“I’m looking for a potion,” I said.
“Yes, I gathered as much since you are perusing my ‘potions’ section,” he snarked. “May I ask, what are your symptoms?”
“Heart palpitations, clammy palms, an infatuation that borders on obsession.”
“I see. Sounds serious.”
“Feels pretty dire to me.”
“And may I ask, are your affections returned?”
Over the past few weeks, Skylar and I had gone from strangers to lovers to Daddy and boy. Objectively speaking, it had been a fast progression, but he’d told me he wanted it at every turn. Surely, my imagination wasn’t so rich as to invent an entire one-sided relationship?
“I think so,” I said at last.
“Well, that is a promising start,” The Owner said.
Skylar enjoyed my company and was thriving under my direction, but I worried it wasn’t enough to keep him from the many allures of Emrallt Valley. All-night raves and gourmet eateries, rooftop bars, theater and concerts–he’d said he liked music. About the only diversion I could offer him here was our annual battle of the bands and our tawdry themed nights at Church. His best friend lived there too, and of course, there was the surly, spoiled prince to contend with. Even if he was an entitled asshole, who was I when compared with royalty?
I’d entertained the idea of joining him in the fae realm (not that he’d asked me, mind you), but my kin were here, my business was here, and my land was here too. I didn’t want to start all over as an outcast in a foreign realm. I supposed that I was just a bit set in my ways.
“So, what seems to be the problem?” The Owner asked, startling me from my mental tangent.
“I need this one to stick,” I said, now knowing how else to characterize it. “A binding enchantment, perhaps?”
“Those typically work better when both parties are consenting,” The Owner said tactfully.
Obviously, I didn’t want to coerce Skylar into staying. I only wanted to open his mind to the possibilities of how sweet our lives could be, a quiet but meaningful existence spent together in the mountains with my shifter clan.
“Do you have anything less potent? A scent I might spray on myself to make me more attractive to my partner?”
“I don’t think attraction is what you are seeking,” The Owner said.
I exhaled a long-suffering sigh, for he was right.
“Though I do have some colognes imported from the elvish territories. They smell like emotional unavailability and money. Very popular right now.”
“No thanks,” I said, stuffing a bucket under the ice machine and pressing the button. I watched it fill in fits and spurts, frowning all the while.
“There is one thing I might prescribe you, Mr. Wolfsbane, to get your lover to stay,” The Owner said once I’d set my buckets aside.
“I’m listening,” I replied, for it seemed he was stalling just to build suspense.
“Patience.”
After the initial letdown of a remedy so common, I nodded at his wisdom. Skylar would grow to love and trust me, and that might be enough to keep him. Or he’d become restless as so many had before him and leave. And there was nothing I could do to speed up the process or sway him to my side. I could merely demonstrate that I was a safe haven, a place where he might want to put down roots and build a home.
“Love can be painful at times,” The Owner said, not unkindly. “But it also heals. Two good hearts deserve one another, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Wolfsbane?”
I nodded and paid him his coin, then traversed the short walk back to the bar, resolved to be patient and wait for my handsome fae to come around.
I was restocking glasses when Skylar made his entrance at Church later that evening. The fading afternoon light blessed his fair skin, tattoos glowing in a prismatic shimmer. My mood brightened. It was hard to be broody in my boy’s presence.
“Hello, Daddy,” he said and planted himself on one of the barstools. Despite all the things we’d not addressed, we had solidified this aspect of our relationship at least—what he needed as my boy and what I could provide. But there wasn’tmuch for me to correct. Beyond making sure he was taking care of himself and spending his money wisely, my boy was perfect.
Tonight, he was wearing very high boots with very short shorts and a silver tank top that played peek-a-boo with his nipples. His long hair was tied up in a high ponytail that accentuated the sharp angles of his face, and if it weren’t for the obvious bulge in his pants, I might mistake him for a woman. Hotter than sin and sweeter than summer rain, Skylar Larkspur was a rare find indeed.
“Hi, baby, did you get everything done that you wanted?” I asked, handing him a lime and mint spritzer with a few cherries to top it off.
