Page 11 of Kissing Potions and Elves

The bedroom door creaks open, interrupting my thoughts. Isobel carries in a tea tray and carefully sets it on the side table. I’m stunned when she takes a seat on the edge of my bed as if we werebondmatesinstead of mere acquaintances.

“Sit up,” she gently instructs.

I frown suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because it’ll be easier to drink the tea,” she says patiently, as if explaining something incredibly obvious to a child.

With an inward sigh, I reluctantly push myself upright, leaning against the pillows. She picks up the teacup and holds it toward me expectantly. “Now, open your mouth.”

Pursing my lips, I take the cup from her hand. “I’m not completely helpless,” I grumble.

She huffs in frustration. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Yes, well, yourhelphas gotten me into enough trouble already,” I mutter, sipping the hot liquid carefully. The soothing taste of lavender warms me, immediately easing some of the tension from my shoulders and neck.

When I finish, she takes the empty cup and places it back on the tray, then produces a steaming hand towel.

“Now, lie back.”

I hesitate, narrowing my eyes at the towel. “Why? What exactly are you planning now?”

“Will you just trust me for five minutes?” She huffs. “I’m trying to help you.”

With a low grumble, I lie back down and close my eyes. A moment later, she places the towel across my forehead, the soothing heat seeping pleasantly into my skin. Her fingers brushover my temples, carefully adjusting the warm fabric, and I nearly jump at the unexpected contact.

No one has ever touched me like this, with such tender attentiveness. It’s strangely disconcerting.

She pulls the blankets up to my chin, tucking them securely around my shoulders. “There you are.” She smiles. “Good as new.”

I arch a skeptical brow. “You really think so?”

“Well, good enough for now.” She laughs softly. “Your headache should be gone in no time.”

Something inside me eases, a tension I hadn’t realized had been weighing me down loosening just a little.

When she leans forward to adjust the towel again, my gaze snags on the robe slipping from her shoulder, revealing a tantalizing expanse of bare flesh that would make any male’s thoughts wander.

Something dark and primal stirs inside me as I realize she’s wearing some of my clothing. My nostrils flare as I inhale deeply, my scent subtly entwined with hers, sparking a strange possessiveness in my chest. “Is that my shirt?”

“I’m sorry.” Isobel flushes bright red as she tugs the robe back over her shoulder. “I didn’t have anything else to wear. My clothes were all muddy from the rain.”

A wave of guilt washes over me. I didn’t mean to sound accusing. It simply caught me off guard, especially the intensity of my own reaction. “It’s alright. In the morning, ring the bell and Hilda can bring you something suitable to wear in the meantime.”

She nods, clearly relieved. “Thank you.”

I watch her thoughtfully as she rises from the bed and picks up the tea tray. “Goodnight, Lyrion.”

“Goodnight.”

She slips out of the room, closing the door behind her. I lie staring up at the ceiling, unable to ignore the strange warmth settling in my chest. She’s undeniably strange, this human girl. Clumsy, unrefined, and entirely unpredictable.

Yet, somehow, I find myself intrigued.

Stars help me.

CHAPTER 6

ISOBEL