Page 39 of Enslaved By Magic

He looked around the room with an expression that was—not skeptical really, maybe it was doubt that any of his objects had an interesting history worth bothering to reveal. Then his face lit up. “I bet your bottle has some stories!” he said.

She blanched, could actually feel the blood leaving her face, and she gripped the counter tighter as she struggled with the word ‘No!’ that wanted to burst out of her mouth. Interesting history? Yes, the bottle certainly had that, but so much of it was hers and she didn’t want him to see everything. It would make her far too vulnerable.

“Maybe—Maybe not on your first try,” she said in a voice that even she could tell sounded off. “I mean, it’s incredibly old and you don’t want to be overwhelmed.”

He frowned, and then nodded. “You’re right. Let’s start off easy. Um—” He walked over and closed the refrigerator door, then pressed his hand flat to the front of it and closed his eyes. After a second, he snorted. “Well, it works but not exactly a thrilling adventure. Though, in case you were curious, a moving man dropped it on his toe and cursed at it for a good ten minutes.”

She laughed, tension going out of her as he made no move to get her bottle. “Thrilling. I bet the museum would be a fun afternoon with your new power though. Or an antique shop?” she offered.

He agreed, but that would be for another day. He seemed delighted with the power though, and walked around the house touching various items and exclaiming each time the flood of information filled his mind. She couldn’t help watching and grinning. He was so like a kid in a candy store.

She eventually interrupted his fun to remind him about dinner. “Let me know when you get bored with that and maybe we can order dinner.”

“Right, dinner. Let me grab my phone and we’ll see what’s around,” he said as he dashed off to find it.

She was still getting used to the idea that those small devices were so essential to modern life, and rarely used hers, but she had to admit he did find his useful. A second later he was back with a list of choices and in no time they’d ordered. It wasn’t, in her opinion, as good as home-cooked food, but it was certainly a lot less work and she didn’t mind having a night off now and then even though she enjoyed cooking for him.

It wasn’t modern to take pride in cooking for a man. She was learning that men and women had more equality now than she’d ever seen in the past and that caring for a home was no longer considered the sole job of a woman. Luke seemed bothered, guilty maybe, about all the cooking and cleaning she did, but she was, and would probably always remain, an old-fashioned girl in some respects.

With money no longer being an issue, he’d even suggested hiring people to cook and clean, but she’d talked him out of it. It hadn’t been difficult once she’d reminded him that they had certain secrets to keep. A stranger catching her entering or leaving her bottle would definitely be shocked.

But really, she just didn’t want anyone else around for her own selfish reasons. She wanted to be the one who cooked and cleaned for him. While she, more than anyone, could appreciate freedom and equality, there was joy and peace to be found in the simple chores.

At times when she cooked for him, she almost lost herself in the fantasy that they were married. Just two normal people living their lives together, and she liked that. She wanted it to be real, and it made her less patient for him to make the final wish. She needed to be free before it was too late. Before she settled for being his slave forever without ever having a chance to make her own choices or see what was out there.

It was only a few weeks later, while he was still getting used to the power from his second wish, that she suggested he should start considering what his third wish would be. The second one should have sated her for a while, but it had done the opposite. There was an urgency inside of her that was starting to build until she was practically crawling the walls with a need to have it over with. Weeks went by with no sign that he was ready to make his final wish, and when she pressed him, he only said he was still thinking about it. Or he would change the subject.

She felt almost guilty about the way she kept pushing and tried to rein herself in, but she’d find the question bubbling up into her mouth at unexpected moments.

“Decided on your last wish yet?” became a mantra in her head, and for every time she managed to swallow the words back down unspoken, there was another time when they got out. Otherwise, things between them were perfect. It was just that one thing—but that one thing was everything. Still, she tried to push it out of her head and focus on the relationship that was growing between them.

The submissive stuff—at first it had made her nervous and she’d had some major inner battles to overcome before she could relax into it, but once she stopped fighting her body’s natural reactions to the games they played, she really started to enjoy it. She was never going to be a natural subservient woman, not with her background, but Luke didn’t seem to want that from her anyway.

He said he liked her fire. He liked the way she knew her own mind and he was constantly encouraging her to make decisions. It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to that independence because she’d always, for as long as she could remember, done her best to get around the bottle’s restrictions and make her own choices out of stubbornness. It was just that she kept waiting for the slaps and shouting to rain down on her every time she did something on her own initiative, but she was learning, and he was careful with her.

Their ‘punishments’ were rarely real things. It was more playacting and fun now that she’d learned not to test him about the consent issue. If he said no, he meant it, and if she did something to him without his consent, then she got spanked—and not in a fun way. It seemed fair.

She’d gotten closer to his Aunt Sarah after several visits, and she’d taken a real liking to the woman. There seemed to be nothing but love in his aunt, and the battered part of Amari’s soul sucked up the no-strings-attached affection like a sponge. She wasn’t sure if Luke had gotten around to telling Sarah about Amari’s history or if only Esra knew, but they treated her like she was just a normal girl. Actually, they treated her like she was family, and she was starting to get used to it.

Once the house was unpacked and furnished, his aunt and uncle were the first guests to be invited. Amari spent the day cooking an assortment of dishes she hoped would be pleasing, and it felt so nice to be in the role of hostess. It was a wonderful night full of laughter and fun, and it wasn’t until they were getting ready to leave and Luke was helping Sarah on with her coat, that Esra pulled her aside and spoke to her in a low voice.

“He loves you.”

Amari flushed. “I love him too,” she said as she started to smile.

Esra looked at her for a minute with an expression she couldn’t read. “Luke’s like a son to me, and I can tell when he’s struggling. He knows the right thing to do is to make that last wish and let you go—but he’s not going to do it without a push. And you can’t have a relationship that’s based on one partner being trapped, so I’m telling you. For both your sakes, give him the push.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come, and then Esra and Sarah were going out the door and Amari was left standing there with an odd half-smile still curving her lips. There was a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. It hurt like she’d been punched, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. To hide her emotional upheaval, she busied herself with cleaning up the kitchen.

Stacking the dirty dishes in the sink while blinking back tears, she wiped down the counters as she tried to hide her shaking hands. What had Esra meant by that? Was it… did he disapprove of the relationship? Was it his way of saying he wanted Luke to free Amari so she could leave? Or—was it just what he’d said, and he wanted them to be on equal footing so the relationship would work.

“I think they were really impressed by the house, though Aunt Sarah kept saying it was too big for us. Imagine if we’d picked one of those monstrosities the real estate agent tried to push us into, huh?” Luke said as he came into the kitchen behind her. He chuckled as he crossed the floor and pressed against her back, wrapping his arms around her waist, and squeezing her. “Did you have fun?”

She cleared her throat, working hard to keep her tone neutral. “Oh yes, lots of fun. We should invite them again soon. Or—or you should, I mean.” She shouldn’t have added the last part; it instantly cued him in that something was wrong, but she needed to stop taking for granted that this was her future.

“You not planning on being here?” he asked, after a short pause. Her body stiffened in his arms and he reluctantly released her, turning her to look at him. “Amari? What’s wrong?” There was so much concern in his voice that she had to fight to keep the tears back.

“N-no, nothing’s wrong. I just mean… you’ll be making your last wish soon. So.” She stopped there, leaving it open, but after a minute of silence passed, she couldn’t help adding. “Right?”

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