Page 55 of Cursed By the Love Witch

He doesn’t have time to dwell on her note. He needs to find her. Now.

Dropping the parchment, he seamlessly transitions into a raven and flies quickly toward her dorm room. The window is shut and locked, but he can see all he needs to from the ledge. Her room is bare, and her bed is empty. He’s a fool for not asking where her dream apothecary was—he’d thought she'd tell him after night.

It matters little. He’ll find her. By any means necessary, his little witch will be his. And once he has her, there will be no doubt left in her mind just how much she means to him.

25

DARCEE

“And you haven’t heard anything from him?” Prue asks.

She sits at the counter of my apothecary. Zander looks through a few of the shelves at the back, giving us space to chat. The shop is empty—just like it was yesterday. I need to find a better way of getting the word out that I’m open. I’ll have to hire someone to add to the sign out front that love readings are now on offer.

I shake my head as I go back to filling small jars with dried rose petals.

“It’s been two days. If he wanted to find me, he would’ve by now. That tells me all I need to know—he took the antidote, remember he hated me, and now I’ll never see him again.”

Prue shakes her head. Glancing to make sure Zander is out of earshot, she still drops her voice to a whisper.

“I know you didn’t want me to tell you this before, but I’m telling you now.”

“Even if I don’t want to hear it?” I raise a brow.

Prue nods primly. I let out a heavy sigh, giving her my full attention.

“The High Warlock’s aura never changed. During his lessons, it would always remain black—foreboding and not of this world. And then, for the briefest moments when he’d look at or speak to you, it would blaze pink. I didn’t think much of it—only that maybe it was your natural power brushing up against him. Now, I wonder if there was more to it than that.”

“When did you first notice it?”

“At the beginning of the semester. Weeks before the equinox party.”

My heart begins to race. One final, traitorous thread of hope worms its way into my heart, trying to put back together the broken pieces.

“Well, this is all the proof you need to see it wasn’t the case. He only felt what he did because of my potion.”

Prue’s lips twist, but thankfully, she drops it. I’m hoping we never have to speak of him again—it’s too painful. The memories of our time together replace my nightmares. These past two nights, I’ve been waking up aching. My heart calls out to him but receives no answer.

“Prue, we should go if we’re gonna make dinner,” Zander says, coming to my friend's side.

Their love is palpable as she grins up at him. Rising from the stool, she grips my hand. We plan to catch up later this week, and I watch the two of them slip out my door and into the setting sun. I close in a few hours, and I’m not holding my breath for any new customers.

No matter. There’s plenty of cataloging to keep me busy. Going from Axwyne, where people were always around, to living alone is quite the adjustment. The silence seems to stretch, and my mind can’t focus enough to read a book in the evenings.

I pull out a few jars of dried bay leaves and orange peels. Leaving the desk, I search along the shelves, and find a couple of empty jars and my logbook. Bells chime at the front door, anda thrill goes through me. I smooth my hands on my smock and walk back through the shelves to greet my first customer.

“Welcome to Darcee’s Apothecary of Love! Is there something I can help you with?—”

The words die on my tongue as I round the corner and take in the figure standing at my door. Has he gotten more handsome? It seems impossible, but yet I can’t deny it. His gray skin glows. His strong jaw is clenched. There are dark shadows under his violet eyes. Black satin covers him from head to toe.

Bael stares at me—his face unreadable.

I brace myself for his fury. He’s only come here to rage against me—I know it. Even still, my heart lifts at the sight of him. I’ve missed him terribly. The ache in my chest starts anew. His spicy scent invades my lungs.

He takes a small step forward.

“There is a problem I was hoping you could help me with.”

The slight tremble in his voice causes my throat to tighten. His eyes scan the shelves and the barren walls around me. This space suddenly feels very small, as if he’s sucked all the air out of it.

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