Page 102 of Happily Ever Witch
“We would have flattened the school, flunked tons of subjects, and been expelled for making out in all the classrooms.” She casually shrugged. “But it would’ve been a blast.”
“You would have avoided me in high school.” At least, she would have tried. “I’m not your type.”
Esmeralda made a show of looking right, then left, then leaning closer to him. “Don’t tell my True Love, because he’s a little possessive,” she stage-whispered, “but you’re kindaexactlymy type, dragon.”
Her playful expression did crazy things to his heart. “You’re kinda exactly my type, witch.”
“I know.” She grinned at him. “And Itotallywould have been voted prom queen, over that other girl. She would have tragically disappeared, right next to that wizard kid. You believe me?”
Trevelyan realized he had never in his whole lifelikedsomeone more than Esmeralda. Spending time with her was hisfavorite pastime. He couldn’t stop his feelings for her. Couldn’t deny them. Couldn’t ignore them. They justwereand nothing could change them. He needed the witch. It was simply a fact.
So what was he going to do about it?
The intensity of his emotions made him feel vulnerable. Why should he be the only one feeling vulnerable? Something would have to be done and only one something came to mind:
Esmeralda needed to need him back.
“I believe you.” He said quietly. “I quite honestly don’t recall what that blonde even looked like. But I know no one couldeverbeat my mate.”
“Damn straight.” She watched him expectantly. “Your turn. Tell me something true, Trev.”
He opened his mouth, but then that hideous blob of random parts she’d created the day before rolled past. It didn’t seem to be sentient, but it lurched around like a drunken tumbleweed. It appeared to be a corkscrew, mixed with a sailboat, mixed with a cabbage.
“You never did explain to me exactly what that…thing… is.”
She cringed a bit and it was adorable. “A rog.” She muttered.
“A rog? What in the frozen-hells is a rog?”
“That is a rog.” She waved a frustrated hand at it. “I have no idea why my magic created it. I have no idea why my magic doesanything. You know that.”
“Your magic is level six. Nothing it does happens by chance.”
“Tell that to the rog.”
Trevelyan stared at the glob of weirdness for a long minute and then his head tilted to one side. “Cabbage.” He whispered. “Part of it is a cabbage.”
“And part of it’s a frigging sailboat.”
“A ship.” He slowly nodded and then pointed to his own chest. “And I’m a king, now.” He looked at Esmeralda’s boots. She was still wearing the damn things, even with her prom dress. She loved them. “Shoes.” He glanced over to the open window, where the hogs were playing outside on the lawn. “A pig with wings.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“Your magic is tuning towards my magic.” He should have realized it before. They were True Loves. Mates. “It’s trying to help me.”
“With a rog and my favorite boots?”
“With the spell.” He met her eyes, feeling slightly dazed. “The spell the Queen of Clubs wants. The ingredients are almost all here. A ship, beloved shoes, three pig feathers, one large cabbage… If a king mixes them together in boiling salt water --and adds the final, impossible piece-- the four tiaras of Wonderland will be united into one all-ruling crown.”
“Do I even want to know what the impossible piece is?”
“Ceiling wax.” He told her without hesitation. “It doesn’t exist.”
“Sealing wax exists. Old time-y people, like in Nottingham, seal envelopes with it. I’m sure we can find it in a craft store. Have you looked online?”
“No.Ceilingwax. With a C.”
Esmeralda looked baffled.
