“Ta-da!” She pulled her hand back. “A high-quality sleep tincture. It should lower cortisol levels and frustrated magical energy, boost mood, offer a slight sedative effect, and it’s nutrient dense.”
“I can do a spell over it to make it even more potent, if you’d like,” I mumbled before I started to ramble. “The way you create tinctures is just like a potion. If paired with a spell, it could, like, be an actual potion. Which, you know, is stronger.”
She whipped her head toward me, and the smile that took over her face was breathtaking. “Are you serious? You’d do that for me?”
“Well, yeah.” I reached back and scratched the back of my head. “I’d do anything for you. I’d even reanimate for you, and you know how I feel about that.”
Her shadow broke free of her shirt, and the buttons scattered on the floor with small tinks. She sucked in a stuttered breath as the warm tendril coiled around my arm.
It jerked me forward, and I crashed into her body. I caught my footing and wrapped my other arm around her back to stop her from falling. Her arms flew around my neck, and her shadow slithered back in the mark as we stared at each other with wide eyes.
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry.” Her lip quivered. “I, um, really wanted to hug you. I’ve always wanted to pair with a witch or warlock and turn my salves or tinctures into actual potions, but I’ve never had the chance… and I guess my shadow took things into its own hands.”
“Why would I mind a hug from my potential… future mate? I don’t even care that your shadow helped. In fact, I appreciate the help.” I helped her stand up straight before we parted, and I stared at her chest where the mark was displayed from the shadow tearing her top from coming out so abrasively.
She giggled. “Well, thank you for the hug then.”
Forcing my gaze away from her chest, I waved a hand over it before glancing at her again. The fabric was fixed, but I’d changed the color of her blue tie to pink. My heart dropped as my hand fell. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help. I can try again.”
It would’ve been more impressive had I done it right, but the only magic I seemed to be able to do correctly would be necromancy and my visions… but even my visions didn’t make sense the majority of the time.
Wren shook her head and ran her fingers down the tie with a small smile. “I like it. Thank you, Kian.”
My heart fluttered, and all the negative feelings washed away with her soft voice. “How do you do the spell to make it a potion?” she asked.
Clearing my throat, I focused back on the blue-glowing tincture in the jar. “Enchanting a herbal mixture with magical essence already in it is easy. There’s a universal spell all of us know to make it take that extra power boost to be considered a potion.”
“That’s really cool. I love how connected your kind is to the magic of Kalista.” She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet next to me.
My face flushed with heat as my blood roared in my ears.
Come on, Kian, don’t mess this up.
I sucked in a deep breath and chanted the words of the spell my mother had used a long time ago when she used to make potions. As I cast the spell, my gaze clouded as a vision entered my mind.
Mom hummed a lullaby as she swayed back and forth at the wood stove. She had her brown hair pulled back out of her face as she stirred. Her long dress kept brushing the planks of wood on the floor. The pot held a glowing liquid, and she tossed the last ingredient in before she stopped humming.
“Fates of Kalista, bless this brew. Strengthen the mixture, guide it to mature. Essence embedded within, sanguine.”
I blinked, and the glowing tincture was in front of me, bubbling and glowing a brighter pale blue than it had been.
Wren’s hand brushed my cheek, and she turned me to face her before letting her other hand come up and cup my face in her hands. Her thumbs swiped under my eyes, and I noticed how blurry she was.
“Kian… Why are you crying?” Her voice was thick with concern, and she stepped closer.
“I’m sorry.” I sniffed, squeezing my burning eyes shut. “I had a vision when I was performing the spell.”
“A vision about what?”
“My mother. She used to make potions back when she was alive,” I croaked.
“That’s how you remembered the spell,” she said in a soft tone that made me wrap my arms around her tightly.
My heart ached, and she helped lessen it. I needed her close. Her hands moved through my hair, back and forth in a soothing rhythm.
“My father has been contacting me about coming home, and I’m sure I’m being watched by someone or something. I’m not sure why, but I have a bad feeling about my father. I haven’t had any visions to make me think something was up, but Wren—”
“If you think there’s something wrong, chances are you’re right. Listen to your instincts. We have them for a reason.”
