Page 149 of She Who Holds My Wrath

I don’t have the energy to argue about him barking orders at me like a misbehaving dog, so I do as I’m told.

“You’re going to copy me, alright?”

I nod, watching closely as he points to the page and reads the instructions aloud, adding ingredients step by step into the vial. But instead of using the exact measurements the recipe calls for, he adjusts by sight.

“See how it shows this colour,” he explains focused, “and notes that it should smell like almonds? That’s what you’re aiming for. Measurements are not always ideal. Follow them for the primary ingredient, then adjust the second ingredient until the colour and scent are right.”

I glance back at the page and notice the colour of the tonic is slightly darker than the ones I’ve made before. I nod and follow his lead, adding the perfect amount of nightshade, then adding the calming root extract, slowly, until the hue matches perfectly.

I can feel Cassyr watching me, his attention is heavy, but I keep my eyes trained on the vial. When I’m certain the colour matches, I lift it to my nose and smell. I can’t help the smile that lights up my face when the scent of almonds hits me.

“I think I did it!” I squeal excitedly.

Cassyr reaches for the vial in my hand, his fingers brushing mine. The contact is brief, but it feels electric. My breath catches despite myself, and I swear he hesitates for just a moment before taking it from me.

He holds it up, inspecting it in the candlelight, and then sniffs at it. He nods approvingly, a small smile gracing his lips.

“You did it, sparkles.”

I jump up, and without thinking, throw my arms around him in excitement. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you—” He freezes in my hold. The second I realise what I’ve done, panic hits. I pull back immediately. “Shit. Sorry. I got excited. I’m, uh, I’m a hugger. Sorry.”

My face burns as I shove my curls back from my face, suddenly very interested in the stone floor. Cassyr doesn’t speak, so I risk a glance up at him. He’s staring at me, his expression unreadable as those amber eyes gaze intensely into my soul. The only movement is the slow bob of his throat as he swallows.

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, feeling like a small animal trapped under the gaze of a predator.

“Cassyr?” I say softly.

He blinks, then frowns, shaking his head once. He turns away, gathering his things from the desk.

“We’ll finish this tomorrow,” he says gruffly. “Get some rest.”

He reaches the door, then pauses, reaching into his pocket.

“My mother made these,” he says, holding out something wrapped in pale cloth “She made too many, so you may as well have them.”

I take the cloth from him, the contents inside still slightly warm. I inhale instinctively, my mouth watering as the sweet, smoky scent hits me.

He huffs a quiet laugh as my stomach betrays me with an audible growl. “They’re chocolate and ashberry cookies.”

“They smell so good,” I murmur as I inhale the scent again.

“It’s one of my favourite scents.” His gaze drags slowly down me before meeting my eyes again, nostrils flaring. “But marshmallow seems to be slowly climbing the ranks.”

Then he turns and leaves without another word.

I sink onto the bed, the cookies still in my grasp as my heart races. Marshmallow. Daisy always said I smelled like marshmallow. Was he saying I was becoming his favourite scent? Surely not.

Gods help me. Was he… flirting?

I feel better today.

Now that I know I can do the tonic—I just needed a different way of being taught—something has shifted. I feel more confident. Less like some incompetent human whose sole purpose is to mess everything up.

I arrive at the healers’ quarters fresh, awake, and ready to start the day with a new outlook.

“You’re not with me today, human,” the alchemist says flatly, barely sparing me a glance.

“You’re with me,” a deep voice rumbles from behind me.