Page 44 of The Witch and His Crow

‘You just let me know when you’ve had enough,’ Arwyn said after spitting blood onto the flagstones at his feet.

I cracked my neck, feeling the ache in almost every muscle. ‘Why? Are you getting tired?’

Arwyn bounced from foot to foot. ‘Not at all. Just worried about you, that’s it.’

It wasn’t meant to be taken as a compliment, but a way of degrading my skill. I pretended it was the first, though, using it as yet another bit of sarcasm.

‘How much of your mind do I occupy?’ I asked.

‘Enough.’ Arwyn’s reply was meant to be short. And it had the impact he was hoping for.

I was almost sure that I heard Romy giggle—although I hadn’t had a second to look at her since Arwyn and I had begun fighting. Every bit of my of focus was on him and guessing his next move, then predicting the moves that would follow after. Not even the growing crowd around the courtyard interested me. There were too many distractions, but for the first time none of them outweighed the person before me.

Arwyn captured my entire mind.

‘Don’t worry, Arwyn.’ I bent my knees, readying myself to jump back into the fray. ‘It will be over soon.’

A flash of concern passed over his bright eyes before they narrowed in concentration. Then I attacked. It took me three steps to reach him. I flashed my fists towards his face, but he dodged. Although that was what I was expecting. I was a spider, weaving a web around him, just for Arwyn to get himself tangled up in pre-empting my next attack.

Spoiler alert, he didn’t succeed.

It so easy fighting him, like this dance was familiar to me, his moves predictable. Too focused on what my fists were doing, Arwyn didn’t account for hard smash of my foot into his shin. He doubled over just as I drove my forehead into his already shattered nose.

The howl he expelled rivalled that of a wolf ensnared in a trap, desperate and pleading. It warmed me all the way through.

‘I think we’re done here,’ I said, breathless and high on adrenaline.

I steadied my breathing as much as I could, whilst jolting out the way of Arwyn’s blind reach towards me. His fingers grasped my shirt but I managed to get free. There was no doubt Arwyn was good at fighting.—whatever training he had outweighedmine. But the one thing about his fighting style was he didn’t rely on his Gift. In fact, since sparring with me, he hadn’t used it.

Until now.

I stepped backwards, directly into the wall of conjured cobalt flame that sprung from thin air. Before scalding myself, I fell forwards, directly into Arwyn’s waiting grasp.

He spun me around so quickly that the word blurred. Then he stopped when my back was pressed to his chest, one strong arm anchored around my front, keeping me in place. I felt every dramatic inhale and exhale, even his heart thundering through him, the beat working itself into my back until I felt him echo within the confines of my body.

I tried to slip free, but Arwyn’s spare hand was held before my face. Far enough away that the leaking flames didn’t touch me, but close enough that with one wrong move, I’d find my skin melting off.

‘You’re right,’ Arwyn growled, his mouth close to my ear. I was glad I still wore my t-shirt, otherwise he would’ve watched my skin ripple in gooseflesh. However, Arwyndefinitelynoticed how my body stiffened. ‘Wearedone.’

‘Not quite,’ I forced out as I wrapped my Gift around us both and thrust backwards. Without the use of my hands, my focus was not as specific. It was a risk, but one that worked. Our bodies were knocked backwards, the force so great it hurt me too. But it was Arwyn’s bare back that slammed into the stone wall of the courtyard.

His hold on me relaxed enough for me to pull free. This time, Arwyn didn’t have the energy to reach for me again. Gone were his strange flames as he slumped onto the ground, legs extended, and head bent down like some forgotten doll.

The courtyard was taut with silence. No one spoke, waiting for signs of life most likely. Which came a moment later asArwyn lifted his eyes to me, freezing me in place. The hate was palpable. In fact, it was like looking into a stranger’s eyes.

They were darker, likely clouded by thoughts of the pain and suffering he wished to inflict on me. I waited for him to move, to even say something. But he just sat upon the floor, staring at me, lip twitching.

I couldn’t place the emotion that had me stepping closer to offer a hand. Was it guilt? Or fear that if I didn’t extend a white flag, Arwyn would use the next opportunity to kill me?

‘If it soothes your pride, you’ve lasted longer than most I go up against,’ I said, aware that a bruise likely blossomed on my back. Poor Romy would have her work cut out with healing me.

Arwyn’s gaze flicked between my hand and my face. I almost pulled back, but then he reached out and clasped his fingers around mine. The grip was iron clad. It made the bones in my hand scream. I didn’t dare to show it, steeling my expression, but one wrong move and I had no doubt my hand would shatter. Or burn, depending on if he conjured his fire again.

He used my leverage to stand. Arwyn didn’t speak until he was towering above me. He stumbled forward slightly, lip curling, and sucked a sharp breath in through his mouth. I could read the pain all over his face. It was etched into almost every line, freckle, and old scar. I felt his hand relax, so I tried to pull back. But then he clasped harder, drawing me sharply into him. I smelt the copper of blood mixed with the blend of sandalwood and sage that imbued his skin.

‘I’m not your enemy.’ His words were meant for me and me alone. They were a rasped whisper, his lips inches from my ear. So close, I felt the brush of them against my damp skin. ‘But someone amongst this little flock is.’

I side-eyed, almost breathless at how close his eyes were to mine. ‘Seems like an obvious observation since you helped last night with a few of them.’

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