“It’s for the best.”
His black eyes narrow at me in a very human gesture. I sigh and turn my glance toward the spot we originally found Rami.
“It’s for the best,” I repeat. Though I can’t deny the stab of hurt in my chest that he didn’t show up today. “Right?”
Ludo shakes his head, turns away so his back is facing me, and eats his strawberry. My own familiar refuses to even acknowledge me.
“It’s not like I can go in search of him,” I snap, and return to my work.
The curse has always been a nuisance, but tolerable. Something I’ve grown accustomed to over the many years. The lack of human contact was never a burden, never an incessant need. However, enter a mortal with beautiful eyes and a broken soul, and I’m smitten. The curse has turned into a literal weight that I’m only now realizing I’ve been carrying for too long. And I’m exhausted. My nights are now waiting until Rami shows up. Hanging on every word, even if I understand almost none of it. And then fighting my every instinct to keep myself from getting close or touching him. I’ve never felt so trapped.
Without him at my side, the symphony of the evening creatures feels more like a funeral march.
With a growl of frustration, I push up from the dirt and pace the boundary of my prison. My eyes search the oppressive darkness for any signs of the little human.
The night creatures that have always been a comforting serenade suddenly feel suffocating. The cicadas repeat a chorusofworthless, worthless, worthlesswhile the tree frogs singbroken, broken, broken.
My power sparks and ripples just beneath my skin, feeding off my emotions. I stretch my fingers, and then clench into a fist. I roll my shoulders. Rock my head to stretch my neck. Anything to stave off the impending tsunami of magic threatening to consume me.
This hasn’t happened since I was a boy coming into my powers. I fidget with the leather-wrapped shirt that suddenly feels too constricting. My braided hair tugs uncomfortably on my scalp.
Every sensation acts against me, pulling me into the dark hole, reminding me that I’m nothing. A cursed witch in the woods with no real future.
Worthless.
Broken.
Clenching my jaw tight enough to crack my molars, I squeeze my eyes shut, and tug at the roots of my hair. All to stave off the wash of magic swirling up my arms and tickling along my flesh.
“Confractus!” My hand shoots out, aiming the frustration away from my home and garden. Controlling the chaos burying me. The golden aura is tinged with black as it flies from my hand, cracking a nearby boulder down the middle.
The jagged edges of the stone split into two large pieces and roll to the sides. Black char lines mark up the inside of the break as evidence of my lack of control.
I drop to my knees and stare at the destruction caused by my magic. A cold sweat breaks out across my flesh despite the warm evening. As a witch of Mother Earth, destruction is darker and frowned upon.
What will she think of me now that I am not the witch I once was?
I haven’t felt this unmoored sincehefirst cursed me.
Chapter 17
Abraham's POV
The bell jingles over my shop’s door, and my head shoots up from where it was resting on my hand against the counter. Hope makes my heart beat faster, but it’s not Rami. Just another one of the locals.
She moves quickly through the store, purchasing a teen’s study Bible, a popular fantasy novel, and a book on parenting a troubled teen. Ringing up her items is monotonous. Even worse, she insists on telling me about her son, who iswild.
Which, of course, makes me think about the beautiful young man with eyes the color of a clear summer sky. His grandmother thinks him wild too. Not the word I’d use to describe him, though.
Curious? Yes.
Stubborn to a fault? Also yes.
Beautiful inside and out?Sigh.
Why did I push him too far and kiss him?
Why do I continually insist on going after the things I can’t—shouldn’t—have?
