Page 24 of Cursed By the Love Witch

Their fragrance perfumes my tiny dorm room. The plants begin to sprawl out into a magnificent display. Tears burn my eyes as I touch the soft petals. They are my favorite flowers. How could he possibly have known that? It must’ve been a lucky guess.

Lifting the blooms from the crystal, I deposit them into a large glass vase and fill it with new moon water; the petals glimmer and swell. I stare at them as warmth spreads throughout my body.

My peaceful morning is interrupted by a sharp knock at my door. Hastily grabbing a robe, I throw it on and open the door. I’m expecting to find someone—secretly hoping that it’s Bael. However, when my eyes are greeted by nothing but an empty hallway, I’m immediately confused. That is, until the mouthwatering scent of chocolate hits me.

Glancing down, I’d recognize the familiar glossy black box from the local bakery anywhere. Taking it back into my room, I settle it atop my desk and pluck the note from the top.

Something sweetis written in Bael’s script.

Taking off the top, a fresh wave of butter, sugar, and chocolate perfection invades my lungs. The glossy, golden brown tops of the pastries sparkle up at me. Licking my lips, I pick one up and bite into it. The crunch gives way to a buttery, soft perfection, and sweet chocolate coats my tongue.

I moan at the taste. They’re still warm.

Collecting his second note, I put it in the box with the other one and secure the lid. I don’t need anyone discovering these while I’m out. Taking another bite of the pastry, I stare out at the castle’s grounds through my window.I’m in danger, I think.

The notion sends a delicious thrill through me, but I can’t bring myself to care.

That afternoon,I find myself in Mistress Saege’s room earlier than usual.

Due to my new tutoring lessons, I switched my hour with Saege to my free period before necromancy. She did not question the change. Merely gave me a pile of grimoires she needed my help sorting through and cataloging. After I finished, I began working on my grimoire and recording the sleeping potion I made.

While it was administered to the wrong person, it worked remarkably. It could be helpful to me in the future. I dip my pen in the ink pot and scroll on the worn piece of parchment. Off to the side, Mistress Saege is behind her desk with a few vials of brightly colored liquid floating around her. Her lace bell sleeves drag along the surface of her desk as she waves her wand delicately.

“How was your weekend, my dear?” she asks casually.

Oh, you know, I just have a centuries-old necromancy professor sending me gifts because he believes himself in love with me. I accidentally slipped him a love potion that will no doubt lead to my expulsion. How was yours?

Instead of saying all of that, I give a noncommittal shrug.

“Quiet, mainly. Gave me time to make more rose water.”

Mistress Saege nods, but her eyes have a conspiratorial glimmer to them.

“Marius was asking about you on Friday,” she says casually.

I sketch a brow. “Who’s playing love witch now?”

The wrinkles around her eyes deepen as she grins.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.”

Shaking my head, I let out a soft chuckle.

“Marius doesn’t want me. He thinks he does because I’m the only woman at this school who rejected him.” I gently close my grimoire. “I decided I was bored of him first, and he can’t stand it.”

“But you liked him?” she pries.

Mistress Saege has always felt like the big sister I never had. I enjoy our open dialogue. I’ve confided in her more times than I can count, and each time, her advice has been—well—sage.

“For a time,” I say softly. “Though?—”

A large crash sends me nearly flying out of my seat. The vials Saege was levitating fell to her desk but luckily remained whole. I whip my head to the side, and my breath is stolen.

Bael is here. How had I not heard him come in? His hair gleams in the light. Violet eyes meet mine, and their intensity causes my blood to heat. Full gray lips are set in their usual straight line, but there is something sensual about them now. His black cape spills behind him.

A pile of broken glass rests at his feet—one of Saege’s unused large spell jars.

“My apologies,” he says, voice low. It feels like fingers gliding over my skin. “I bumped into it.”

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