Page 42 of The Witch and His Crow

‘Who knows. She certainly is Jonathan’s favourite.’

‘Now we’re just fishing in the dark,’ I said. ‘Speculation leads to failure.’

‘No, Hector, it actually leads to caution, which we both need. The Witch Hunter could be anyone.’

‘Any other thoughts?’ I wondered if Romy would say Arwyn’s name, but she didn’t.

‘Jaz was one of two witches with similar powers, but Arwyn dealt with the other last night. There are witches here from elite families who’ve trained for this. We can imagine that if the acting Grand High is in Tomin Hopkin’s pocket, that isn’t stopping other influential witches from also working with him.’

‘But why?’ I asked, unable to grasp how we could want to work with the people who hunt us for sport.

‘Power and influence,’ Romy said. ‘Hopkin ensures the witch is the Grand High, whilst keeping them on a leash. It is a win-win for both parties.’

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what a Witch Hunter would want with our greatest source of power. Their goal had always been to eradicate magic, blaming it on demonic powers, and yet here their leader was, trying to get it all for himself.

‘I gathered as much.’ I had yet to tell Romy about what had happened last night after I left the library. Arwyn had filled so much of my mind, as had trying to find Romy, that my run in with Jaz hadn’t seemed important until now. ‘So we just killeveryone we don’t trust, or do we give them a chance to explain? Because I’m good with either option.’

‘I’m starting to figure out how your mind works,’ Romy added, side eyeing me. If her sharp brow didn’t raise into her hairline, I would’ve believed she was judging me. ‘Fight or flight are two normal reactions for anormalpeople. Except, you seem to only know one.’

‘Yes,’ I added, deadpan. ‘Survive.’

A bustle of noise caught my attention, as it did Romy’s. It came from ahead of us, the sound of dull thuds and grunting echoing across stone.

‘Either someone didn’t hear the bell toll and still thinks the Culling is in full swing, or’

‘Or someone is getting fucked,’ I finished.

‘Lucky them.’ A wicked smile crept across Romy’s mouth. Her arm hooked in mine a second before I was dragged in the direction of the noise. It was strange, to feel the touch of another so flippantly. I wasn’t complaining—obviously Romy wasn’t my type and I hardly imagined I was hers either. But the closeness, the—dare I admit it—friendship was rather comforting.

We reached the end of the corridor to find another doorway which led out toanothercorridor. The difference was this one stretched around a square courtyard in the centre. It was exposed to the outside. The only cover offered was from the leaning maple tree at the side of the courtyard. It coated the stone floor in red leaves, concealing the reaching roots that speared through the ground like petrified serpents.

Beside the tranquil beauty of the courtyard, it was who was in the centre of it that snatched all my focus.

‘I …holy hell take my soul,’ Romy muttered from beside me, tugging me closer.

I didn’t voice it aloud, but I shared a similar sentiment. Except mine was slightly more explicit in more ways than one.

ArwynfuckingMorgan. Topless, for all the world to see. And by all, I mean the small crowd standing around the courtyard, clearly entranced by the same scene as we were. In the centre, circling one another, Arwyn sparred with another man. One I didn’t recognise, nor did I pay him too much care. It was the other that I couldn’t take my eyes off.

Topless, his sculptured chest and stomach rippling as he tensed, was Arwyn. Of fuckingcourseit was. His trousers practically hung off his hips, dropping low enough to see a hint of boxer shorts above a perfectly sculpted V-shaped lines of muscles. They seemed to point down, like an arrow, practically screaming at me to look. His shoulders were certainly broader than his waist, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t completely stacked with muscles in every place I could see.

‘Do you think fighting without your clothes makes you better?’ Romy whispered into my ear, her tone humorous. I didn’t need to look at her to know she was grinning from ear to ear. She was likely entertained with my stunned silence and parted mouth. ‘Or do you think it’s to distract his opponent. Because consider me…distracted.’

Talking of his opponent, they sprang forwards like a cat before completely disappearing. I waited for the witch to reappear, but he didn’t. That was because he never actually went anywhere. The shifting leaves across the courtyard was proof of that. Arwyn noticed the detail at the same time I did.

His opponent was invisible.

Arwyn lifted his hands up which flashed with violent blue fire. It wasn’t to harm the other witch, but to blind him. A heavy thud followed by a groan confirmed he was successful. Arwyn reached down, hands no longer flaming, and grasped seemingly thin air. But where his hand touched, skin materialised.

‘Are you done yet?’ Arwyn growled at the witch he lifted off the floor. His raspy voice made my skin shiver. ‘Or do you want more?’

‘I want more,’ Romy answered the question that wasn’t even for her, ‘and I don’t even like men.’

‘Don’t be blinded by his ego, Romy,’ I replied. Arwyn must have heard me. Which was strange, because there was so much noise and his focus had been razor sharp until I spoke. Arwyn turned his attention from the witch, to me. Our gazes met across the courtyard so suddenly that the air was practically knocked from my lungs.

Our connection only broke when his opponent took advantage of Arwyn’s distraction and slammed his skull into Arwyn’s nose. Bone shattered and blood sprayed. I winced, almost feeling guilty for Arwyn’s own lack of focus. He stumbled back, dropping the witch, who turned completely invisible again. To Arwyn’s credit, he tried to right himself, but the damage was done. And he was fuckingpissedabout it.

His perfectly formed lips curled over perfectly straight teeth. Teeth which I guessed were also perfectly white when not coated in blood.

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