Page 45 of Cursed By the Love Witch

I don’t meet his gaze.

“Nothing. Just eager to find this mushroom and get the fuck out of here.”

His finger lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“I know when you’re lying to me, Darcee.” He takes a step closer, our bodies brushing. The air turns heavy. “My backdoor will be unlocked this evening if you can escape the others.”

My mind is all over the place. The unfairness of the situation spears its claws into my heart. I want him so badly, yet the only way to keep him is to give him the antidote that will make him hate me. The weight of the situation bears down on me, and my first instinct is to lash out.

“Is that all I mean to you?” I snarl. “A dirty little secret—no more than a toy you can play with and then hide back on the shelf.”

Bael rears back at my anger. His fingers tighten on my chin.

“Firstly,” he says, voice deepening. “The secrecy was your idea. I’d happily drag you into the middle of the clearing and fuck you in front of the whole class. I don’t care who knows about us—I want everyone to know you are mine.”

Madness dances in his gaze. I’ve glimpsed the primal part of him he alluded to in his office. Excitement dances through my blood and causes a dull ache between my thighs.

“I understand you want to wait until I am no longer your professor. But I won’t have you thinking for even a moment, you mean so little to me. You are everything—I feel honored to have found you. Every moment with you is a gift I’ll treasure for the rest of my life.”

“Bael,” I whisper. His candor steals my breath.

His body drifts closer to mine, his hand splaying along my back.

“I’ve wanted you for so long. Ever since?—”

A twig snaps a few paces away, and we jump apart. Three students hurry past with their jars filled with mushrooms. They give us a passing hello before their footsteps get swallowed up by the woods.

Bael turns back towards me, but I take another step back.

“I’m going to collect the fungus and get out of here before it gets too dark. We’ll talk later.”

Bael nods, his lips grazing my forehead before he slips away. The shadows of the woods swallow him up. The sun is quickly fading, and by the time I hear the rushing of water, it’s nearly completely set. My boots are caked in mood as I stomp to the end of the rushing stream. It smells putrid, like all the fish in it have suddenly died. The stench is nearly unbearable. Luckily, the silver glowing bodies of theevernight mushroomsare unmistakable.

Setting down my jar and opening my pack, I retrieve a small knife and tweezers and harvest the fungus. As I work, my thoughts drift back to Bael as they always seem to do these days. Every time we are together, his desire is palpable. It’s hard to believe a potion—even created by a phenomenal love witch like myself—would craft such a deep connection. He alluded to wanting me for a long time, but that doesn’t make sense. Love potions don’t create false memories.

The more I give in to these heady moments with him, the more I risk the state of my heart once this is over. If there’s one thing my family taught me, it is that those we love always hurt us the worst. It’s unfair to put my past trauma on Bael—even more unjust that this relationship is one-sided, thanks to my irrationaldecision-making. I should be guarding my heart, but I’ve given it away freely to the one person who will undoubtedly break it.

I finish securing the top of my jar, which is nearly overflowing with mushrooms when something catches my eye. Beyond the misty edge of the stream, something shimmers along the dark water’s surface. An iridescent glow ripples from below. The sight transfixes me, and my body leans closer of its own accord.

That’s when it strikes.

Oily tentacles shoot out from the surface of the water. I scramble back, but not quick enough. Slimy suckers wrap tightly around my calf and upper arm. Fire burns my skin as the monster secretes some sort of venom. A scream tears from my lungs as it pulls me towards the water. I’m flipped onto my stomach, mud splattering my face. I dig my free hand into the ground to try and save myself, but the mud is too slippery.

All I can do is scream and thrash as the creature drags me towards my watery death.

19

THE HIGH WARLOCK

Her scream rips through the forest and pierces his heart.

Why was he not watching closer? He would’ve sensed the beast's presence long before it could strike if he had. He had wanted to give her some space to think after she lashed out, but now he sees that was a mistake. Racing through the forest, he watches in horror astheKraken of the Bogpulls her towards the murky water.

Her nails embed themselves into the ground, but the beast is too strong. Its tentacles encase her arm and leg, pulling them at odd angles. There is venom in the suckers, no doubt increasing her pain. Rage, unbridled and all-consuming, boils in his blood. The primal part of him, which he always keeps tucked away, rears its head.

Instincts drive him to protect her. The creature pulls her into the water, the lower half of her body already submerged. He races towards the water, his hand extended. Magic builds in his palm as he blasts the creature with purple fire.The Krakenrecoils, tightening his grip on Darcee. Bael blasts it with his fire again, and the beast lets out a broken screech.

His tentacles release her onto the stream's banks as it slips below the surface. Bael charges towards her, pulling her shaking body into his arms. Her leg and arms are both bleeding. Red blood mixes with the green goo of the beast’s venom. Darcee’s pink lips are pale, and her teeth chatter.

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