"You're not listening to me, Lena!"
The next thing I noticed was something soft thwacking against the back of my head. I eyed the offending object on the ground, realising it was the frilly decorative cushion I picked out for the Ball next week. My eyes snapped to Lucy in annoyance.
I was listening to her, or at least pretending to.
After the first ten minutes of her ragging on me about the Curse, it got simply too tiring for me to pay attention. So I focused on the task at hand, sourcing props and decor for the Dark Masquerade Ball.
The past few days had been a blur of deciding on finishing touches with Magnus. Although we met every single day (not within the vicinity of a bedroom), we'd thrown ourselves deep into work, instead of each other.
Absolutely commendable on both our ends.
Magnus kept his distance at all times and treated me like a walking plague, which didn't feel that flattering, really. I had to remind myself it was for the best and that November first was coming soon enough.
When it finally does, all bets will be off—along with our clothes too, hopefully.
Today was the first time I was able to meet Lucy since the kidnapping. I managed to coerce her to tag along on my decor shopping with the promise of a lavish dinner as a thank you for saving my life. However, I wondered if she was beginning to regret saving me at all, considering she just tried to kill me with a cushion.
"Very mature!" I pouted at her. "What is your problem?"
Lucy's jaw fell ajar. "My problem? What is your problem?"
Just to spite her even more, I ignored her question and glided to the corner of the antique store to inspect a vintage room divider. Shockingly, I was able to avoid another pillow lopped towards my head.
"Be careful with that! We'll be putting them on the settee in the courtyard," I scolded her.
She groaned in frustration. "Lena, you're seriously thinking of throwing your powers away for Alpha Magnus?"
"Lucy," I pleaded with emotion. "This is my choice. And I'm not only doing it solely because of Magnus, but because I really think it's the right thing to do," I emphasised, hoping she'd accept my reasoning once and for all.
She bit her lip as her eyes shifted heavenward. "I can't believe this."
"Well, you better start getting used to the idea. Because come next week, your dear sister will be entirely mortal," I retorted.
Silence fell between us as we engaged in a staring contest. Far off at the counter, the owner of the antique store (a mature lady who reminded me a bit of Rosemary if you traded the high fashion for up-cycled clothing) examined us with wild interest, her thick framed glasses perched dangerously on the tip of her bulbous nose.
Finally, as I expected she would, Lucy threw her arms up in the air in defeat.
"Fine, whatever, Lena. I'll support you no matter what," she said, although a little harshly. "There's absolutely no stopping you when you've got your mind set on something anyway. I—of all people—should know that."
I smiled at her haughty expression. "Thank you," I uttered.
"But just so you know, I'm unhappy about it," she said blandly.
I sighed out of exhaustion and retorted, "Thanks. Really needed the clarification."
A second ticked by and Lucy nodded to the large window overlooking the street outside.
YOU ARE READING
BEWITCHED & BOTHERED
Paranormal☆ 2022 WATTYS SHORTLIST ☆ Leonora 'Lena' Winterhaven is a witch on a dry spell. Somehow, she is the only one left in her coven (and possibly all of New York!) to still have her virtue intact at the age of twenty-nine. This would be fine and dandy, i...
