”
Dili did not like his gloating tone, or the arrogant look in his eye as he pushed away from the tree. He dropped down right in front of her, far too close for her liking.
“Do they get rid of your clothes?” he asked.
His sultry voice wormed its way through her anger, but she stomped on the spark before she glowed again. It helped that the potions were already taking effect; otherwise, she might not have reacted in time.
“They make me pee, you divines’ damned fool!” she shouted. “Now leave me be!”
Her words wiped the arrogance off Hadrian’s face, but that wide-eyed surprise lasted a fleeting second before he burst into full-bellied laughter. The deep sound resonated in her ears, and if she hadn’t felt wave after wave of energy coming back, she might not have had the strength to squash the spark a second time.
“Is that all?” he eventually asked.
“Just… go,” Dili said. “I’d really rather not make you.”
Hadrian paused. “Do you have time until…?”
“Excuse me?”
“I can run you home in less than ten minutes, which I imagine would be more comfortable than shitting behind a tree,” he said.
“I will have to pee,” she ground out.
“Of course,” he said in a tone that said the opposite.
Dili scowled at him.
“Is that a no?” Hadrian asked.
She crossed her arms over her chest.
Hadrian tilted his chin arrogantly. “You are a stubborn one.”
“I will make you leave,” she warned.
“Is it because you have some objection to using me as a means of transportation?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Then you’re scared you’ll like it even more than when I held you,” he said arrogantly.
“Absurd.” Dili scoffed, striving to sound as haughty as witchily possible.
“Then why are you blushing?”
She’d meant to smother the spark a third time, but the boost of energy betrayed her then. Heat spread from her cheeks and enveloped her. The glow still felt uncomfortable, but undeniable, and she couldn’t stop her heart from jumping into her throat. It was pounding so fast that she couldn’t get any words out in between the beats.
Dili almost squirmed as Hadrian appraised her tongue-tied silence with a triumphant grin.
“It would be my pleasure to save you the embarrassment of answering,” Hadrian said.
Before Dili could push her pulse back down into her chest where it belonged, the world blurred. Green and gold and blue and brown splashed across her eyes in a dizzying whirl. Her instincts blared in alarm facing the world at such speed. She wasn’t built for it like vampires were.
The witch closed her eyes, because that was all she really could do, and instead of waiting, she started feeling. Wind whipped at her face. Cold wrapped around her, icy against her right side.
Too icy. After feeling so steamed, though, she appreciated the chill if not the proximity.
Hadrian’s muscular arms cradled her to his body. His steady grip wrapped around her torso and under her knees, a source of comfort compared to the eerie silence from his chest. It must have been a terribly inefficient way to hold her, but he carried her as if she were feather-light. The rocking back and forth of his gait felt small considering how fast she knew they were moving. She could feel it intimately.
Pressed so close, she realized he smelled like… She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Consciously, she knew aroma was just a tool to a vampire, but subconsciously, his scent sank deep. He smelled like… soft sweaters on winter mornings, with a whistling kettle on the stove and the glimmer of frost on a windowpane.
And she quite liked it.
Next chapter on Friday, November 7.