The moment we walk inside the room and Elijah closes the door behind us, I seize the opportunity and kiss him. He lets me, sighing against my lips and allowing me to take whatever I want. My hands slide under his shirt, tracing the firm muscles of his chest as our kiss deepens, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us. The taste of him, the heat radiating from his skin, it all makes my heart race and my body feel like it’s floating.
But then, without warning, he pulls away, his strong hands gripping my shoulders as he pushes me to arm’s length. “Hailey, no. You need to stop,” he says, breathless, his eyes dark and conflicted. “It’s the potion messing with you.”
I stare at him, my mind struggling to process his words through the haze of desire. The potion? I blink, trying to cle
