Page 96 of Kissing Potions and Elves
“Goodnight, Lyrion.”
I force myself to step back, and reluctantly head to my room, closing the door behind me. After a quick bath, I slip into soft knit pants and lie down on my bed. Sighing heavily, I stare up at the ceiling, my mind consumed with thoughts of my beloved—my fated one.
A soft knock at the door interrupts my musing, and I call out, “Enter.”
The door creaks open slowly, and Isobel steps inside, her delicate figure bathed in silver moonlight. She’s nothing short of breathtaking in her pale blue, silken sleep gown, the thin straps barely holding it in place over her graceful shoulders, the hem skimming mid-thigh.
She takes a shy step toward me.
“Is everything alright?”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, not quite meeting my eyes. “I… wanted to sleep in your arms tonight. If that’s alright.”
My heart stutters as longing thrums in my veins. “I would like that too,” I murmur, holding my hand out to her.
She slips her palm into mine, and I draw her into the bed beside me. She nestles close, her body fitting perfectly against my own. I angle my hips away, trying to hide the effect her nearness has on my body, not wanting to overwhelm her.
“This is nice,” she whispers, resting her head on my shoulder and her hand over my heart.
It is. “I missed you.” The words leave my mouth unfiltered. “Terribly.”
“Brakkus saw you leave with Rhystan and… Elyssia. I thought you weren’t coming back.”
Shame fills me anew. I should have told her the truth from the start. “I had to return to Rivenyl. To formally break my betrothal.”
I clench my jaw. “Shortly after we returned from the ball, I sent a raven, informing Elyssia of my intent to dissolve our arrangement. But there were still… formalities I needed to address to ensure it did not cause her any scandal.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I was foolish. I told myself it wouldn’t matter, but the truth is, at first I worried my feelings for you were only because of the potion. But at the ball, I knew”—I cup her chin gently—“what I felt for you was far beyond the reach of any magic.”
“Why not tell me then?”
“Because by that point, I feared you’d be angry that I hadn’t confessed my betrothal sooner.” I sigh heavily. “I should have been honest, but I was terrified of losing you. And in the end… I lost you anyway when you found out the truth.”
“I thought you were ashamed of me,” she whispers, and my heart aches that she would ever think this.
“Never.” I meet her gaze evenly. “You are everything good in this world. I was drawn to you from the beginning. Your kindness… your light. I fought it, at first, and then with the potion, the pull I felt toward you was so strong, and I didn’t understand why.” I frown. “The magic was potent, but it couldn’t explain why I loved your smile, and your laugh. Why you consumed my thoughts night and day.”
I stare deep into her honey-brown eyes. “I fell in love with you before I even knew the truth.”
“What truth?”
“You are my fated one, Isobel.” I take her hand in mine, and entwine our fingers. “TheHeartshadespell I had placed after my engagement to Elyssia—to block me from recognizing my true mate—shattered when I ended the betrothal. And when our eyes met tonight on the stage, I felt it. I knew you were mine by fate.”
A faint smile curves my lips. “Even with the spell in place, my heart recognized yours. I wanted you, and only you, long before I knew the truth of our bond. No magic, no potion, could ever create what I feel for you, Isobel.”
Her eyes gloss over with tears, and I watch as the first one escapes her lashes and rolls down her cheek. Cupping her face, I brush it away with my thumb. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just so happy,” her voice wavers. “Part of me worries that this is a dream. That if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up and find that none of it is real.”
“This is real,” I murmur. “You are mine and I am yours. Always.”
She reaches up and traces her fingers across my jaw and over my lips. “Kiss me, Lyrion,” she whispers.
Leaning in, I capture her mouth in a tender kiss. She parts her lips and my tongue finds hers, curling around it as she trailsher hands over my chest and abdomen, exploring me with her touch.
“Isobel,” I groan, pulling back reluctantly. “We must stop. If we don’t, I’ll be tempted to claim you before we are officially bound.”
