Chapter 4 Arwyn
ARWYN
Itold myself, over and over, that I deserved any and all punishment Hector deemed worthy for me. So, as his fist drove into my face, and his nails clawed at my neck, ripping skin into ribbons, I allowed it.
I didn’t resist, even though his attack stung, and the warm rush of blood proved he’d really done a number on me. But I refused to fight back—I simply existed in my punishment and enjoyed the very real feeling of his touch once again.
A feeling I’d craved like a starved man.
In my seconds of release, I gave up hold on the dark void. It spat me out, but Hector was clinging to me like a feral cat, so he came with me.
Our bodies cracked against the floor. I took the brunt of the force, the wind driven from my lungs upon impact, making speaking impossible. A brief look around me and I knew I’d returned to my childhood bedroom.
Hector rolled off me. I knew if I had the energy, I would’ve clung to his body just to keep him on me.
“Where… are we?” he spat.
Hector’s voice, Goddess, it was enough to be my ruin.
I didn’t deserve to hear it again, and yet I’d prayed to hear him for over sixty consecutive days.
I longed for him to speak my name—Hell, I would’ve taken a string of curses and hateful announcements compared to the silence of being separated from him.
“My home,” I replied, tongue lathered with blood. My split lip, curtesy of his fist, was already healing. Bahmet was a monster, but the demon also didn’t wish for his vessel to be in disarray.
He kept me tidy and neat, regimented almost.
Hector had attacked me in a second, but now he stood dumbfounded by his surroundings. Clearly, I was no great threat to him. If anything, I didn’t take my eyes off of him, knowing his capabilities. I got up, lifting both hands to my sides to show him I was no risk.
Catching my breath, I watched him pace over to a desk with a small faded-red chair.
Upon it were sun-stained colouring pages, the colours once vibrant now leeched from the years.
As if my skin was my room, I felt every place where Hector graced, drinking in my shocking history and reality, both blended into one.
“You think you can distract me with this… illusion?” Hector shouted. “As if I’ve not been blinded by them before. Liar.”
“I recommend you keep your shouting to a minimum,” I warned, wondering how I could use the demon to soundproof the room. “My father has armed Witch Hunters outside of this room twenty-four hours, seven days a week. This isn’t a safe place for you.”
“No shit.”
Hector’s heart-shaped lip curled upwards, flashing teeth as bright as diamonds.
And as sharp as them, no doubt. He looked to the door, blinked and stormed towards it.
I saw his intention before he acted on it.
As his hands reached out, I moved so fast it was unnatural.
My arms grasped around his small, yet hard, waist. I dragged him back, my hand pressed firm over his mouth.
“You reckless boy!” I hissed into his ear, noticing the strange scent of burning upon his skin. Beneath it was his usual scent, one that I had starved for, like my need for water to live. And yet it was spoiled by something new—something that didn’t belong on him.
Nails pinched into my arm, tearing new marks into otherwise unblemished flesh. He sunk his teeth into my fingers, forcing me to pull back my hand.
“Let go of me.”
My grip tightened as Hector struggled in my arms. “If they know you’re here, they will kill you.”
Hector laughed. It was a short bark, loud and demanding. There was no doubt in my mind that he genuinely was humoured by my warning, as if it held little to no merit. “I would love to see them try. The only person dying today is you.”
“I see those claws of yours are still out, little kitty.”
I should’ve thought before speaking, but alas I was without the full capability of my mind considering Hector was here, with me, once again.
In one swift move he drew his flailing legs behind him, forcing the brunt of his backwards kick into my groin.
I dropped him as pain swelled. My body folded inwards, but that was my next mistake because Hector was ready.
Now free from my hold, he spun to face me and attacked.
One fist cracked into my gut, the other cut upwards into my chin, knocking my head up.
This wasn’t the first time we’d sparred one another. He knew how I moved, intimately. Just as I knew the flow of his body. And yet I didn’t bother stopping him.
I saw stars, and it was brilliant. Freeing. More blood pooled in my mouth, but I also felt the warm wet drip as a stream oozed from my chin, down into the collar of my neck.
“You don’t get to call me that,” Hector seethed, wild eyes wide and pinned to me.
For all it was worth he at least tried to keep quiet as he spoke, but we were playing with fire.
If anything was heard beyond my cage, they would come in, shoot first and ask questions later.
“Actually, you don’t deserve to speak to me. Ever.”
“I’m glad you are back to hating me,” I said, recognising that very emotion rolling off Hector.
He paused, his hesitation evident. “I never stopped hating you, Arwyn Hopkin.”
Hopkin, that name, my truth—of all the things Hector could’ve said to me, that was the most painful of the potential list. “No need for surnames. We know each other better than that. I only want to talk to you.”
“And I’ve only wanted to cause you pain.”
Somehow, I didn’t believe him.
“Put those claws away, Hector. You can hate me as much as you want, but I still need you to listen.”
“And what? You think I would believe a word out of your mouth? I’ve had two months to stew over everything you’ve ever said, ever done,” Hector hissed, fists tight at his sides, chest heaving.
He looked like a thorn amongst the surrounding of my reality, a strange oddity in a room I never expected him to be inside.
And yet, I wouldn’t change this moment for anything.
“But I never knew you, Arwyn, not really. You lied your way into my life, you tricked me and used me, and weakened me to a point I have sworn to never reach again. You see, everything you achieved during the Witch Trials has been forgotten now. I’ve had nearly three months to lean into my hate for you, three months to contemplate everything we did together, and all the ways you spoiled me. ”
“For what it was worth,” I said, finding it incredibly difficult to hold his stare. “I regret it all. You don’t need to believe me, but that is the truth.”
“Well, that’s convenient.” Hector spat, literally a glob of saliva on the floor at my feet.
“Is it? Nothing about this is convenient,” I replied. “I never wanted this.”
“And yet you entered the Witch Trials, used me and came away the victor. I think this is exactly what you wanted. I just so happened to be a little fun along the way. Something to pass your time with.”
Fury rose, white-hot, within me. Hector couldn’t speak for me. No one could. And he was so very wrong.
“Even you don’t believe that,” I said.
Hector took a step towards me, and I found myself naturally taking one back as well.
There was danger in his eyes, warning me of all those vengeful thoughts swirling in his brilliant mind.
“You won the Witch Trials, you hold the greatest power and threat against witch-kind in the palm of your hand. Everything you have wanted, you have achieved.”
“Lies. More of them,” I said, burning up from the inside at the suggestion. “Don’t speak on what you don’t know. Assuming makes an ass out of you and me.”
“So we finally agree. I really do know nothing about you.”
Hector wasn’t wrong, not entirely. Except when it came to my feelings for him. But this wasn’t the moment to tell him that. “I would’ve rather died during that last trial, but you are the one who commanded Bahmet to possess me. Don’t forget that.”
His eyes flared, and I was sure I felt the air of my room kick up in a swirl of power. The loose colouring pages fluttered on my childhood desk, some falling to the floor. And yet no window was open, no natural gust of wind allowed in.
This was magic… this was Hector. His eyes spilled with a bright circle of silver, proving my point.
“You were dying,” Hector announced as if it was a fact I didn’t know. “I—I can see now that my moment of weakness was a mistake. I should have let you die. If I could turn the clocks back, it’s exactly what I would have done.”
More lies.
I swallowed down the bile in my throat. “You need to listen to me.”
“No, I need to kill you.”
“Me, or what you put inside of me?”
Bahmet stirred at the suggestion of him, and it was in that moment that I sensed his fear. It curdled inside of me as if it was my own, but I wasn’t frightened of Hector. In fact, I wanted the brunt of his revenge and punishment, whereas Bahmet viewed this daring man before me like a weapon.
Why?
“Both,” Hector answered, winds picking up until the blonde waves of his hair twisted from his damp forehead.
Going against Bahmet’s desire to get away from Hector, I took a step closer to him.
I’d reached out to Hector to warn him, not give in to my selfish desires to see him again.
Although that was a bonus. “You can do it, and I would let you.” To prove it, I dropped to my knees before him, bowing my head.
“But before you do, you should know what I have to say. Because whether I’m dead or alive, the inevitable will happen and… and you need to be warned.”
Hector’s winds slowed, no longer enforceable as it coiled around me, although still there. “If you are trying to stall me, you’re wasting your time.”
“Hector, I don’t deserve your trust, and I certainly don’t deserve your time. But if I can help you—if I can aid the witches, and prove that my intentions are not in line with my father, then let me. Please.”