Page 35 of Kissing Potions and Elves
My jaw tightens.Stuffy? Dull? Always scowling?
“Maybe he’s nicer when they’re alone,” the woman offers.
“I doubt it,” the man scoffs. “You know how High Elves are… they think they’re better than everyone.”
My irritation deflates instantly. They’re not wrong. My people do have a reputation and… unfortunately, it’s not entirely unfounded. I grimace, knowing I’ve been guilty of it myself more than once. But Vaelar’s blade, it stings hearing it said aloud.
Spending so much time with Isobel has made me realize just how harshly I’ve judged humans in the past.
“Lyrion?” Isobel’s voice draws me out of my brooding. She holds out an empty basket, smiling hopefully. “Could you get some more scones from the café, please? The regular ones,” she adds.
After I retrieve the fresh batch from the kitchen, we cut several of them up to distribute as samples. Once we’re done,I arrange the trays carefully around the stall, setting the fresh samples prominently in front.
Isobel steps out unexpectedly, a warm smile lighting her face as she grabs one of the freshly cut scones from the new batch. Before I can say anything, she practically shoves it into my mouth. “I saved a sample for you,” she announces brightly.
Surprised, I take a bite. Instantly, warmth bursts through me, sweetness flooding my senses in a dazzling wave. My vision sharpens; colors are suddenly brighter and more vivid. My lips curve involuntarily into a broad, uncontrollable smile.
Stars above, this festival is amazing!
“Earth and sky!” Tressa exclaims as she rushes toward us with another basket. “I gave you the wrong ones.” She passes me another batch. “Here’s the regular batch.”
“That means…” Isobel’s voice trails off as she turns toward me, eyes wide. “Lyrion, you ate one of the ecstasy scones.”
I laugh, the sound startling me with its own cheerful buoyancy. “I did?”
She nods urgently while Tressa’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “How are you feeling?” Isobel asks a bit cautiously.
Another helpless laugh escapes me. I feel so utterly, inexplicably awed by everything around me. “Amazing,” I assure her brightly. “Absolutely wonderful.”
And I truly do. Raising my arms, I spin in a slow circle as I take in the vibrant colors and sounds of the festival. Wonder fills every corner of my being—warm and delightful—sweeping away all my prior irritation.
Isobel touches my shoulder. “Are you alright?”
Her eyes are full of worry, but I don’t understand why. A grin spreads across my face. “I’ve never felt better.”
As I gaze down at her, I’m suddenly struck by how ethereal Isobel looks in the morning light. Gently, I lift a long tendril of her golden hair, fascinated by how shiny and silky it is. Staringat her in awe, I brush the tips of my fingers across the petal-soft skin of her cheek. “You’re practically glowing.”
I don’t know why I’ve tried so hard to deny it. She truly is the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen. She’s lovely, radiant, warm, and entirely captivating. I cup her face with both hands, staring deep into her luminous eyes. “Vaelar’s heart,” I murmur. “I just want to bask in your glorious presence, savoring this perfect, wondrous moment for all time.”
“Oh, stars,” she mutters. “Just stay close to me, alright?”
“Gladly,” I breathe, unable to keep the delighted smile off my face.
CHAPTER 18
ISOBEL
Another laugh escapes Lyrion as he gazes around him, eyes wide and sparkling as if he’s never seen colors before in his entire Elven life. “Look at the sky and the fluffy clouds, Isobel.” He gestures grandly. “It’s the most perfect day, isn’t it?”
Oh stars. I shouldn’t have given him that scone. I glance helplessly at Tressa, her lips twitching as if she’s desperately trying not to laugh.
Lyrion is definitely not himself, but stars help me, he’s so breathtakingly handsome when he smiles. It’s almost criminal that he doesn’t do it more often, but knowing Lyrion, he’d probably loathe being seen like this if he weren’t under the influence of magic.
He’s currently smiling and waving at passing villagers. Enthusiastically. This is bad.
I need to get him home. Now.
“How long is this going to last?” I ask Tressa. “And why is it affecting him so much? I don’t see anyone else acting this way after they eat your scones.”
