Chapter 10
Non
My other recent blackout had found me waking in uncomfortable circumstances; this time I felt like I was lying on a cloud. It was, in fact, a very comfortable mattress that I lay on, with an equally luxurious duvet thrown across my body.
The sandstone walls that surrounded me told me that I was still at Llwyn Onn and that the last forty-eight hours hadn’t been some terrible mixture of nightmares and dreams.
The room I lay in was completely empty besides the bed I lay on and a large arched window that tapered to a point at the top, much like all the other doors and windows.
With the curtains drawn back, I could see it was pitch-black outside, but how many nights had passed since I blacked out remained a mystery.
Swinging my legs out of bed, I was surprised to find I was not in any pain, but as the duvet slid off, I noticed I was still wearing my blood-caked jeans and t-shirt. Although slightly disgusted, a small part of me was glad no one had changed me while I was unconscious.
Walking on unsteady feet, likely due to all the head trauma I had received recently, I made my way around the end of the bed. My foot caught slightly on something, and I was relieved to see my rucksack had been brought up with me to this room.
Slinging it over my shoulder, I scanned the rest of the room for any indication of a bathroom, but I had no such luck.
I noticed that the wall to the right of the bed was not a wall but one large oak door that looked like it folded in on itself. Light poured in between the cracks in the slats. The steady thump of music coming from the other side made the hinges tremble.
The closer I got, the better I could smell the stench of a familiar illicit substance stinging my nose.
Someone on the other side of this door was clearly having a very good time.
I slid the door back to find a bedroom much like the one I had just woken up in, but unlike the empty shell that was mine, this one was filled with belongings.
An overstuffed clothing rail bursting with vibrant fabrics of all patterns and textures was shoved down the side of the bed against one wall. On the other sat a white dressing table that had various bottles and hair styling tools strewn across it.
Hanging above the bed was a woven tapestry of two people intertwined in a suggestive embrace. The contrast between the dark-haired individual and the other with striking white hair reminded me a lot of the carvings of the Two Crewr I saw when arriving.
The arched window sat on the same wall as mine had. Perched on its sill was the culprit emitting the illicit smell, who hadn’t noticed my entrance, likely due to the booming music.
From the rolled joint between their fingers, they took a deep puff and blew the residual smoke out the open window they sat in front of.
Everything about their demeanour oozed a casual grace.
Long ebony hair cascaded down their shoulders, much like that of Llyr in the door carving. But where his was a blue black, this person’s had a rich mahogany undertone.
With their head tipped back, resting on the stonewall, the flickering candlelight from the chandelier above highlighted how devastatingly beautiful they were. Dark lashes fanned out across sharp cheekbones, their brown skin completely immaculate with no signs of blemishes.
Shit, I had only been at Llwyn Onn five minutes, and I was already getting flustered by a hot and high Wielder. My bets were on Granny having my head on a pike before the week was out.
“Hello?” I shouted, wafting the curling tendrils of smoke that drifted my way.
The source of the music was a mystery, no speakers in sight. Turning the volume down clearly wasn’t possible.
Scaring the shit out of them seemed to be my only option.
Although I expected a surprised reaction, I hadn’t anticipated them falling off the windowsill when I slammed the sliding door shut.
They hit the ground with surprising grace despite the four-foot drop, landing in a predatory crouch. The same couldn’t be said for the metal ashtray that had been resting on their knee, which clattered across the floor, flinging the discarded butts and ash everywhere.
As they stood to their full height, a few inches taller than me, I noticed the black silk shirt they were wearing was unbuttoned, revealing a lean torso with sculpted muscle.
“Done gawking?” they asked with a cocky grin that had my cheeks turning pink.
I snapped my eyes up to meet their own. It came as no surprise that their amber eyes were equally as beautiful as the rest of them.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I did try and get your attention the gentle way, but you were…busy.”
They stepped over the mess on the floor and shook my hand, their skin so soft against the cracked mess that was my own.
“I’m Jazz—nice to meet you. Although we were briefly introduced earlier when you were carried up here unconscious in the arms of a devastatingly handsome Wielder.” My cheeks flushed to a deeper shade of red. “How did you manage to wrangle that one? Big Bad Bronny looked furious.”
Was that their nickname for my grandmother?
A hard knock at the door had both our heads snapping in its direction.
“Ledr Bronwen wishes to enter,” the voice on the other side of the door croaked.
“Shit! Talk of the devil.” Jazz cursed as they started scraping the ashtray and joint remnants under the bed with their foot.
“Are you going to help? It won’t just be my head she serves for dinner if she finds this.
Grab a bottle of perfume and try and cover the smell.
” Grabbing the one that looked the most potent, I began spraying it like a lunatic around the room.
Another knock sounded.
“Give me a minute, your most holiness. Just stepping out of the shower,” Jazz replied. They grabbed the perfume bottle from my hands and the rucksack from my shoulder and threw them on the bed.
Yanking me to their side, they pressed their lips to my ear and whispered, “I wouldn’t recommend Northern Lights if you want to blow some steam off while you’re here. The stink lingers for too long.”
“Noted. By the way, nothing about standing like this looks particularly candid,” I replied as the bedroom door swung open.
A Wielder, I assumed by the purple tunic he wore, identical to Seren’s, entered first. Swiftly followed by my grandmother, who looked as displeased as ever.
“You’re awake,” she said but kept her gaze fixed on the tapestry that hung over the bed. It was only after Jazz nudged my elbow I realised she was addressing me.
“I am?” I asked, because honestly after the last few days, I wasn’t entirely sure if I was conscious or if this was one big fever dream.
“It seems you’ve been getting well acquainted in here.” She said, stepping towards Jazz with raised arms.
I instinctively lurched forward, prepared to fend my grandmother off from hurting Jazz. But I was shoved aside as Jazz pushed past me and pulled my grandmother into a hug.
I was without a doubt dreaming, because there was no way my grandmother was standing in front of me hugging someone. Willingly.
She pulled back and clasped Jazz’s face in her hands, gently despite the signature claw she wore on her index finger.
“It’s good to see you again, my child. You should come visit more often, not just when duty calls.”
Jazz nodded. “Same could be said for you, Bronny. When was the last time you ventured down South purely for pleasure?” And something that looked a lot like guilt passed over Granny’s face before she composed herself and returned to her usual look of mild disdain.
My heart twisted at their friendly, almost carefree, conversation.
I had found some comfort in always assuming my grandmother was a cold bitch with everyone, minus maybe Ail Llew.
Even her interactions with Seren were frosty.
But it seemed like the old hag did have a softer side after all. Just not for me.
Granny cleared her throat, bringing my attention back to the conversation at hand.
“Let’s make this quick as I have guests who will be arriving shortly, and I must be in attendance for their welcome.” I wondered if these mysterious guests would also be welcomed by being locked in the corridor outside her study for hours to then be attacked by my deranged cousin.
Granny dismissed the Wielder at the door, who couldn’t have been much older than sixteen, judging by his lanky build and spot marked skin, with a wave of her hand, “Wait outside, this will only take a minute.” Giving a curt nod, he closed the door behind him.
She let out a long, exasperated breath. “Now where was I? Ah, yes.” She placed her hand with the claw tipped finger on Jazz’s shoulder, “This is Jazz Khatib, Wielder of the Southern Coven, vassal of Gwydion.” Granny winked.
“Their mother is Ledr Emna Khatib, who currently leads the Southern Coven. Her mother, Jazz’s Grandmother, Ledr Faiza Khatib led the Coven for nearly thirty years prior to her daughter.
Jazz comes from an exceptionally talented family of Wielders. ”
Apart from the mention of another Coven and the Khatib family, I understood practically nothing of what my grandmother meant when she spoke about Ledrs and vassals.
“Jazz uses they/them pronouns and is non-binary. You are to respect Jazz’s pronouns. They will be able to inform you of any adjustments that can be made so the experience of being bedfellows is cordial.”
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
Jazz beamed at my grandmother, and she returned the sentiment with eyes that gleamed with pure admiration. I swore I could hear my heart cracking open.
Gods, did she treat everyone like the grandchild she never had?
She turned on her heel, black cape swishing as she strode for the door before stopping with her hand on the doorknob.
“Oh, one more thing. I’ve arranged for Rhun to come measure Non tomorrow.
He’ll be waiting in the west hall the hour before breakfast—do me a favour and make sure she gets there in one piece. ”
I let out a humourless laugh. “Do you really think I’m so incompetent that I need a babysitter to escort me?”
Granny arched a brow. “Yes, actually I do, this afternoon being a prime example.”
“Is she okay? Seren, I mean, did—” I sounded more concerned than I intended.
“She’s fine. Quick intervention, although a little handsy if you ask me, meant whatever power you used reverted the moment you were unconscious. She returned unharmed.”
A traitorous part of me felt relieved at that.
“What did my power do, exactly? Whenever I’ve felt like that before, no one has ever…” I chose my words carefully, “disappeared.”
“Precisely how many times have you felt like that before? Because earlier on today, you acted like you were none the wiser,” Granny ground out.
“Uh...I mean—” I spluttered, glancing between Jazz and Granny. Unsure if I should divulge all this information despite my grandmother’s fondness for Jazz.
“Maybe now isn’t the time for a family therapy session?” Jazz said, cutting across. “You have three Covens worth of Wielders to greet, Ledr Bron, and Non smells so bad my nostrils are weeping. Maybe it’s time to call it a night?”
Granny nodded in agreement, “This conversation can be continued tomorrow. Be at my private dining room at six.”
“That’s six pm, right?”
“You should be so lucky,” Jazz said, patting my shoulder as my grandmother slammed the door. “What the fuck is a bedfellow, by the way?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Jazz ushered me through an arched opening to the left of the bedroom door. A porcelain claw foot bath sat in the middle of the room which was bigger than our two bedrooms combined and covered in tiles of dark slate.
“Shower is behind that partition along with the toilet and sink.” Jazz nodded to the frosted glass wall on the far side of the room.
“Everything you’ll need is in the cupboards.
” They opened oak doors to reveal shelves stuffed with soaps, oils, and a million different kinds of bath salts.
The smell was absolutely divine, and my eyes fluttered closed as I took a deep breath of lavender and sage.
“One thing us Witches do well is a good bath,” Jazz said with a wink.
Their flippant use of the word had me reeling back, but Jazz paid me no mind as they pushed past me, fussing over the single set of towels and dressing gown.
“We can share, I’m not precious about—” With a snap of Jazz’s fingers, an identical set of towels fell into their open palm.
“Nice! Fancy conjuring up another one of those Northern Lights you had earlier?”
Jazz threw their head back with a roar of laughter.
“Separation not conjuring. Unfortunately, that was the last of my supply. Get yourself cleaned up, sweet Non, you’ve got a lot to catch up on.
” They moved to the doorway. “If you’re looking to relax, I would recommend Passionflower, orange jar, third shelf. ”