Page 50 of Cursed By the Love Witch

Prue’s lips drop into a frown.

“I’ve never seen you like this, Dar. So sad.” She touches my shoulder gently. “Look, what I was going to say atthe Bog?—”

“I don’t want to hear it—not right now, Prue. Okay?” The words rush from my mouth. I gently shake off her touch. “I—I have to go.”

I don’t wait for her response and hurry down the hallway. The walls seem to be closing in on me. The painful ache in mychest yawns open, slicing at my soul with its claws. What’s the point of anything when I can’t have the one thing I truly desire? There will never be another who makes me feel like Bael does, and I’ve ruined it. This whole mess is my fault.

Bursting into Saege’s room, I get to work without giving myself a chance to reconsider making it. I remember the spell I used, plucking which ingredients will counteract them the best. I toss them all into a cauldron. Closing my eyes, I pull at my warm magic, allowing the golden light to flow from me and into the brew. With it, I set my intention to undo what I’ve done—infusing it into the concoction.

Once I open my eyes, I stare down at the magenta liquid. I stir it vigorously to make sure everything is incorporated. One vial of this and all the love Bael has shown me these past weeks will be done for. I’ll be alone again, but only this time will I have the memories of what could’ve been to contend with. They gather around the room, hiding like shadows and sneering at me.

A choked sob works its way up my throat. My tears drench the table below. Droplets fall into my potion, causing it to shimmer. I quickly turn the flame off and push it away.

“Darcee?” A concerned voice calls from above. “Is that you?”

Furiously, I wipe at my face.

“Yes, Mistress Saege. I’m down here.”

My voice sounds raw.

Saege appears in one of her long white silk robes. Her graying hair is pulled into a loose bun at the base of her neck, and a pencil protrudes through it. Gracefully, she floats over to me, her eyes rife with concern.

“My dear, whatever is the matter?”

I shake my head, trying my best to fake a convincing smile.

“Nothing, Mistress. It's just graduation blues. I’m going to miss this place—more than I thought.”

Saege nods, but I know my lie does not entirely convince her.

“You don’t have to leave at all. We’d be happy to have you join us as faculty here. Love magic has been missing from the curriculum for some time. We haven’t had as fine a love witch as you in decades.”

My heart lifts at her praise. In a perfect world, I take her up on the offer. I’d consider giving teaching a go recently. Love magic is so woefully underappreciated. Bael and I could work side by side, spending nights together in his cottage and passing each other in the hall—sneaking off for midday trysts while no one was watching.

It is a lovely dream that cannot be.

“Thank you, Mistress Saege, but I’ve already paid for my first month’s rent at the apothecary.”

“If you ever change your mind, the offer still stands.” Saege begins to turn before pausing. Her eyes are so intense I almost buckle under her stare. “Forgive me for prying, my dear. However, I wonder if some of your distress has to do with Professor Fangborne.”

My mouth goes dry, and I have to grip the side of the table to stay upright. I search for the words, not finding any of use. Saege waves a dismissive hand.

“You’re an adult, Darcee. Besides, the fraternization policy between students and professors is murky at best.”

I don’t want to lie to her, so I let my silence be all the confirmation she needs. Saege nods, a smile playing on her lips.

“That’s how these things always go, isn’t it? Opposites attract. As I'm sure you know, Bael is a good male.” Her eyes harden. “Unless he’s done something horrible to you that I must be made aware of.”

I shake my head.

“He’s the best male I’ve ever known.”

Saege’s smile deepens.

“What he did for me and my brother is a kindness most would not offer. Going in the veil like that takes a toll, but he knew how much I’d been suffering.”

All of this started because I believed him to be horrible—capable of nothing but cruelty. How wrong I had been. The true male Bael is will make the perfect partner for someone, and as much as I wish that person were me, it won’t be. Fresh tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I wipe them away.

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