Page 111 of The Witch and His Crow

‘You have always been rightfully mine,’ Salem whispered, ‘remember what you owe?—’

My anger was a siren song. I was blinded with it. I didn’t even care for the pain in my shoulder, or the disgusting stench of Salem’s rotten breath. He was so close I could’ve snapped my teeth into his skin and torn his flesh free. ‘You’re fucking delusional.’

‘Am I?’ Salem said, eyes flickering between mine and my mouth. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

Then he struck forwards, with little effort, and dragged his rough tongue across my mouth.

Saliva coated my face, from my chin to my nose. I felt the slimy presence of Salem’s tongue even after I pushed myself back, eyes pinched closed, the floor jarring my spine as I fell to it. Beyond the darkness, Salem was laughing. The noise was feral and loud, all demanding, as I scrubbed my mouth with my sleeve, longing to remove him from me.

My mother had been the last person to kiss me. I’d vowed never to never kiss another. And then Salem had come and stolen that one thing from me. It was a violation, but more soit was like he’d been the person to clear the last part of my mother’s memory with one swipe of his greedy tongue.

Silence came so suddenly, I opened my eyes, fearful that Salem would be on me again, taking more from me. But the truth of it was far darker.

‘I did warn you,’ Arwyn said, calm as a sea after a storm.

But the true storm had only just begun. Arwyn smashed a fist into Salem’s face, shattering bone. Before my defiler could fight back, Arwyn forced his fingers into Salem’s mouth and drew out his tongue. Swiftly, he lifted the blood-slick athame up and severed the pink muscle with ease.

I couldn’t do anything but watch. Arwyn was silent, but his actions spoke a million words. The brutality of it should’ve scared me, but the effect it had on me was the complete opposite. It made me crave him more than I could say.

Arwyn was claiming me. Protecting me, just as Caym had.

He was ridding the demons from my life, without making me feel like I owed him anything. And yet I would’ve given it all to him. I knew that now.

Salem released a scream so deranged it cracked in his throat. But that sound didn’t last as Arwyn forced the severed tongue back into Salem’s mouth. Arwynfucking fed it to him. Then Arwyn clamped Salem’s mouth closed with one large hand and held it firm.

Salem was choking. Convulsing. The whites of his eyes bulged, the skin I could see around his blood-coated mouth had turned blue. It could’ve taken seconds to end, but it felt like hours. All the while, I scrubbed at my mouth, pleading for the Salem’s taste to leave me. But long after he died in Arwyn’s arms, long after he dropped to the floor like a sack of shit, I couldn’t rid the taste of him from me.

Salem—the Hunter—Tomin’s champion, wasdead.

‘I’ve got you, I’m here.’ Arwyn was before me in a blink, kneeling on the ground, steady hands checking me over. I winced as he brushed my limp, hanging arm. But the pain hardly registered as I continued to rub at my mouth. No doubt the skin was red and raw, my lips cracked from the constant scouring.

‘I can’t—get him off—me.’

Arwyn, no matter how he tried to calm me, couldn’t. I looked beyond him, to the heap of Salem’s body, his all-seeing eye fixed where I sat. Even in death, he looked like he was smiling at me, taunting me.

‘He took something sacred from you,’ Arwyn spoke my feelings of turmoil aloud. ‘But his actions cannot rid the memory of your mother. You will not give him that power.’

On and on I polished and cleaned my mouth, and yet all I could taste was the vile rot of Salem’s spit. It worried my skin, inked over my mouth like tar that wouldn’t budge. Nothing could save me. Nothing had the power to rid the evil from me.

I felt dirty. Violated. Not even fire could burn away the sin left on my mouth.

Except I was wrong. Because my greatest sin could.

‘Take it away,’ I gasped, fixing my stare on Arwyn’s bright, helpless eyes. ‘Please. I choose you. Help me.’

Arwyn didn’t need to be told twice. Nor did he request more explicit instruction as to what I wanted. There was only one thing that would take Salem’s defilement away, and that was the blessing of Arwyn’s mouth on mine. This was more than the want of a distraction.

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ Arwyn asked, red sky billowing behind him, the maze groaning as it shifted once again, making new pathways.

‘Kiss me.’ My shout was desperate and pleading. ‘Kiss me, Arwyn.’

That was it. Arwyn stabbed the athame into the ground beside me, then took both his free hands and cupped my jaw. One after the other, his thumb brushed my top lip and then my lower lip. Even that alone was enough to wear through the remnants of Salem. And yet I still wanted more.

‘I’m undeserving of you,’ Arwyn said as he lowered his mouth to mine.

‘I’ll determine that,’ I said softly.

‘Yes,’ Arwyn said, just before his lips brushed against mine. ‘You will.’

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