Page 54 of Cursed By the Love Witch

I cup the back of his hand, my thumb grazing over his soft skin, savoring the feel of it for the last time. I gently lift it from my hip and slide it along the outside of my thigh. The hem of my dress rises as I drag his hand along my bare skin. His breathing turns ragged as his fingers brush the lacy strap of my thong high on my hip.

“Finish your wine and go upstairs,” I command with a grin. “I have another surprise I want to show you.”

Bael shivers before downing the rest of his wine in one swallow. I collect his empty glass, and he leans down, kissing me fiercely. His tongue seeks mine for one final pet before he pulls back.

“How did I get so lucky to find you?”

I smile at him as he turns, unbuttoning his black silk shirt. Once the stairs stop creaking and I hear him settle on the bed, I move quickly. Pulling the crumpled piece of parchment from my pocket, I tuck my pathetic excuse of an apology under his thoughtful gift.

The coins would provide me with a comfortable future where money was never a worry again. I glance up at the loft and thelove I’m losing forever. The idea of the apothecary and spending my life helping others find love with my eternally broken heart nearly makes me fall to my knees. Tears burn in my eyes, but I cannot let him hear me cry.

Quietly slipping off my heels, I walk back into the kitchen and collect my bag. The backdoor is just as silent as the first time I used it. I slip out into the garden. The scent of herbs and fresh flowers fills my lungs. The stars and moon glow overhead as the silence of the woods engulfs me. I take a deep breath, reaching for my magic and using it to transform into the only other creature I’ve ever been able to manage.

Once I am a magenta butterfly, my thin wings flap with all their might away from Bael and the life I could’ve had. I don’t stop until Axwyne is a spect in the distance and my new town comes into view.

The old apothecary needs a fresh coat of paint. Luckily, the previous tenants left behind most of their inventory, so I’m not having to stock it from scratch. It’s little more than a room with three rows of wooden shelves, a counter, and a small office in the back I’ll use for love readings.

I flutter up to the next level and transform back into my body once inside my small apartment. Again, it’s nothing special. My boxes still need to be unpacked. The walls are bare. The small kitchen is along one wall, and my unmade bed rests on the other. With some time, I can make this room into a home.

The task seems overwhelming. I go to the nearest box marked bedding and rip it open. Pulling out a pillow and my quilt, I toss them onto the bed. Unzipping my dress, I feel the weight of the past two weeks crashing down on me. Completely naked, I slide under my old blanket. Bael’s scent still clings to the fibers, and fresh tears spill down my cheeks.

The only way I’ll sleep tonight is if I exhaust myself. So I sob into the pillow, the moonlight streaming in from my brokenwindow. Bael may come looking for me. Only Prue and Mistress Saege know where I’ve gone off to. Surely, they won't betray my location if he is as angry as I suspect he will be.

I’m such a coward. I should’ve stayed to face him and holdfast in the face of his wrath. If only I could see him one final time and leave with some awful version of him, perhaps that would make my broken heart less painful. As it stands now, the rough shards of it tear at my skin until I’m bleeding.

Loneliness yawns open inside of me. It swallows me whole, and I succumb to my misery. All that I’ve lost flashes through my mind. The memories of Bael—his passion, his kindness, and his warmth—flood me. Each one cuts me a little deeper.

Maybe I don’t have any business opening up this apothecary and offering my love services. After all, I can’t be that good of a love witch, seeing how my own love potion broke my heart.

24

THE HIGH WARLOCK

She’s been down there far too long, his little witch.

Gods, was there ever anyone or anything as beautiful as her? As kind and compassionate and feisty? He’ll never stop being in awe of her. The ease with which she teases him and he teases her back. It contrasts sharply with the male he’s always known himself to be.

She brings a lightness to him—a softness reserved only for her.

They hadn’t made any plans for the future, but surely, she knew that after tonight, they would always be together. When he was finally buried inside of her, her fate would be sealed. Their lives would be bound together for eternity. Wherever she goes, he goes. Besides, opening an apothecary is no easy thing—especially all alone.

He’ll help her in whatever way she’ll allow. The need to take care of her is overwhelming.

Anticipation makes him restless. Minutes trickle by as he remains alone in his bed. What could she be doing down there? He had felt the lace of her panties—his fingers still smelt like her. It does not take her this long to shed her clothes and join him.Perhaps he is just too eager. Yet, as all remains still down below, something prickles his skin.

“Darcee?” he calls. Only silence greets him.

He jumps from the bed and crawls down the stairs to the main floor. She’s no longer there. Nor is she in the kitchen or out in the garden. Could something have happened to her? Had someone broken in and stolen her when he was merely a floor away? It seems unlikely, and yet?—

He’s walking back into the den when he spies it. A lone piece of parchment is tucked under the box of coins he’d given her. Her familiar handwriting spells his name. He snatches it. Dread curdles his stomach as he reads.

“Bael, I’m sure the antidote has worked by now, and you realize what I’ve done. I never meant to slip you that love potion at the equinox. It was a terrible mix-up—one I let go too far. I should’ve come clean that morning in your classroom, but I felt drawn to you in a way I never have before. I’ve come to care for you while knowing what I did. I deserve your disgust—your hatred—and I’m too much of a coward to come clean to you in person. Please find it in your heart to forgive me, but I understand if you cannot. Everything was real to me. I’m sorry. Darcee.”

A love potion? What is she talking about? The wine she gave him had been bitter, no doubt laced with whatever antidote she had given him. The note trembles in his grasp.

He feels no differently about her now than he always has. Is that what she thinks caused all of this? That he’s been under the effects of a love potion, and that’s why he sought her out?

When had she managed to slip him one on the equinox? Even if she had, it’s not like it would?—

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