Page 8 of Cursed By the Love Witch

Glancing around, my eyes meet a few pairs of third-years who appraise me with lavish grins from head to toe. I can’t help but laugh. My future love doesn’t exist at Axwyne. I’m pretty confident of it and have given up finding him here. Who would know better than me, after all?

Still, I return their waves and smiles as I cross the grass. I shouldn’t be surprised; I’ve always been drawn to an older man. Someone established, powerful. Someone who can?—

The breath stills in my lungs as my eyes connect with a familiar violet pair. My heart pounds as I take in the High Warlock, somehow looking miserable amongst so much excitement. His dark hair is glossy in the moonlight, and his gray skin is luminous against the black cape he wears.

I try not to let his gaze unsettle me, but the rate with which I find his eyes on me is growing alarmingly frequent.

He’s located on the outskirts of the crowd, with Mistress Romina Braybooke talking quite animatedly at him. The High Warlock hardly seems to notice, but at least he’s dropped his gaze from me. I take in the older witch. Her hair is slicked back in a severe bun, and her lips are painted a dark red. They’d make a good couple with their shared morose nature. I once had the displeasure of finding myself in her hexes course for a semester, and I passed by the skin of my teeth.

Mistress Romina shared the High Warlock’s affinity for singling me out and calling me everything but a dimwitted girl.

The older witch leans closer to his side, and I barely suppress my laugh as the High Warlock steps back. Romina barely looks ruffled as she presses on with whatever tale she’s recounting. My eyes fall to the barely touched glass of sparkling red wine in the warlock’s grasp. His sizable gray hand practically engulfs the whole thing.

The deep color of his wine will nicely camouflage the sleeping potion, and its pungent taste should also be well hidden by it. Now, all that’s left is to figure out how to slip it into his glass without him or Romina noticing.

Glancing around the students near me, my eyes land on a familiar blonde head.

I unhook the potion from my waist, uncork it, and hold it snuggly in my palm. I only get one shot at this. Using my other hand, I wave toward Marius, who walks over to me with his familiar swagger. His golden eyes are simmering with desire, clearly aided by the full goblet of sparkling wine in his palm.

His pretty face was the first thing I noticed about him when I arrived at Axwyne. We had a fling for a few months as first-years that eventually fizzled off when I realized Marius would never be able to give me the love I truly desired. We’ve had a few trysts here and there over the years, but not for a long time, despite how many ravens he sends me in the early morning hours.

The scent of lavender and chamomile hit me as he saunters over.

“Darcee,” he purrs.

“Marius,” I return with a devious smile. “I need your help with something.”

“Really?” he asks.

“But you can’t tell anyone.” I flutter my lashes and bite my lip.

His smile deepens, and I’m pleased my rudimentary flirting is paying off so well.

“If you wanted to start hooking up again, all you had to do was ask. I’ve been waiting for you to reconsider.”

“Really?” I sigh, hooking my arm through his. “I’m sorry to say that isn’t what I had in mind.”

Marius’s golden brows lower as I lead him from the crowd towards where the High Warlock looms. Luckily, it seems he and Romina have drifted a bit closer, which will make what I’m about to do more plausible.

“What have you been up to, Pink?”

“Ugh, I hate that nickname.” I wrinkle my nose. “But the usual, if you must know. This and that. Decadence and depravity.”

“You were always a wild one. No man has yet to tame you.”

It isn’t a question, but I treat it like one. We’re almost there, and I need to keep him distracted.

“Why would I want a keeper?”

“As I recall, you always preferred a more dominating partner.”

“Only in certain situations.”

Marius laughs as we continue to walk. We are almost to them, and I feel the High Warlock’s gaze upon me like a physical touch. Nerves threaten, but I cannot lose my edge now. This is my only chance, and I have to make it count. Sweat pools along my neck, but I stay focused.

When we are an arm’s length away, Marius leans to whisper in my ear.

“You know I always regretted?—”

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