Page 90 of The Witch and His Crow

I enjoyed every second, praying to Hekate for the waters to wash away my anxieties and thoughts.

The bathing chamber was no different to being in the London underground, except without trains of course. A low domed ceiling weighed down on me from above, and the endlessly tiled floor and walls gave the room the impression of an endless box. At least the being behind the Witch Trials had taste. Clearly this bathing chamber was created for a number of people to use at once. Except right now I was alone, naked as the day I was born, cleaning days of grime, dried blood, and tension from my body.

Arwyn stood vigil at the door, making sure no one would come in. I’d hesitated when I’d left him. It was easier to keep the distance between us minimal. But he respectfully kept his eyes averted, as though he anticipated the thoughts running through my head.

At one point, I went and checked on him, sure I’d heard him speaking to someone in a low voice. I snatched a rough towel, wrapped it around my waist and ran for the door. But by the time I opened it, the corridor beyond was empty beside swirling shadows in the corners.

‘Everything ok?’ Arwyn asked.

I searched for the second person. ‘I thought I heard you talking to someone.’ I laughed it off, but nothing felt humous about my paranoid reaction. ‘Maybe Romy had come back but?—’

Arwyn lifted his hands to either side of him. ‘Just me, sorry to disappoint.’

That was when I felt his eyes trace over my bare, damp chest. Reminding me I was practically naked before him, only a thin layer of material between us. ‘I should get back and finish.’

I almost expected Arwyn to offer his assistance. If he had, I didn’t think I would’ve declined. At least with him, it made thinking about anything else impossible. ‘Yes, Hector. I’ll be waiting for you.’

I’ll be waiting for you.His words acted as a distraction long enough for me to wade back through the bathing chamber and step beneath the spray of warm water again.

My hand cupped water, rubbing them over my arms until the patches of dried blood melted off. A pink puddle spun at my feet, slowly slipping towards the grated plug set into the floor.

It had been two days since Jaz’s attack, two days since I’d betrayed Romy and she’d left.

We’d moved ourselves to the library I’d first found Arwyn in. At least in there, a hearth was always burning and there were places we could sleep. That didn’t stop me from wanting to go back to our room daily, just in case Romy had returned to look for us.

She never did.

My wounds had healed quicker than they would normally, and without the aid of salves or potions. I had a feeling it had everything to do with the old magic I’d opened myself to.

I felt… different after using it. Changed. I couldn’t explain it, nor did I try to for Arwyn. Instead, we spoke of nothing and everything. Favourite books, TV shows, hobbies, anything mundane that took the focus off bloody Trials and demons hidden far beneath us.

Distraction. That was what he was. A way to sink away the hours. Arwyn had an uncanny ability to snatch my attention and refuse room for any intrusive thoughts.

Even now, as my fingers traced water over my skin, it was Arwyn I thought of. I knew he’d be pleased to see the change in my body. My bruises had faded to a simmering green, like algae across the surface of a lake. The cuts had sealed, leaving the skin pink and itching. I’d caught him looking more times than I could count, worry etched into his brow. Whereas Arwyn had relied on more doses of the salve to stave off his demonic suffering, I needed nothing but rest. It seemed my body had plans of its own.

I picked up the bar of soap from the shelf in the wall. It smelled of honey and verbena, making my mouth water and skin shiver with anticipation at finally being clean. Lathering the creamy bar over my chest, my shoulders, down the narrowed dip of my hips and swell of my thighs, though, it was Arwyn my mind went to. I imagined how far he went as a distraction. Instead of my fingers I felt, it was Arwyn’s I imagined. The soft rub of soap was his mouth, his lips, his tongue

‘Hector, are you decent?’

I clutched my length with my spare hand, spinning round to face the entry way of the bathing chamber. If I wasn’t so surprised by his sudden appearance, I might’ve taken note of the slight hardening to my cock. Arwyn stood before me, like theuniverse had plucked him from my thoughts. He had his gaze diverted down, and a hand lifted over his eyes.

‘If you’re asking if I’m still naked, the answer is in the fact the shower is still on.’

‘I just… you came out and I…’ It was endearing, hearing Arwyn stumble over his words.

‘Tongue tied?’ I asked, voice soft as a cat’s purr.

Arwyn chuckled, the sound as deep as red wine with multiple notes and tones. I wondered if he tasted as detailed. ‘Not that I’m counting the minutes, but you’ve left me for all but a couple of minutes. I just wanted to… check on you.’

‘Consider myself checked on,’ I said, water splashing over my skin as gooseflesh erupted over it.

Arwyn continued to stand there, waiting for a dismissal or an invite, I couldn’t tell. ‘Well, okay then.’

‘Okay,’ I repeated, warm water slipping over my parted lips. Arwyn made to turn around and leave, but I found myself calling out with a question. ‘I gather what I heard was you talking to yourself. Are you getting lonely out there, Arwyn?’

It was the same question we asked a lot. Since Jaz and her cronies had died, the castle seemed as quiet as death. More so than before. I continued to hold hope that Romy would return. Hekate knew I’d tried to search for her.

‘You caught me, sorry.’ Arwyn’s apology hit harder every time he said it, which was more often than not now. It was one word I wished to rip out his mouth. ‘I should let you get on. Give me a shout when you’re ready to swap places.’

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