Page 16

ROSALANA

I watched Drake bow his head as the werewolf female slipped back into the palace. Never in my life had I seen him so broken.

And that terrified me.

I slowly approached him and slid my hand into his. “Are you okay, my love?” I offered a comforting smile. Yet, Drake merely lifted his head and cast a bleak gaze on me. I flinched.

He’ll never belong to you…never love you, an insidious voice whispered inside my head. She has her claws hooked in him. He now belongs to that werewolf!

My body began to tremble as realization sent ice shards freezing over my heart.

Drake removed his hand from my hold. “I’ll be okay, Rosalana,” he said, his voice a broken whisper—words hollowed with grief.

“I promise. I’ll take care of you.” With that, he trudged down the cobblestone path, his shoulders hunched forward like the weight of the world bore down on him .

He’s like a shell of his former self. I thought as I walked into the palace heading to my bedroom. Passing underneath the stairs, I headed to the servant's wing, as I was part of the kitchen staff.

It can’t end this way. I won’t let it!

I passed through the kitchen and through a door at the back of the room. A narrow corridor opened up before me, and I stalked down the length of it, bypassing the other doors till I arrived at mine. I stepped into my room, shutting the door behind me.

A simple twin-sized bed with brass headboard rails stood tucked to the far side of the room. A small desk with a sodden chair and a dresser were the only two furniture pieces besides the bed. A small window hung over the bed, revealing the full moon bathing the valley in silver.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I began to pace the length of my small room.

How can I stop this? How can I turn back the tide and get Drake to solely notice me again?

I gnawed on my lower lip as I wracked my brain for every possible solution.

The words I heard back at the peace summit rang in my mind.

Of how Drake announced that he knew Ember was his fated mate when he’d first sighted her.

It was nigh impossible to break such a bond—even if it wasn’t consummated yet!

Hot tears welled up in my eyes. I reached for the first thing within reach, which ended up being a flower vase.

With a screech, I flung the vase across the room.

It hit the wall and shattered into a myriad of pieces.

The shards rained down to the floor, water quickly running down the wall—the daisies tossed on the hardwood below. My chest heaved with labored breaths .

Wait…consummated…

My brain began to work at a whirlwind pace as I sifted through my memories.

I blinked rapidly. If I recall, there was a rumor of a fae female who sought to have a mated male to herself.

She had forced the bond to become severed with the female mate and had forged a bond with the male she yearned for.

The female had been discovered and punished for it, of course—but the point was the spell worked.

Yes!

A grin spread across my cheeks. Then, it promptly fell. I couldn’t remember the exact name of the spell.

Dammit.

My body shook as sobs threatened to consume me.

Then a thought flashed to mind. The library!

There had to be information about the spell there in the potions section.

I left my bedroom and headed for the library, keeping my footsteps unhurried so as not to draw attention.

Yet, every guard and servant that walked past sent the fine hairs at my nape to prickling.

It felt as if all eyes were locked on me—judging my every move.

Leaving the servant’s wing, I passed the kitchen and hooked a right down another corridor—this one far more spacious than the last. As I headed to the library, a servant stepped out of one of the guest chambers, her hands full of towels.

She bumped into me, and the towels fell in a heap on the floor.

“Watch where you’re going!” I growled.

The brunette fae went pale. “I-I’m sorry, Rosalana. I didn’t see yo?—”

“Yeah, you are sorry, bitch.” I lifted my nose, giving the servant an imperious glare. “Now, pick these towels up. ”

The female fae’s lower lip trembled as her eyes moistened with tears. I didn’t give a damn; my mind was too focused on getting to the library. And the little wench had delayed me enough as it was.

Kicking the towels out of my way, I stomped off.

Finding the large double doors that led to the grand library, I swept inside on all sides of me spanned bookcases.

They towered overhead, at least three stories up.

The library opened before me like a labyrinth, with books as far as the eye could see.

In the middle of the library rose a spiraling stairwell that emptied onto suspended walkways bordering the bookcases.

I swallowed thickly. Dread constricted my heart at the thought of combing through all these books for the right spell.

Inhaling a shaky breath, I walked down each aisle till I found the section titled ‘potions and incantations’ Four broad bookcases comprised the section; the books that perched on the shelves had fat spines and a myriad of pages.

I eyed the library rolling ladder to my left and sighed.

Well, I guess I better get to it…

Three hours had passed by at a crawl before my weary eyes fell on one book entitled ‘Potions of the Heart.’ My ears perked up.

That looks promising…

Reaching up, I plucked the large book from the shelf. The leather binding still appeared new, if not covered in dust—cobwebs clinging to the corners. I crawled down the rolling ladder and sat in the corner of the aisle, tucked away in the shadows .

Batting away the cobwebs and wiping at the thick film of dust on the cover, I opened the book.

Page after page had spells penned on them, from spells to kiss the first person one laid eyes on, to how to heal a broken heart.

My frustration mounted as I neared the back of the book, the pages dwindling.

I heaved a sigh and began to close the book when a title flashed into view.

‘Forging the bond.’ My eyes widened, and I opened the book fully, devouring the words.

‘ The forging the bond spell is classified as a forbidden spell, no longer in practice today, though in ancient times spurned lovers resorted to such debase practices. The spell listed henceforth should only be viewed for research purposes.’

I rolled my eyes and quickly skimmed the page. “Used to break the bond between mates and forge anew with another,” I whispered as I read the words penned down. My heart danced inside my chest. My gaze dropped to the list of ingredients. It read:

‘Simply gather the list of ingredients below.

Nightshade, a drop of blood from the caster, lavender oil, mandrake root, and a strand of hair of the subject of the potion.

Gather the ingredients and combine them into a pulp, then say the incantation of the ancients. Then the potion is complete.

Laughter bubbled up within my throat. Yes! This is exactly what I’ve been looking for.

I felt a prickle at the back of my scalp. Whipping my head about, I searched for prying eyes.

Nothing.

Get a hold of yourself Rosalana! You’re letting your nerves get the best of you!

Sucking in a deep breath, I cast a furtive glance around and then tore the page from the book and stuffed it into my dress pocket.

Keeping my stance relaxed, I exited the library and headed to the garden.

Once I had gathered the ingredients, I grabbed a bowl from the kitchen and a pestle, then returned to my room.

I opened the drawer in my nightstand and reached far back inside, withdrawing a lock of raven hair secured by a leather tie.

Drake’s hair.

I had collected a snippet of his hair when we were kids after begging him for a lock—he had sighed and swiftly cut the end of his hair, handing it to me.

I had kept it all these years. Gathering the ingredients, I placed them inside the bowl.

I ground them into a pulp, then pricked my fingertip with my talon.

I squeezed the drop of blood into the bowl, then tossed in a strand of Drake’s hair.

Speaking softly, so no one could hear, I read aloud the spell.

A bright beam of light broke forth from the bowl, nearly blinding me.

I threw up a hand and slammed my eyelids shut.

Then the bright light dimmed behind my eyelids.

My eyes stinging, I lowered my arm and cracked my eyelids open.

A ruby-red liquid filled the bowl where the pulp had once been.

I drew the bowl toward my nostrils and sniffed.

A pungent smell snapped at my nostrils, and I reared back, my nose wrinkling.

“Stars, this stuff smells awful,” I hissed.

How will I ever get Drake to drink this? He will surely realize it's a potion! I racked my brain for a solution.

I have to find some kind of way to hide the odor from him. Perhaps…I could mix it inside an alcoholic beverage. I shook my head. He still might smell it, though. What if…I get him drunk first and then offer it to him laced in an alcoholic beverage ?

A wicked grin curled my Yes! Of course. I’ll give it to him under the guise of wishing he’d relax.

I knew of the one place where Drake liked to drink and unwind…the Fae Club, Nightingale.

The blare of pop music that pounded from the speakers overhead drowned out my words. Frowning, I shouted to Drake again. He cocked his head, his brow furrowed, not having caught my words. I swallowed back a groan of frustration.

Forcing a smile that felt too stiff, I said sweetly, “Shall I get you another drink?” Drake eyed me, and I felt my heartbeats begin to spike. I held his gaze, keeping the innocent look across my face.