10. Kiaran #2
“I told you I’m not helping you practice any sort of veiling and especially not for me.” She rolled her eyes at me, never stopping the counterclockwise motion of the ladle.
“I’m not working on that. I’m making an elixir to boost endorphins. It’s supposed to make you feel euphoric. If anyone in this house needs a mood booster, it’s you.”
“Ha, ha, very funny. You’re lying.” Giving her a displeased look, she nodded toward her journal. “Look. I swear I’m not lying. You were right, I should try some easier spells first.”
Eyeing her warily, I walked over to her ridiculously unorganized notes.
Sure enough, Mood Booster was scribbled in messy handwriting at the top of the page .
“Fine. I’ll do whatever you want so you stop calling me a moody bitch in your head.
” She blushed at my admission of listening in on her thoughts more than I replied aloud to.
Walking up to the bubbling cauldron, I spat in it. The worst part of alchemy was the bodily fluids infused in it to better bind it to someone. It wasn’t a requirement, but its efficacy greatly increased with it.
As soon as it hit the mixture, Amelie stirred vigorously.
Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and she shrugged her hair off her shoulder to avoid adding it to the cauldron.
She’d apparently left in such a hurry this morning that she didn’t put in her typical messy style.
Moving behind her, I started putting one long braid into her thick hair, and Fern summoned a tie around the end.
“How do you know how to braid?” Amelie asked, nearly out of breath.
“I used to braid my sister Mia’s hair. She said I was more gentle than our mother was.”
“Who knew you had such a soft side, magic man.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know.” I gave her a wink as I sat at the table to enjoy my breakfast. “And stop calling me that.”
“Stop calling me pretty girl,” she said in the worst impersonation of my voice.
“But you are a pretty girl.”
Her cheeks pinked and her lips twisted to hide her smile. “And you’re a man with magic.”
I rolled my eyes and went back to my food. I wasn’t sure what the tell was, but Amelie stopped stirring and took a few deep breaths in, straight over the smoke that was toppling over the cauldron.
“It’s ready! You can take it after breakfast.”
I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “I’m done. Give it to me.” I felt happier than normal this morning, having had the best night of sleep in my cloud of a bed. But I didn’t miss the intrigue trickling over me at the chance to feel euphoric for a short bit.
Amelie scooped a little glass vial through the thick mixture and strode over to me.
“It shouldn’t be hot, but it probably won’t taste very good.
” She stretched her arm out to hand me the elixir.
I grabbed it and tossed it back as if the last shot I took was yesterday and not two centuries ago.
Amelie had already laid herself on the couch, not waiting for me to finish.
Back home, flowers bloomed when the clock struck midnight during the winter to spring season change.
It happened in seconds. All around, gardens became bright with a variety of flowers in every color Avonya had ever seen.
It was an explosion of florals, and the entire realm came to our estate to view the beguiling event.
That was what this felt like. My body thrummed with energy.
It felt like my blood was moving faster than ever, looking for an escape.
Feather light tingles trailed their way up my arms from my fingertips to the pit of my stomach.
It felt like static all over the surface of my body.
My brain was clear and full of light. My darkness washed away like old sand being sucked back into the Tala Sea.
“Amelie, it worked. You did it!” I yelled as I ran to her, hoping she might see the flowers blooming all over my soul.
She was lying on the couch, though, cold and unmoving. Her eyes were stuck on the ceiling directly above her. “Amelie?” She looked dead. As if her soul had–oh no.
No, no, no. She swore it wasn’t a lie.
Running back to her journal, I looked at the page again.
At the top it read Mood Boosting Spell but reading the summary and recipe closer, it was the same one she’d shown me last night when arguing about whether I’d allow her to work on veiling.
If she veiled my curse, it would put her in a state between life and death.
Because I was bound to the cottage, Amelie would be bound to her own inner consciousness.
To veil and unveil curses, memories, anything–it was dangerous.
Only members of the High Table could do it without repercussions.
For a common Witch, it came with side effects.
Their mind could turn to mush by taking on whatever was veiled, all magic needed a balance.
Amelie wasn’t a member of the High Table though, nor was she even a common Witch, so I prayed to her God she didn’t just kill herself.
Amelie said that she wanted to do this so I could leave the cottage.
It would’ve been the biggest piece of her manifestation.
Fern had already opened the front door for me, a traitor if I’d ever seen one.
She should not have been encouraging Amelie in her overzealous ideas.
I wouldn’t leave her side. As I pressed my ear over her heart, I heard the softest beat.
Suddenly, I became weightless. My body levitated over the couch, being pulled from Amelie’s lifeless body.
Fern was floating me toward the door. I fought and fought in fear of my entire body crumbling into a pile of broken bones.
I definitely felt different, but Amelie’s first try at alchemy could not have been perfect.
The closer I got to the door, the faster my heart pounded in my chest.
The tips of my fingers searched for the door frame.
My chest was tight and my soul pleaded for mercy.
My head was through the doorway first. I braced for my skull to shatter, but it never came.
Instead, my entire body crashed onto something plush and prickly.
I peeked through one eye and saw bright green grass sprouting all around me.
The ground was soft compared to the wooden floors I’d padded around on for the better part of my life. I pressed my palms flat to the soil to stand. The fresh air filled my lungs with promises, hope. She did it. She got me out.
Unbelievable.
I was fully outside of the cottage for the first time in two centuries, and all I could think about was going back inside and waiting at the nearly dead girl’s side for her to wake up.
Only those who sat at the High Table could veil perfectly. Yet this anomaly of a woman who showed up battered and bruised a month ago did it seamlessly on her first try.
I marched back inside, and Fern slowly closed the door behind me. I swore I heard a whisper in the wind say See? Don’t doubt her.
I lifted Amelie’s head and sat down on the couch, resting her upper body in my lap. Checking her pulse again, a breath of relief escaped me when I noticed it was beating strong again. The veil should wear off quickly in our proximity, and when it did, I wouldn’t hesitate to put her in her place.
She bested me, again. Just like she did the night she tried to escape.
My walls with her were always down. Something in my soul wouldn’t allow me to protect myself from her.
She said jump, I asked how high. She said drink this elixir, I tossed it back like it was the water of life.
Hell, if she said drop dead, I think my heart would stop on the beat.
Tracing my index finger around the curve of her delicate jaw, I admired her perfect face.
Her cheeks had filled out, and it somehow contoured her high cheekbones even more.
Her once pale, cracked lips were now smooth and blushed with a soft pink color.
She was every bit as breathtaking as the day she arrived in complete disarray, but it was something more indescribable now.
The golden rivers in her idle eyes were glowing like the air around fire.
And I was a moth to that flame.
The Morgenstern women had eyes like these.
Murals of their blues and golds colored the walls of the business district in Avonya.
They paid homage to the most powerful breed of Witches our realm had ever seen.
Instead of holding soulful magic like the rest of Avonya, they had elemental magic.
They drew from nature, making the sisters limitless.
They were feared but respected, which drove our High Priestess mad. It was why their bloodline had to end.
If Amelie had celestial blood, I’d guess she was of the most powerful of families.
All celestial bloodlines were meticulously plotted out years before we were born. The High Priestess would choose to fate us based on our rank and looks. Vanity was important to immortals. My parents were likely fated to find each other when their great-grandparents were in their mother’s womb.
You knew just by looking at someone if they were powerful or not. My mother, being a vital woman in the Coven, and my father being from a family that was riddled with high society Witches, it allowed my sister and I to have astounding genetics.
The girls in Avonya knew how fated mates worked. That if they were mine, it would secure a tether between us. It could never be broken. But it never stopped them from trying to weasel their way in. If the High Priestess could’ve fated me with someone like Amelie, she would’ve in a heartbeat.
McCalmont blood with the beauty of the woman laid across my lap would be unstoppable.