The Magic Potion First Victim
When Samantha returned to the Alpha’s estate, the night was quiet, the moon hidden behind dark clouds that moved lazily across the sky. She slipped in unnoticed through the servant’s passage, her heart still pounding from the excitement of the night’s encounter.
Her first step was to hide the vial. Clutching it tightly under her robe, she made her way swiftly to her chamber. The room was small but neat—her bed made, the oil lamp flickering softly against the wall. She hurried to the corner where she kept her chest of clothes, pushed aside a folded shawl, and hid the vial beneath a bag of neatly stacked garments.
A sly smile curved her lips. “Tomorrow,” she whispered, touching her chest. “By this time tomorrow, everything will change.”
With that, she straightened her dress, composed her face into a mask of gentle worry, and went toward the kitchen.
Inside, two kitchen maids were stirring soup in a large pot while another arranged trays of fruits and bread. They all looked exhausted but cheerful, speaking in low tones about their Alpha’s sorrowful state.
When Samantha entered, one of them—Tilly—turned with a warm smile. “Ah, Samantha! You’re still awake?”
“Yes,” Samantha replied softly, her tone humble and kind. “I couldn’t sleep knowing our Alpha hasn’t eaten properly again. I was thinking… maybe I should try helping with his meal again tonight.”
The maids exchanged glances, instantly relieved. Tilly beamed. “That would be wonderful! You really did well yesterday. He actually ate a little, didn’t he?”
Samantha lowered her gaze modestly. “A few bites, yes. Perhaps he’ll eat more tonight.”
“Oh, bless you!” another maid said, patting Samantha’s arm gratefully. “If anyone can make him eat again, it’s you.”
Samantha smiled sweetly, though behind her calm eyes gleamed a dark satisfaction. “I’ll do my best.”
After thanking them, she returned to her room, her mind already racing with the plan for the evening. She began undressing to take a bath in the small washroom connected to her chamber. But just as she was about to remove her gown, a sudden knock startled her.
Knock. Knock.
Her hand froze mid-motion.
“Who’s there?” she called, a faint irritation in her voice.
“It’s me, Mina,” came the soft reply.
Samantha relaxed a little. Mina was one of the youngest and most naïve maids in the estate—a girl she rather liked for her simplicity and sweet nature. “Come in,” she said, wrapping her robe back around her.
The door opened, and Mina stepped in shyly, clutching the edge of her apron. “Forgive me, Lady Samantha,” she said, bowing slightly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I only wanted to ask a small favor.”
Samantha smiled gently. “A favor? What kind?”
Blushing, Mina said in a low tone, “It’s about the head maid, Lady Merida. I was hoping you could speak to her on my behalf. I… I want a three-day leave to visit my family.”
Samantha tilted her head curiously. “Three days? That’s quite long. Is everything alright at home?”
Mina hesitated before whispering, “It’s not really my family. My—my boyfriend has fallen sick. I just wish to see him before… before things get worse.”
A knowing smile touched Samantha’s lips. “Ah, love,” she said softly, walking closer. “Such a foolish, sweet thing.” She reached out to pat Mina’s cheek. “Alright, I’ll talk to Merida tomorrow. You’ll have your leave.”
“Truly?” Mina’s eyes brightened with joy. “Oh, thank you, Lady Samantha! Thank you!”
Overcome with gratitude, Mina impulsively hugged Samantha. But as she did slightlystaggeredbackwards, something small slipped from under Samantha’s packed clothing bags and clinked softly onto the floor.
Both froze.
When Mina pulled away, her gaze dropped to the floor—to the small glass vial that now rolled slightly under the candlelight, glowing faintly with a strange crimson shimmer.
“What’s that?” Mina asked, curious, her brows furrowing.
Samantha’s heart leapt, but she quickly stooped to pick it up, forcing a laugh. “Oh, that? Nothing dangerous, dear. Just a little potion of sorts.”
Mina blinked. “Potion?”
“Yes,” Samantha said, smiling mysteriously. “A drink that makes my secret lover fall even more in love with me. I was planning to sneak out tonight to visit him.”
Mina gasped softly. “You have a lover?”
“That’s my secret,” Samantha teased, wagging a finger at her. “And now that you know, you must promise not to tell a soul.”
Mina giggled, lowering her head. “Of course, I won’t say anything!”
“Good girl,” Samantha said smoothly. “Now, I must bathe quickly before my ‘lover’ grows impatient. Run along, Mina. And don’t forget what I said—keep this between us.”
“Yes, Lady Samantha!” Mina said cheerfully, then hurried toward the door.
Samantha watched her go, then sighed with relief once the door closed. She turned the key in the lock and went to the small bathroom to draw water for her bath. As the water sloshed into the basin, she began humming a soft tune, her voice light and carefree.
But outside the door, Mina had paused.
She frowned slightly, remembering the glinting red liquid. A strange thought formed in her mind—reckless, desperate.
“What if…” she whispered to herself, glancing around to make sure no one saw her. “What if I try a little? If it can make Lady Samantha’s lover love her more, then maybe it can help me too. Maybe he’ll stop pushing me away…”
The temptation bloomed, irresistible.
Quietly, she turned the doorknob. The latch clicked softly, and the door opened just enough for her to slip inside. Samantha’s singing echoed faintly from the bathroom; the sound of splashing water masked Mina’s movements.
Holding her breath, Mina tiptoed toward the corner where she had seen Samantha hide the vial. She lifted the folded bag of clothes and there it was—the glass vial glowing faintly under the lamplight.
Her hands trembled slightly as she picked it up. “Just a drop or two,” she whispered. “Nothing more.”
She uncorked it carefully. The smell that wafted out was sweet but strange—like honey mixed with iron and something smoky underneath. She hesitated for a heartbeat… then tilted it toward her lips.
One drop. Two. Three.
The taste was oddly warm, like fire sliding down her throat. For a moment, she smiled, almost giddy. “It’s not bad,” she murmured, replacing the cork and putting the vial back exactly as she found it.
Then she tiptoed out of the room, heart fluttering with excitement and guilt, unaware of what she had just done.
Inside the bathroom, Samantha continued humming, oblivious to the quiet footsteps that had just slipped away from her door—and to the faint crimson glow now pulsing faintly through the vial’s glass as though something inside it had awakened.