Page 8 of Cursed by the Love Witch (A Monstrous Holiday #2)

8

DARCEE

I watch in awe as Bael expertly crafts the reanimation potion.

He barely glances at the manual but talks through each step in depth with me. He shows me the difference between cutting and dicing and how you must grind everything into a fine powder to ensure all ingredients are dispersed evenly to achieve the desired result.

“Reanimation is all about balance. Even the smallest thing can throw it off and ruin the potion.”

I watch him add moon water to a gray powder before turning it into a paste. He then uses that to drop dollops into the boiling cauldron.

“I never would’ve thought to do that,” I say.

His lips twitch as if he is suppressing a grin. Working with him has been surprisingly easy. Our movements feel naturally in step with each other.

“It’s simple really. Grave dust enhances the property of the nail shavings. Mixing them with moon water further strengthens them. The paste will ensure our potion doesn’t become too thin and will lack the necessary potency to work.” He nods to the small bowls laid out before me. “You try.”

Biting my lip, I nod. Doing exactly what he did, I sift the grave dust and nail shavings into a separate bowl before slowly pouring in the moon water. It takes a few tries to get the consistency right, but I smile and look at him once it’s the thickness of wet sand. His eyes glow with approval, and it sends a thrill through me.

“Excellent, Darcee.”

I watch his large hand slide along the top of the work table before coming to rest atop mine. My eyes dart around the room, but everyone is too absorbed in their work to notice.

“I had a look through your old exams,” he whispers. My face heats, preparing for a cutting remark about my lack of work ethic. “I realize now what the problem is. It wasn’t that you weren’t trying or doing the required reading—I’m ashamed to admit I believed that to be the case for a while. However, it is now clear that you’ve been doing all the work backward because your natural affinity contrasts necromancy. It’s why you wouldn’t think of making a paste with the grave dust. You're used to potions being thin and everything working in tandem. That is not the case with dark magic.”

The gray skin of his cheeks darkens, and his eyes blaze.

“You have exceptional skill, Darcee. A seasoned professor like myself should’ve noticed that sooner and offered assistance.” His hand squeezes mine. “I apologize for failing you.”

My mouth feels dry. Never in my life would I have expected this—for Bael to acknowledge what I always thought was the case in this class. Prue may have been right; if I had come to him, he would’ve made this discovery earlier, and I would never have been in this position. Even without the love potion, I can see the male he is under the surface. His gruff nature is due to what Mistress Saege said. These potions are serious.

Necromancy is dark magic, and it takes a particular type of warlock to master it the way he has. Yet that doesn’t mean he lacks total compassion. I’m a testament to that. My smile at him is genuine as I step closer and keep my voice low.

“You’re going to help me now, though. Right?” I blink up at him. “If your tutoring offer still stands, I would very much like to accept it.”

Biting my lip, I can’t believe what I’m about to do. I don’t give myself a moment to reconsider and lose my nerve.

Slipping my hand from underneath, I drag my hand along the top of his. He inhales sharply as our bodies drift closer. Looking up at him through my lashes, my smile takes on a more sensual edge.

“Among other things,” I add breathily.

I have to lean into this for now. A little flirting on my part will keep the potion stable. If he senses me pulling away, it could intensify and prolong the effects, which we both cannot risk.

Additionally, once the potion is over, if he remembers me being into this, perhaps he’ll be kind enough not to press the issue or seek me out again.

His eyes darken as he nods.

“Everything I offered you is still very much on the table.”

“Good,” I say, reaching across him to pick up a pair of tongs.

Our bodies brush, and the heat of his burns through my clothes. I stay partially bent over the table and look up at him as I pluck a mummified figure from the end of the table.

“This goes in next?” I ask.

Bael nods, his fingers curling into the desktop. Rising to my full height, I allow our hips to brush as I drop the dead finger into the boiling cauldron. Bael hisses beside me, and I can’t suppress my giggle. It’s awful to admit, but I’m enjoying myself. I haven’t had anyone to seduce in a long time. I should relish this while I can.

Reaching to stir the potion, I notice the tremble in his hand. Another soft giggle bubbles out of me, and his eyes dart to mine. His lips pull into a very un-Bael-like grin. If only he had been like this all the time, maybe then?—

I shake myself, refusing even to consider it. This isn’t real.

“What’s next?” I ask softly.

“That depends,” he says.

“On?”

“If I want to be a good male and finish this potion with you before assigning you all four hours of take-home spellwork.”

My hand falls to my chest in mock outrage.

“Spellwork over the weekend? Don’t be so cruel.” I lean in closer, dropping my voice into the softest sigh. “What is the other option?”

“That I dismiss class now, bend you over this table, and see how pink you are everywhere.”

A soft sigh leaves me, and I nearly fall against him. The mouth on this warlock causes me to heat in places I haven’t in a long time. My hand slides slowly towards him before slipping under the fabric of his silk shirt. The fine muscles of his back play against my fingers.

You would think I was the one who ingested a love potion the way I’m acting. It’s as if my body has a mind of its own. I once more feel like a puppet on the string, and the one controlling me is fueled by depraved desire.

“Those are quite the choices, High Warlock,” I sigh. “Might I suggest we?—”

I don’t get the chance to finish as a flurry of movement catches my attention. Two students are walking towards us, and I reluctantly slide my hand and body away. Goddess, I’m losing it. I need to be more careful.

The last thing I need is for someone to discover what is happening between us and ask questions. No one would believe Bael suddenly felt this way towards me, and my mistake would indeed be discovered.

Luckily, the two students don’t seem to notice anything, and Bael inspects their potion quickly. After them, two more students appear, and on and on until the bell signaling the end of class chimes.

“Leave your potions on your desks, and I’ll examine them after you leave. As for this weekend,” he pauses, and everyone in the class holds their breath. “Enjoy it. Next week's lectures will be some of our hardest yet.”

A rowdy cheer goes up as the other students grab their belongings and file out. I make no moves to leave. Watching the last students trickle out, I hear the door click firmly shut and fall into my discarded chair. Bael looks down at me, the air in the room shifting.

“That was close.” I shake my head. “We have to be more discreet. It’s easy to get, um, carried away.”

Bael chuckles a rusty sound that tucks itself into my heart.

“Student-teacher relationships are frowned upon,” he admits, leaning against the table. “I wouldn’t want any ramifications happening this close to graduation.”

I nod, suddenly feeling very tired. Bael looks at me closely and crosses his arms over his massive chest.

“I’m tempted to ask you to return after your period with Mistress Saege so we can begin your tutoring. However, I know it’s the end of the week, and you surely have better plans.”

I open my mouth but quickly shut it as I watch Bael kneel before me. His hands tangle with mine in my lap. Dark power flows from him, dancing with my own. If only this were real—no one has ever looked at me this way before.

“Darcee, I want—no, I need—to do this right. To court you properly as my people have done for centuries. I have to show you I can be worthy of you.”

“Worthy of me? I’m not all that special,” I say, swallowing.

His eyes harden slightly.

“There are no words that would do you justice. Never forget that.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he continues.

“That is why I need to take this weekend to prepare. Tell me you want this, Darcee. There’s no going back if you say yes. Be honest with me. Please.”

I stare into his violet eyes and feel the weight of his promise pressing down on me. I am drowning in his scent and will greet death with a smile.

“Yes,” I say. The selfish truth of it all is that I mean it. I’m not playing a game to appease the love potion. I mean it. That’s what makes all of this so dangerous.

Hopefully, whatever needs to be planned won’t be too elaborate, and it will become a distant, unpleasant memory for him once the potion fades.

“I’ll begin tutoring you on Monday after class. I realize now you aren’t much of a morning person.” I meet his smile with one of my own. “There are three exams you need to retake. We should be able to accomplish them all before the grade submission deadline for graduation.”

“Thank you, Bael. Truly.”

A shiver goes through him as I say his name. Slowly, he rises to his feet, helping me out of the chair as he does. My head falls back as his fingers tuck a loose curl behind my ear. Gently, he skims over the shell, and now it’s my turn to tremble.

“You are so beautiful. I thought it from the first moment I saw you.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I had just had a charm blow up on me the period before. I was covered in day-old coffee grounds and chewed-up mint leaves.”

Again, he laughs, a sound I’ll never forget.

“A gallon of mud could be dropped on you, and you’d still be the loveliest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Don’t manifest that for me,” I say, even as my cheeks warm.

Pulling back, I collect my things from the desk. Bael observes each of my movements. I strode towards the door and finally looked at him over my shoulder.

“Have a nice weekend.”

“You do the same, Darcee.” A slight grin tugs at his lips. “I’ll be watching.”

I laugh and shake my head. The intensity in his gaze tells me he isn’t kidding. The thrill that runs through me at the thought is delicious.

Dear Goddess, I am in so much trouble.