The Devil Made Me Brew It (The Witches of Wayward Bay)

by Sarah Piper

This kind of magic is something else entirely. Love and friendship and sisterhood, pure and simple. The balm that heals all wounds.

“Ah, fate. Such a cruel mistress, is she not?

“Faith in your abilities is never misplaced. Just because it didn’t work out this time doesn’t mean you don’t have the skill or talent.”

“Too spicy for you, then?” I laugh. “No worries. Not every man is man enough to handle the Devil’s Brew.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, love,” he whispers. “You just have to be real.”

“Being grateful for the outcome doesn’t mean we can’t acknowledge the pain of the experience. That, too, is part of figuring it out. No way around it, I’m afraid.”

“All this time, you haven’t been chasing your throne or your immortality. You’ve been chasing the affection of a man who’s wholly incapable of loving you.”

“The thing of it is, Mushroom… I’ve gone and fallen in love with you anyway. Accidentally, but completely. And I’m not quite sure what to do about it, because when I look into those beautiful blue eyes, I can’t help but think of a day on the near horizon when I’ll no longer be able to, and I can scarcely breathe because of it.”

But an anxious mind has its own kind of dark magic—the undeniable power to poison even the most joyful moments. One minute you’re floating on air, butterflies dancing in your stomach, your heart about ready to burst with the exciting possibilities of it all… and the next, you’re curled up in the fetal position, hyper-focusing on all the ways it can and most likely will go wrong.

“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night? That hurting people is good business?”

Every day is a gift, Violet. Find the joy in this one. Do that every day, one after the other, and your entire life will be filled with beautiful blessings.

I hold up a hand, silencing him. Not with magic. Not with a cup of hot tea to the ballsack, the idea of which delights me to no end. But with my determination. My will. My refusal to back down just because someone else thinks I don’t deserve to be here. That I don’t have a right to take up space. To be loud.

“Cast me away now, and know this: it was still worth the trip. Still worth the sacrifice.”