Page 11 of Kissing Potions and Elves (Oakvale Ever After #1)
ISOBEL
M y heart hammers as I stare helplessly at the endless rows of jars. The shelves are filled with neatly labeled ingredients, each container inscribed with elegant Elven script.
I recognize none of them. Without Tressa’s careful symbols sketched beside the names, or my usual method of painstakingly matching squiggles, I’m utterly lost.
Humiliation prickles hotly at the back of my neck.
I wish I knew how to read properly. I’m worried Lyrion’s going to discover that I’m illiterate.
Even Tressa doesn’t know. I already get the impression that Lyrion doesn’t think very highly of humans, and I’d hate for him to think even less of me than he already does.
“Um.” I turn toward Lyrion. “Could you… please show me the headache potion spell in your book? The recipe, I mean?”
He frowns, confusion flickering in his violet eyes. “The potions are arranged alphabetically. It’s under ‘H’ for ‘headache.’”
Of course it is. Heat rushes to my cheeks, embarrassment sinking deeper into my bones. I look down at the tome lying on his worktable and swallow hard. “Could you… please find it?”
Lyrion sighs impatiently but strides gracefully to the book, flipping it open. A hint of irritation flits across his features as he taps one slender finger against the page. “There.”
My veins fill with ice as I stare at the graceful, looping letters on the parchment.
These letters and symbols appear very different from the ones in Tressa’s potion book.
I focus as I study the shapes, trying to commit them to memory before I search for the corresponding ingredients on the shelves.
Stalling for time, I ask, “If you have all of this, why do you come to the café for Tressa’s potion tea?”
“My headaches are often so bad, I cannot concentrate well enough to trust myself to mix the ingredients correctly. And most Elves do not treat themselves with their own potions anyway, including myself. It’s the best way to prevent any accidental mishaps.
” He arches a brow as he gives me a pointed look. “ Normally , that is.”
I wince inwardly.
He waves a hand at the several rows of containers. “Let me know if anything looks familiar.”
Nodding, I carry the book closer to the shelves, eyes darting between the page and the jars. Tentatively, I select each ingredient, matching it to the ornate script.
Anxiety twists deep within as Lyrion scrutinizes my every move.
After I gather everything, I return to the table, hopeful and terrified that I’ve picked something wrong.
Lyrion frowns as he studies the items. “These are all correct.” My heart soars, but it quickly plummets when he adds, “But clearly, you must have used something else as well. What else did you add to my tea?” He gestures to the containers.
“We must identify each ingredient so we can best determine how to reverse the effects.”
My heart pounds as I walk back to the shelves, studying every jar. One with dried flowers that look like hearts catches my eye. It looks vaguely familiar. Hesitantly, I grab it, offering it toward him with shaking hands. “Maybe this one?”
“Vaelar’s mercy!” He snatches it from me, eyes widening. “This cannot be the one. If you’d used this I would have fallen into an enchanted sleep possibly for the rest of my life.” He shakes his head. “This cannot be right.” He gestures to the shelves. “Look again.”
“I—I didn’t mean to—”
“Obviously,” he mutters, placing the jar safely out of reach. “Does anything else look familiar?”
Swallowing nervously, I grab another jar, holding it toward him hopefully.
His lips flatten into a thin line. “This one would’ve had me howling at the sky like a moon-cursed Wolf Shifter. You couldn’t have used this.”
Heat scorches my cheeks, humiliation building in my chest. “I’m sorry! I’m just—”
Before I can finish, my foot catches on the edge of the rug.
With a startled yelp, I pitch forward, my arm swinging wildly and crashing into the shelves.
Glass jars tumble to the floor, smashing open, sending puffs of magic powder into the air.
The room erupts into a dazzling explosion of shimmering, sparkling light.
I cough, blinking rapidly through the cloud of glittering dust floating around us. Lyrion stands perfectly still, his mouth open as he stares at the chaos in shock.
“I—I’m so sorry!” Why must I be so clumsy? I’ve destroyed his workroom; he’s bound to be furious. I brace myself for his reaction. “I—I didn’t mean—”
“Moon and stars,” he groans as he runs a hand roughly through his dark hair, glitter showering from the silken strands. “I’ve never met anyone so spectacularly adept at causing trouble.”
Despite his grumbling, I notice a slight upward twitch at the corners of his mouth. My heart skips. “You’re not… mad?”
“It was an accident. There’s nothing here that cannot be replaced.” Barely restrained amusement dances behind his eyes as he shakes his head. “Gods help me, I’ll be lucky if my house isn’t burned to the ground before all this is over.”
I laugh at his teasing. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not that bad.”
He arches a brow, and I laugh even more before I walk back over to him. “Lean down so I can clean the glitter off your face.”
“It’s fine,” he says with a dismissive hand.
“Let me help,” I insist. “Please. It’s the least I can do.”
After a moment, he lowers himself, bringing his face even with mine. Stars, he’s so handsome. My fingers tremble slightly as I brush glitter from his cheeks. He’s so close, the warm mint of his breath mingles with my own.
I’m completely mesmerized as his eyes lock with mine and his pupils widen so that only a thin rim of violet is visible around the edges. My heart hammers as he slowly wraps his hands around my waist and draws me to him.
“Isobel,” he says softly before he captures my mouth with his own in a searing kiss.
I surrender completely as his tongue curls against mine, coaxing and claiming as he kisses me like a man possessed. Breathless and slightly dizzy, I curl my fingers into his tunic to pull him even closer, desperately craving more.
When he finally breaks away, his breathing is ragged and his expression is a mixture of desire and frustration. “We have to break this spell,” he rasps. “Otherwise, we’ll be trapped in this madness for weeks.”
Disappointment and longing war within me, but I nod weakly, unable to speak. I’ve never wanted anything as desperately as I want his kiss again.
Heaven help me, if we don’t find a way to break the potion’s effects, I’m going to be in serious danger of wanting far more honey cakes, lingering glances, and moonlit strolls with a certain broody Elf. And I’m not sure my heart is ready for the trouble that might bring.