Page 77 of The Witch and His Crow

What kind of question was that? ‘Not at all.’

‘Good.’ That was about as much of a warning as I got before his flames retreated. The heavy blanket of shadow enveloped me, giving the impression of a world falling from view. Removing a sense made the others stronger. And here, I was acutely aware of the ground beneath my feet and the pressure of moisture in the air against my skin.

‘How about now?’ Arwyn’s voice came out of nowhere, yet filled the mausoleum as though only he mattered. It made placing him in the dark impossible.

‘No,’ I said, although my voice hitched in up in pitch.

Arwyn shuffled closer, evident only from the brush of air against my face. I blinked rapidly, wishing to make out some shapes in the dark. But it was impossible. He felt close yet far, unreachable, and still I dared move my arms to test that theory.

‘Are you certain?’

‘Yes’ I stumbled back a step as his voice was suddenly inches before me. Part of me longed to rear my head back and smash it forwards into his nose again. But what I wanted compared to what my body would do were two complete opposite things. ‘Why? Are you trying to frighten me? Is that the game you’re playing?’

‘Who knows what game I’m playing anymore, Hector.’

My back pressed into stone ledge of the vault, preventing me from going anywhere else. Finally, my arms obeyed me and rose, hands held out. They pressed into the hard warmth of a body. Arwyn was leaning into me, the weight of his torso impossible to fight against. Did I want to fight against it? The answer was not as simple as yes or no.

‘I’m here to find answers, not play games with you,’ I whispered, not wanting to ruin the stillness of the moment.

‘Do you remember, back in the stable, what you asked I do?’

I couldn’t see Arwyn’s arms but, by Hekate, I felt them on either side of my body. He placed them on the top of the vault, leaning into them, keeping his body over mine. My hands were trapped between us, keeping our torsos from touching.

My heart dropped, knowing exactly what Arwyn was referring to. ‘I had a lot of mead to drink. Hell knows what we spoke about.’

Arwyn leaned in closer. ‘Don’t pretend with me.’

Inhaling, all I could smell was him. Notes of bergamot and cedar-wood, powerful enough to bury the age of the mausoleum. This man didn’t only look like a god, but he smelled like a candlethat would cost a minimum of fifty pounds. Romy was right—he truly was luxurious.

‘I’m not.’

‘Then I gather you no longer care for the answer?’

I could lie. Continue pretending that I didn’t care what he did instead of making love. I was confident that my imagination had already filled in the blanks. But there was an allure to hearing him say the words. It felt as though I was back in Oxford, in some dark club, pressed against the man who’d be taking me home for the night.

‘What are you doing, Arwyn?’

I closed my eyes, picturing his mouth close to mine, the image crystal clear in my mind. I longed to cringe at the thought, but it made me lean into him more.

‘I do love hearing you say my name.’ Arwyn’s whisper came directly next to my ear. His cool breath danced across my skin, making me tilt my head to the side, as though I was exposing my neck to some famished vampire.

‘Answer my question,’ I said, nerves bubbling in my chest.

‘I think I’ll disappoint you with my answer.’

What followed was the shifting of stone behind me. A hiss of stale, ancient air as the lid of the vault slid open beneath our joined weights. It became clear what Arwyn’s answer was. This whole performative display was simply freeing his hands from the fire, to push open the fucking lid of the coffin.

I could’ve melted into a pathetic puddle of pathetic flesh and pathetic blood.

Arwyn drew back and conjured his ball of flame once again. I winced against the blue-light, wondering if it deepened the shadows of disappointment on my face. He was regarding me with a smug smile, which faltered when my eyes sang with silver.

‘Don’t do that again,’ I warned.

‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ Arwyn asked softly, amused by the entire charade. ‘Or don’t want?’

‘Fuck around and find out,’ I snapped, turning back to the now open vault. He was so distracting. No, Arwyn was something more. He wasdisarming. I didn’t even contemplate the chance of a corpse being behind us when my mind was full of him, my clothes imprinted with his scent.

What waited beneath the stone lid was far from a dead body. ‘Stairs?’ I said aloud, questioning the universe more than anyone else.

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