Page 42 of Cursed By the Love Witch

“I’ll leave the window open.”

18

DARCEE

My heavy pack only adds to my uncomfortability.

The evening sun is low, casting heavy shadows on me and all the other necromancy students gathered in the courtyard. The weekend has come, and it is time to venture intothe Bog. Prue stands beside me, her pack laden with various supplies to gather what we’re looking for.

Outside, I note for the first time how small our class is. Amongst the whispering students is Bael, a piece of parchment in hand, as he checks us each off for attendance. His eyes dance over me, a secretive smile on his lips, before he moves on to check the next student.

We’ve spent every night together this past week. He comes to me as a raven, flying in after I’m already in bed and wrapping me in his arms. The nightmares are gone when he is with me—sleep is either dreamless or of him.

We keep things tame in the mornings, cuddling close in the early dawn hours. That is where we share stories of ourselves. Bael tells me of his loving childhood—of growing up different but always the center of his parents’ world. I keep my past vagueenough, and he doesn’t pry. I tell him stories of Prue and all the happy couples I’ve brought together. He praises my skill.

When it is time to get up, he leaves me with a chaste kiss. One I feel until I see him later for our tutoring session. Prue hasn’t questioned me about them or her opinions of my very pink aura. I know she has questions for me, and I can’t avoid them forever.

Bael's and I’s connection has only grown stronger. The potion has shown no signs of lessening. I expect him to wake up alarmed each night in my bed, demanding to know what he’s doing in there. Or for him to grow irritated at me during tutoring and grace me with a disdainful glower. Neither happens.

In fact, after a week of lessons, I retook my first and second exams and received a passing grade. We will finish the last one before the final grades are submitted. No matter how I perform on my final exam, I'll graduate on time if all goes well with this last test.

Bael has been pleased with my improvements. If our nights and mornings together are chaste, the tutoring sessions are where we indulge. He is steadfast in his promise to keep things professional while teaching me. Yet, after both tests, he rewarded me with his mouth on my aching flesh. I’ve lost count of the times he’s made me come over the past week.

I long to feel his cock buried inside of me—for our connection to grow more profound—but then I remember why I can’t let it.

We’ve shared so much with each other. He told me of his travels before becoming a professor. I’ve told him of my desire to become a professional love witch and open my own shop. Each day that passes, I sink deeper into him.

I’ll miss him terribly when this is over. I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep peacefully without his arms around me.

Bael clears his throat, and everyone’s attention snaps towards him.

“Students, for your final exam, you will need to travel intothe Bog.”

I try not to physically recoil at the idea. I hatethe Bog. The smell, the nightmarish creatures who call it home, the overgrown trees, and the swampy grounds that will leave my bare legs caked in mud. It will be a trek to get there, and this pack is already causing my back to ache.

Bael adjusts the small bag on his shoulder, looking completely unruffled and handsome.

“It is there you will find theevernight mushroom. Its properties will be needed to complete your reanimation brews next week.”

Before, the thought of tampering with a corpse made my stomach roll. Now, I’ve come to understand the beauty in such things. There is balance in all magic, and while necromancy and I will always be the opposite, I have a newfound appreciation for it, thanks to Bael.

“It is up to you to locate and retrieve the fungus properly. We will camp on my property, where my wards protect you. Theevernight mushroomwill glow at dusk and only be visible for a few hours. Work fast to retrieve it, and don’t lose your way inthe Bog.”

Turning from the group, Bael leads them forward. A few eager students race towards the front, engaging Bael in animated conversation. He nods thoughtfully, offering up one-word responses. I can’t help but laugh.

My high ponytail does nothing to help the sweat on my brow. I had to purchase new clothes just for this hike. None came in pink, so I’m dressed in olive green shorts and a fitted white top that’s supposed to be breathable. My feet are laced into sturdy brown boots I will never wear again.

Slowing my pace, I linger at the back of the group. As if he senses me drifting away, Bael glances back to ensure I am okay.I give him a slight nod and resume walking forward. My heart squeezes in my chest. To have this secret affection between us is a thrill—if only it were real.

Bael constantly talks about his excitement for graduation. He can’t wait for us to stop sneaking around and for me to finally be his. This will be our last week together, and while part of me wants to savor these final moments, it may be time to start pulling back, even if the thought abhors me.

Next week, I’ll make the antidote and give it enough time to charge before graduation. I’ll find a way to slip it to him after the ceremony.

The terrain around us darkens as we enter theWicked Woods. Gnarled branches interlock overhead. Ancient roots burst through the ground like fingers, snagging at our ankles. I nearly lose my footing several times but manage to stay upright. My eyes are trained on Bael. His tall frame parts through the thick thatch of trees until we are on a smoother path.

His graceful gait is entrancing. I watch his large hands come up and hold up a branch for the student behind him to pass under. I know just what those hands feel like on my skin. How tender they can be as they hold me while I sleep. Not to mention the intense pleasure they can bring when slipping inside?—

“Your aura is so pink I can hardly see you,” Prue whispers at my side.

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