Page 21 of Cursed by the Love Witch (A Monstrous Holiday #2)

21

DARCEE

T he week following the trip to the Bog passes in a blur.

School ramps up as final exams are handed out and term grades are received. In each of my courses, I passed with flying colors. Yesterday, I retook the third exam in Bael’s office and obtained a satisfactory score. With the threat of failing his class no longer looming, there is only one last thing to do.

I glance up at the clock on the wall. Our final necromancy class is almost over, and I’m the last one to complete the Dead Man’s Elixir . I can feel the eyes of the other students on me, as well as Bael’s heavy stare. I don’t dare look up at him and lose my focus.

The heavy stone cauldron bubbles away on my desk. Thick steam curls over the pot’s dark lip. The scent is a mix of mint and fresh soil. I slice through the evernight mushroom with trembling hands and drop it into the brew. I hold my breath in anticipation. After a moment, the liquid turns sparkling blue, and I quickly add the last bit of crushed herbs.

Using a wooden spoon, I stir the potion seven times clockwise and ten times counterclockwise. Dousing the flame, I pick up the glass dropper on my desk and fill it with the reanimation potion. The dead raven on my desk lays still atop a metal tray. I insert the tweezers into its beak and gently open it wide enough to trickle in some of my brew.

It should only take a few drops.

I hold my breath, anticipation building in the room. The blood rushing in my ears makes it so I can barely hear. Come on, I will it. Wake up, little bird.

There is the softest fluttering of atrophying feathers. The first movement is jerky—disjointed—then the creature lets out a raspy squawk and jumps up. It tests its bald wings before launching into the air and taking a meandering lap around the room. My eyes widen in shock, barely believing what I’m seeing. Once it lands back on my desk, its whole body tenses before falling limp to the tray with a clatter.

I let out a squeal of delight and clap my hands. A few other students join in, and I turn to the left and embrace Prue. She hugs me back tightly with a delighted giggle. We break apart, and my eyes go to Bael. There is pride swimming in his violet gaze. He scrolls something on the parchment before him, a secretive smile on his lips that is only for me. I stare down at my final grade and grin.

I passed—that’s it, I’m going to graduate.

Smiling up at him, he gives me a short nod. If we were alone, he’d be much more vocal with his praise. That’s one of the things I’ve missed. He’s been true to his word about keeping his distance. Still, he comes to my bed each night, holding me close before disappearing in the early morning. Our tutoring sessions have now come to an end. I long for his affection, but I know this is for the best.

We have arranged to meet after the graduation ceremony and spend the evening together. It is then when I will give him the antidote. We’ll be at his cottage, far enough away from everyone that I’ll slip away without facing the consequences of what I’ve done. I am a coward.

After class, I’m working on the antidote so it has enough time to charge over the weekend. It’ll need to be robust to counteract the love potion.

Glancing down at my passing grade, I wonder if it was worth all of this. Yes, I am one step closer to my dream of opening an apothecary, but for the first time in my life, the idea no longer seems as appealing—not when it means giving up Bael to have it. Yet I know I cannot keep him.

The bell rings, and I quickly collect my things. A few students hang back to bid Bael farewell. Our eyes meet, and I wish I could stay, but I have an antidote to brew. Prue and I file out together. I’ve barely seen her since the Bog —undoubtedly because she and Zander took things to the next level in their tent that night.

I do not wish to hear whatever she tried to tell me in the woods. My mind is made up, and I don’t need traitorous false hope to make it any worse. Prue bumps my shoulder as we walk, and I look at her.

“How have things been? Zander and I can barely keep our hands off each other.” Prue cringes, her face paling. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to?—”

“Love witch, remember? Of course, I want to hear! I’m so happy for you, truly.” My throat tightens. “The only person to blame for my unhappiness is myself.”

Prue’s lips drop into a frown.

“I’ve never seen you like this, Dar. So sad.” She touches my shoulder gently. “Look, what I was going to say at the Bog ?—”

“I don’t want to hear it—not right now, Prue. Okay?” The words rush from my mouth. I gently shake off her touch. “I—I have to go.”

I don’t wait for her response and hurry down the hallway. The walls seem to be closing in on me. The painful ache in my chest yawns open, slicing at my soul with its claws. What’s the point of anything when I can’t have the one thing I truly desire? There will never be another who makes me feel like Bael does, and I’ve ruined it. This whole mess is my fault.

Bursting into Saege’s room, I get to work without giving myself a chance to reconsider making it. I remember the spell I used, plucking which ingredients will counteract them the best. I toss them all into a cauldron. Closing my eyes, I pull at my warm magic, allowing the golden light to flow from me and into the brew. With it, I set my intention to undo what I’ve done—infusing it into the concoction.

Once I open my eyes, I stare down at the magenta liquid. I stir it vigorously to make sure everything is incorporated. One vial of this and all the love Bael has shown me these past weeks will be done for. I’ll be alone again, but only this time will I have the memories of what could’ve been to contend with. They gather around the room, hiding like shadows and sneering at me.

A choked sob works its way up my throat. My tears drench the table below. Droplets fall into my potion, causing it to shimmer. I quickly turn the flame off and push it away.

“Darcee?” A concerned voice calls from above. “Is that you?”

Furiously, I wipe at my face.

“Yes, Mistress Saege. I’m down here.”

My voice sounds raw.

Saege appears in one of her long white silk robes. Her graying hair is pulled into a loose bun at the base of her neck, and a pencil protrudes through it. Gracefully, she floats over to me, her eyes rife with concern.

“My dear, whatever is the matter?”

I shake my head, trying my best to fake a convincing smile.

“Nothing, Mistress. It's just graduation blues. I’m going to miss this place—more than I thought.”

Saege nods, but I know my lie does not entirely convince her.

“You don’t have to leave at all. We’d be happy to have you join us as faculty here. Love magic has been missing from the curriculum for some time. We haven’t had as fine a love witch as you in decades.”

My heart lifts at her praise. In a perfect world, I take her up on the offer. I’d consider giving teaching a go recently. Love magic is so woefully underappreciated. Bael and I could work side by side, spending nights together in his cottage and passing each other in the hall—sneaking off for midday trysts while no one was watching.

It is a lovely dream that cannot be.

“Thank you, Mistress Saege, but I’ve already paid for my first month’s rent at the apothecary.”

“If you ever change your mind, the offer still stands.” Saege begins to turn before pausing. Her eyes are so intense I almost buckle under her stare. “Forgive me for prying, my dear. However, I wonder if some of your distress has to do with Professor Fangborne.”

My mouth goes dry, and I have to grip the side of the table to stay upright. I search for the words, not finding any of use. Saege waves a dismissive hand.

“You’re an adult, Darcee. Besides, the fraternization policy between students and professors is murky at best.”

I don’t want to lie to her, so I let my silence be all the confirmation she needs. Saege nods, a smile playing on her lips.

“That’s how these things always go, isn’t it? Opposites attract. As I'm sure you know, Bael is a good male.” Her eyes harden. “Unless he’s done something horrible to you that I must be made aware of.”

I shake my head.

“He’s the best male I’ve ever known.”

Saege’s smile deepens.

“What he did for me and my brother is a kindness most would not offer. Going in the veil like that takes a toll, but he knew how much I’d been suffering.”

All of this started because I believed him to be horrible—capable of nothing but cruelty. How wrong I had been. The true male Bael is will make the perfect partner for someone, and as much as I wish that person were me, it won’t be. Fresh tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I wipe them away.

“Why the tears then, my dear?”

“Everything is just happening so fast—I?—”

“That is the nature of love, isn’t it? You would know better than anyone how all-consuming it can be. It’s the most powerful magic in the world.” Her smile turns wistful. “I don’t know why I’m even surprised. He was always so enamored with you.”

The blood in my veins freezes.

“What do you mean?”

Mistress Saege gives a delicate shrug.

“Bael was always asking after you—practically from the moment you arrived. Then, when you became my teaching assistant, he’d constantly pepper me with questions about you and your skill level. He was always impressed by your proficiency in divination and potion making.” Saege chuckles softly. “It’s why I suggested you enroll in his course—so he could finally experience you firsthand. Pretty good matchmaking on my part for a non-love witch, hmm?”

I would laugh along with her, but I feel unsteady. Traitorous hope rises within me no matter how hard I shove against it. I remind myself that curiosity and desire are not the same thing. Any interest he may have had in me before never prompted him to treat me with anything other than disdain.

Saege’s warm hand falls to my shoulder.

“You deserve to be happy, Darcee. Besides, you won’t be the first student-teacher relationship Axwyne has brought together. The Head Mistress and I met when I was a student, and we’ve been together for decades.”

I give her a watery smile.

“I hope our love is as everlasting as yours.”

Saege squeezes my shoulder before turning away.

I gaze down at the antidote brewing in my cauldron. The cracks in my heart deepen as I stare into it. I have to give him this if there is even the slightest chance of us having a future. We’ll find each other if we are truly meant to be. And if we aren’t well, I’ll be glad that I’m far enough away from him when the potion wears off, and I won’t see the fondness on his face twist into disgust.

Sticking to my plan should be easy enough. I’ll be gone before he even realizes what I’ve done.