Page 53 of Elora and the Crow

She sighed. “I couldn’t get the healing paste right. I tried, like, seven times, and each time, it went terribly wrong.”

“Hey, the house hasn’t burned down, so it couldn’t have gone that wrong,” he said.

She didn’t reply, and he took her hand with his left. “Sorry, that was a shitty joke.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m just frustrated and angry with myself.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I appreciate you trying.”

“I’m taking the spell to Charissa tomorrow,” Elora said. “I’ll get her to help me make the paste, okay?”

“Only if you want to,” he said.

“I do. It’s the only way to fix your hand,” she said.

“I know a guy who can set the bone and cast it,” he said.

“Is he actually a doctor?” she asked.

“He used to be,” he said.

“I’m healing it,” she said in a firm voice. “But it won’t be until tomorrow, which means you’ll be in pain for another day.”

“It’s fine, little witch,” he said. “It isn’t that bad.”

She made a disbelieving snorting sound that shouldn’t have been adorable but was.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Just after eight. Cece’s gone home, she has to work in the morning, but she made the fresh paste for your back and head. If you feel up to it, I’ll get you to come into the bathroom with me so I can rinse off the old stuff first,” Elora said.

He sat up, swaying a little at the wave of dizziness, and Elora gripped his forearms. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just dizzy,” he said.

“Walk slowly,” she said as he slid out of bed. “I won’t be able to pick you up off the floor if you pass out.”

He grinned as she carefully slid her arm around his hips in a tight grip. “I won’t pass out, little witch.”

Despite his assurance, she wouldn’t let him walk faster than a snail’s pace as they left the guest room and headed to his bedroom. Once they were in the bathroom, he shook his head when she picked up the washcloth.

“I want to shower,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It is,” he said.

“I know you have a thing about showering every day, but -”

“I’m showering, Elora,” he said in a ‘we are not discussing this’ tone.

“Fine.” She scowled at him before brushing past him and turning on the shower.

She stripped off her shirt, and he immediately looked away from her perfect tits. She wore a simple cotton bra, but it had the same effect on him as if she wore a sexy lace push-up bra.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting in the shower with you,” she said. “You’ll need my help.”

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