Page 17 of The Soulmate Bakery

The curtness of his tone made me bristle. ‘Are we role-playing your fantasy of being a dictator?’ I snapped, feeling a flush rise under my skin.

‘Bold of you to think you know my fantasies, Reverie,’ Orion retorted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The flush rose higher to my cheeks.

His grin widened at my lack of response. ‘Now, can you please recite the spell you cast on the cookies.’

‘I didn’t say the spell in Latin. I translated it – so that night, I said “To pierce with love and bind my heart, Cupido please land your mark.”’ I recited the translation perfectly. I would likely never forget the spell that had created this whole mess.

‘That’s where you went wrong – the translation is incorrect. The right translation is: “To pierce with love and bind my heart, Cupido please find your mark.”’ And then with perfect pronunciation, he added the Latin version. ‘Amore transfige et cor meum liga, Cupido, quaeso, figam tuam reperi.’

‘Find your mark,’ I echoed, and it clicked in my head once I said it aloud. ‘Like finding your soulmate.’

‘Exactly. It’s a minor thing, but Latin spells are finicky like that,’ Orion said with a self-satisfied note in his voice.

I slumped back in my chair as disbelief took hold of me. One word. One word and I wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

A disaster waiting to happen.

Was that all I was? Was that all I was ever going to be – one step away from getting it right but always getting it wrong instead?

‘To counter the spell you’ve cast, you’ll just have to cast the correct spell under the autumn moon, find your soulmate and share a kiss,’ Orion continued, briskly. This time, there was no sign of any emotion on his face. He just sounded like his usual self – irritated to be dealing with this.

‘Right. Easy,’ I muttered, feeling a headache coming on.

I heard Orion’s slight intake of breath before he spoke again. ‘I know spellcasting isn’t easy for you per se, so I was thinking – every lesson we have will focus on a skill that will make casting the counterspell easier.’ His tone was gruff, but it was clear he was trying to be gentle with me.

‘You don’t have to talk to me like I’m an idiot,’ I retorted, feeling that fist of embarrassment close around my chest again. Sure, I knew I wasn’t much good at spellcasting, but the last thing I needed was an assessment on my abilities.

Orion’s head tilted to one side as he observed me. ‘I never said you were. But we need to make sure you can cast the spell perfectly when the time comes.’

‘Right,’ I said, jaw clenched at his logic. Was there ever a time when he wasn’t so infuriatingly practical and pragmatic. ‘Good thing I’ve been a witch for my entire life. What should we start with?’

It was stupid. I knew it was stupid. I should’ve just said I needed the help, that I wasn’t as confident as I was trying to make myself sound. But that would mean admitting a weakness to Orion, and I couldn’t stand doing that.

He stood and pulled off one of the cookbooks from the shelf. ‘This spell requires calling your soulmate to you. So, let’s go back and practise some basic summoning spells. Like this – cast a spell on this book and get it to move from my hands to yours.’

I tried to calm my nerves. Over the years, I’d had teachers give me all sorts of advice. Breathe in deeply before casting, envision a calming river meandering through your body, think of your magic like honey pouring out of a jar. But my magic has always felt like a buzz of energy under my skin; warmth flooding within me. It never felt controllable or contained. It felt like it was everywhere.

‘Paper and ink, don’t dawdle,’ I began, and my magic erupted beneath my skin like goosebumps. I kept my gaze sharp on the book – trying to focus my magic on it worked for a moment – but then I felt myself drift. I thought I could feel the press of eyes watching me, judging me, and then I couldn’t stop thinking about how all of this could go wrong. My thoughts had slipped so far that I barely heard myself finish the spell. ‘Come to me at full throttle.’

The book in Orion’s hand didn’t shift. But the book behind his head did. Quite violently. The corner of the hardback clipped the dragon shifter on the back of his head before thudding on to the table right in front of me. I launched out of my seat without thinking, reaching for him.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, rubbing the back of his head. His hair was soft, the curls filling the spaces between my fingers.

‘I’m fine,’ Orion said softly, glancing down at me.

It took me a moment to register what I was doing. I dropped my hand like it was burning, and my cheeks were flushed a bright red.

I braced myself, waiting for him to lose it at me – to yell at my total lack of control over my magic.

‘So, at what point did you stop thinking about the spell?’ Orion asked simply, and my gaze lifted from the floor to meet his.

I stared at him, swallowing tightly. ‘How did you know that?’

He looked at me like it was obvious. ‘I saw it in your eyes – one minute you were completely focused, and then you got this faraway look in your eyes. So, what was it that distracted you?’

I was silenced by his easy analysis.