Page 8 of Wayward Witch

"Such beautiful hands…" Azar murmured, his voice smooth and seductive as he watched my fingers glide over the books. "They deserve to hold only the most exquisite treasures."

"Sure, they're hideous," I retorted, hating how my curse forced me to say the opposite of what I meant. I tried to shut him down, but part of me wondered if I really needed to. Would there be anything wrong with a little flirting… or more with the Djinn?

"Hideous? If that is your idea of ugliness, then I must be truly repulsive," Azar teased, his laughter filling the air like music. It was hard not to smile at his charm, but it disappeared when I saw Lyptico from the corner of my eye as he watched us.

"I can't just let him wander around in here," Lyptico huffed, his glare flickering to me with renewed skepticism but a grudging acceptance. "Speak the opposite of your desires, Selene, and I will try to understand your needs," Lyptico said, his tone less hostile than before.

"I need... to not know about Djinn lore and my family history." My voice wavered slightly as I tried to state the opposite of what I truly wanted.

"So information on Djinn." Lyptico crossed his arms. "You've spent years working at this library. What makes you think you'll find something about your family if you haven't found it yet?"

"When toast winks, the butter blushes," I replied, grasping at the lifeline he offered. It didn't work in the slightest as I realized more nonsense rolled off my tongue. "I'm not interested in understanding my roots and where I come from."

"Winking toast and blushing butter… that's a new one, even for you." Lyptico murmured as he looked me over, but didn't make a move toward me. I didn't blame him since, if I were him, I'd be wary of Azar's presence after his little proclamation. Instead, he slowly nodded and started scanning the shelves, muttering to himself about obscure texts and bloodline histories.

As he searched, I focused my attention on old witch covens and abandoned towns. I'd never heard of Spells Hallow and despite the hooded figures with glowing symbols, it had looked abandoned in my dream. I didn't expect to find anything, but I had to try. One book caught my attention, and I snatched it off the shelf while Lyptico was examining a row of books a few feet away.

"Here," Lyptico said, pulling out a book with a faded cover and holding it to his side. Another book joined the first. "This should help with your... lack of interest."

I felt a mix of fear and anticipation as he set them down on the table, taking care not to touch me, lest he anger Azar.

"Thanks," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Azar stood close, his gaze sweeping over each of the old tomes, as if assessing their contents for any hidden dangers. It added to my sense of guarded excitement, knowing that he was watching out for me even here, in the depths of the library.

Lyptico eyed Azar for a long moment then sauntered off.

"Shall we?" I asked him, lifting a stack of ancient books into my arms.

"Of course, Selene," Azar replied, his voice low and warm against my ear. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, but I brushed it off and focused on the books in my arms.

Together, we made our way to a quiet study room tucked into a back corner of the library. My mind buzzed with possibilities as I set the books down on the wooden table, the dread and excitement churning inside my belly. Azar took a seat beside me.My heart swelled with appreciation, comforted by his loyalty and curious about the connection forming between us.

"Which one do you think?" I asked, looking over the pile of books.

"Only one way to find out," Azar said, his voice playful yet sincere. "Why don't you follow your instincts?"

"Alright," I said, scanning the faded covers before selecting one that seemed to call to me. As I opened it, my fingers trembled slightly, betraying my nerves.

The aged pages of the book felt delicate beneath my fingertips, their edges worn and softened by time. As I carefully flipped through the pages, cryptic symbols and ancient family trees danced before my eyes. My heart raced with anticipation, hoping to find a clear link to my own heritage among the countless lines of text.

"Anything promising yet?" Azar asked several minutes later, his voice soft and attentive as he leaned closer to me. His muscular arm brushed against mine, almost distracting me from what I was doing.

"All the things." My frustration mounted with each useless page I read. Despite my determination, it seemed as though my past remained stubbornly hidden.

Azar’s gaze bore into me with a knowing look, as if understanding that there was more going on to what I was saying, even though I couldn't tell him about the curse. It made sense. I said random nonsense and conflicting things all the time. If he wasn't bound to me with some you-must-make-your-first-wish-to-bind-us-together half-bond, he would haveprobably run for the hills by now. Or taken refuge in a bottle. Heh.

"You know," he said, "you could always use one of your wishes to discover what you're seeking."

I shrugged, but didn't respond. I couldn't risk one of the wishes. Knowing my curse, I would say a random wish instead of just saying the opposite of what I wanted.

"Whatever this is that makes you speak so strangely…" Azar murmured. "I'll figure it out."

Me too. I wanted more than anything to figure out my curse and reverse it.

I moved on to the next book, my attention immediately drawn to a section that described the nature of Djinn, their powers, and the dangers tied to their wishes. I lingered on a warning about Djinn magic: that a single poorly worded wish could backfire with unimaginable consequences.

"Is something wrong?" Azar asked, his voice tinged with concern as he noticed my furrowed brow.

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