Page 28 of The Banshee and the Warlock

I call on my magic, the purple smoke sneaking into the lock and making it click. I push open the door and gesture for her to head inside.

"You'd think they'd use locks that would stop magical interference," she murmurs.

"Maybe they think no one is foolish enough to break into a lab in the first place."

"Seems like they're wrong," she responds.

She brushes past me, reaching out to trail her hand across my chest as she does, while Thistle sways on her shoulder, completely unaffected by the situation. I don't know enough about familiars to be certain, but it does seem normal from what I've witnessed around the academy and other people who have them.

I close the door and place another spell on it that should let me know if anyone tries to open it unexpectedly. Though I do believe what I said to Anja, I think for the most part, the staff just don't expect students to end up here randomly.

I turn around to find her standing in the moonlight, her lips parted and the silver-white of her hair shining, making her look more beautiful than ever.

Mate.

The urge to ignore everything and kiss her overtakes me. Though in reality, I want far more than that. But I can't. I have to fight with that part of myself and make it wait until she knows she's sure about me. About us. And the closer we get, the harder it's going to be if she chooses to deny me.

"Are you okay?" she asks, stepping forward and lifting a hand.

Thistle flaps her wings and flies over to the window to look outside.

I clear my throat. "I'm fine."

She moves into the gloom, and for one eerie moment, I get a sense that she's something dark and dangerous. No doubt it's the magic within her. A lot of what she's saying makes it seem like she's some kind of omen-driven being, but I'll probably know more after she's drunk the potion.

"Where do you want me?" she asks.

Anywhere. Everywhere.

I push the thought aside. It's not what she's asking. "Can you set up a cauldron?" I turn away so she can't see the purple that's no doubt ringing my eyes right now. She doesn't seem to have figured out that it shows up when I'm thinking of the mate bond as well as when I do magic. Which I guess makes sense when the mate bond is so tightly tied to my magic.

I sort through the ingredient drawers, being careful not to take too much of anything that will make it too obvious we've been in here. I doubt Professor Fairburn will be able to figure out it's us, but it's always better to play it safe.

Once I've got everything, I head over to where the cauldron is sitting on the small flame and start prepping everything.

"Do you want me to do anything?" Anja asks.

"No, I've got it," I assure her. "But I'm going to need some of your hair."

"My hair?" She reaches up to touch it.

"Well, technically, it can be anything. Blood, a fingernail, skin. I just figured hair would hurt the least." I start chopping the ingredients.

"Ah, right, that makes sense. How much?"

"Just a few strands should do," I respond.

"Okay." She tugs and pulls out some strands, setting them down on the workbench beside me. "Where did you learn potions?"

"My dad," I respond. "He's really good at them. Mum not so much, even though she's great in the kitchen."

"Mmm, I remember the shortbread." She gets an almost dreamy expression on her face. I don't blame her, my mum's baking is excellent.

"I think she's sending gingerbread next week."

"Biscuits or cake?"

"Which would you prefer?" I push the chopped mugwort root into the cauldron, getting a hiss in response.