One year and five months ago...

The smells of the stable hit me the moment I entered. My shoulders immediately relaxed. Home. It felt so much like home. I squeezed my eyes closed, pushing away the flames that danced in my memory, instead, remembering it the way it had been before. Before everything had fallen apart. Before everything had gone so horribly wrong.

The stables in the Citadel were magnificent. They housed over a hundred horses across multiple buildings. Jarrow was in Daffodil, because all the stables were named for flowers. It helped that I loved daffodils. They'd grown wild in Jarrow's pasture, their yellow heads blooming every spring.

I made my way through the main aisle, going to gather supplies to tend to the horses. They snickered at my passing. I set to work mucking. It was one of the conditions of keeping my own horse here. As I understood it, no one had insisted on bringing and keeping their own horse to the Citadel when they began training. They were generally given one as needed for their assignments, and all the horses remained property of the Citadel. Still, I was grateful they allowed me to keep Jarrow as mine. So I did my work gladly. Besides, it reminded me of happier memories. It was easy to lose myself. A few wielders and witches came and went, but I hardly noticed. Jarrow's stall was at the far end. I always saved him for last so I could spend extra time with him. It was rare these days, getting out to ride. Rare for us to spend much time together. But bless him, he took his captivity within his stall well. Never once complaining, as long as I brought him an apple or two when I visited.

I set my things down and went to open his gate. "I wouldn't do that." A voice stopped me, my hand frozen over the latch. A voice I'd never heard up close. And yet...I knew. I knew exactly who it belonged to.

It was just as deep and as resonant as I'd hoped it would be.

I turned and there he was. "That horse is half mad. Best to leave him." I blinked. The first words he'd ever spoken to me and this was what he said? I couldn't believe he was standing there, arms crossed over his chest.

Anger bubbled, heating me from the inside. "That horse, is mine," I hissed, utterly insulted. "And he's not mad, he just doesn't like other people. So...save your insults for someone who cares." My jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. It probably wasn't the best thing to say, but after so many failed attempts to strike conversation, only to have Rixon chose to insult my horse, how could I not?

I waited for him to say something back. An apology. Anything. Instead, he just stared at me like he usually did, his face completely void of emotion. He turned on his heel and walked out. All I could do was stare after him, blinking.

***

As we entered the inn yard, a stablehand emerged to take our horses. Rixon was already dismounting and unbuckling his saddle bags, then, much to my surprise, mine.

The stablehand greeted us, his eyes going wide. "Is that...?" His gaze was glued to Jarrow.

I suppressed a delighted grin. "An Akeron. Yes."

"But...but...where did you get him?" he breathed, awed.

I chuckled, impressed that he knew his horses."He's mine." It wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for. Jarrow had always been mine. Mine since the day I'd reached in and helped drag him free of his mother's womb.

The stablehand's eyes were still wide as he grabbed Ferrah's reins. When he tried to reach for Jarrow's, my horse snapped his teeth, attempting to bite him. He yelped in surprise and jumped back. I suppressed a laugh. Behind me, I I heard a quiet snort from Rixon. "He's...a little testy. Doesn't allow anyone but me to handle him," I said. "So you'll have to show us the way."

"I...of course, Lady Witch," he said, breathless.

I glanced over my shoulder at Rixon. "I'll handle our lodgings and food," he said, giving me a long look before striding off into the inn. I gazed after him a beat longer before turning to smile at the stablehand.

"My name's Cob," he said, offering a hesitant grin. He was my age, I realized, or perhaps slightly older. "Follow me," he added, still keeping his eyes on Jarrow.

It was a small stable, but adequate for tonight. I spent longer than necessary tending to Jarrow, making sure he was well and truly settled. I let Cob see to Farrah. Once Jarrow was comfortably shut in a stall, with fresh hay and plenty of clean water, I kissed his nose and began speaking in a soft voice, telling him how proud I was that he'd served me well today.

He'd been so cooped up in the Citadel. For years. Even though I tried to take him through the Citadel's streets. Our excursions out of the city were limited and monitored. Getting our first assignment, leaving to travel through wide open wilderness had done us both some good, demons withstanding.

"I'll see you in the morning," I murmured, not even realizing that I'd spoken in Aavix.

"Where did you learn to speak it?" came Rixon's quiet voice. I squeaked, whirling around. He stood behind me, leaning against the wall, his wounds still leaking, his arms crossed, muscles bulging. He'd been watching me. For how long?

I covered my startled heart with a hand, taking a deep breath. "I...you surprised me." He lowered his head in acknowledgement, then lifted an eyebrow. Quietly, I said, "My father."

He offered a brief nod but said nothing more.

My gaze dropped to his wounds. "I'd like to see to your wounds now."

He grunted, then turned and led me into the inn. It was a breezy evening, cooler than usual for summer, so the inn's shutters were thrown wide, letting in the dying rays of the setting sun. We entered through the back, past a kitchen, and up a set of stairs as Rixon brought me to the third level, lined with doors. He unlocked one and brought me inside, shutting it behind us. I glanced around. A single, large bed, a spacious copper bath, freshly filled with steam rising off the water, a small table, and an unlit fireplace. It was a good room. Comfortable. He'd be fine in here.

My gaze fell on the bags piled in the corner. Both sets of bags. Mine and his. My gaze narrowed. I opened my mouth—

"One room, Lady Witch," he said, almost as if he'd been waiting for this.

"You cannot be serious."

"I do not care that we are safe from demons behind fort walls. You are mine to protect, and I cannot do that if you are off in another room. Demons aren't the only danger in our world." His words struck a chord with me, because I knew it well enough—better than most, perhaps.

"I...I'd only be right next door, and certainly not in any danger here," I sputtered. Never mind that there wasn't even a second bed, or that we certainly wouldn't fit in this one without sleeping close. "I'll go down and get another key from—"

"You will do no such thing." His voice was a quiet command, his expression unyielding. He took a step closer.

Instead of bristling, heat pooled deep in my core. My mind immediately jumped to one thought. "I...I'm not...sleeping with you," I squeaked, no longer caring for the open embarrassment I displayed. And yet, just the thought of sharing a bed left my stomach fluttering. Gods, what was happening to me?

"I did not ask you to," he said, voice calm. "Bed's all yours."

"But...where..." I glanced around. "There's nowhere for you to sleep."

"I'll be fine, Lady Witch. Floor's plenty comfortable. Now...weren't you going to see to my wounds?"

I clenched my jaw, letting out a deep exhale. He was changing the subject on purpose. I looked over his body again, suddenly feeling awful for arguing about something so small when he was bleeding everywhere. When he was injured. My shoulders fell. Already, I was not setting a good example.

"Remove your clothes," I barked, using a firm tone to cover my tangled emotions.

"As you wish," he said. But the way he said it...I spun around to break eye contact, going to the tub and taking the plush green cloth draped over the edge. Dipping it in the water, I sighed at the heat that seeped into my skin. I wanted nothing more than to shed my clothes and sink in. But not until I'd seen Rixon taken care of. Except...we were sharing this room and I'd have to kick him out temporarily to get private bath time.

Gods.

I turned around, only to find him standing before me entirely naked. I gasped, all thought draining from my mind. There were injuries everywhere, cuts, claw marks, bruises already turning purple. And yet, all I could do was drop my eyes to his aroused cock, standing proud. It was...huge. I blinked and yet, couldn't stop looking. And then it dawned on me—what this meant—that he was so hard. He was...aroused? Now? In here? With me?

Tearing my gaze away, I found him wearing an amused expression, one I'd never seen before. The corner of his mouth twitched up. But it was his heated gaze that shortened my breath. His voice rumbled as he said, "Are you going to wash me too, Lady Witch?" The way he said Lady Witch sent shivers through me. I almost dropped the cloth to the floor.

No. This wasn't happening. Absolutely not.

I squeezed my hand into a fist, strangling the life out of the washcloth. Water dripped down my fingers, pattering to the floor. "I need to be able to see the wounds—to know what I'm working with," I managed, keeping my voice steady. He nodded. When I stepped forward, I hesitated, for too long.

He huffed. "Never touched a male before?"

"I...that's not..." I didn't even know what to say. The truth of it was, I hadn't. Not like this. I'd healed them plenty, working in the infirmary with Jana. I'd just never touched one I felt anything for.

Suddenly defensive, I said, "While other witches were sneaking off to the catacombs, some of us were busy learning how to control magic and fight demons."

"Not to mention, reading extensively in the library," he finished for me.

I snapped my mouth closed. "Right. Exactly."

Flustered, irritated, I lifted the wash cloth and began aggressively scrubbing away the blood and gore covering his chest. He didn't even flinch. That alone sent a flood of guilt through me, so I slowed my motions, gentled my hand, and washed him the way I would want to be washed if I were injured and hurting. It took everything to keep my mind in check.

"I scare you, don't I?" His honest question made me falter.

"No..." I whispered, tilting my head to look up at him. "No. You don't."

I removed everything around the set of deep claw marks in his left pectoral. It didn't look like anything poisonous. But when I moved to the opposite side, there was a gash across his collarbone oozing green slime. Steeling my nerves, I leaned forward to smell it—to determine what poison, what demon it came from. As I leaned in towards him, his hand came up to rest at the small of my back, almost pulling me closer. I nearly gasped, momentarily distracted. But...it felt nice there, like he wanted me there. That couldn't possibly be true.

"Trong poison," I decided, quickly stepping away to better clean it. His hand dropped and I immediately missed it.

"I could have told you that."

"Then why didn't you?"

"I like your fussing."

He...what? I blinked, hesitated. Pursing my lips, I pretended his words didn't affect me. But they did. Without thinking, I pulled a tendril of magic. "This might hurt a little," I warned, my voice a whisper.

"Do what you must."

I pulled the poison from the wound, ensured that nothing contaminating remained, then stitched the skin back together. The only sound he made was a small huff, barely even noticeable. I healed the claw marks next, before washing away more gore covering his neck, arms, face. I had to rinse the cloth several times.

Then I moved to his back. Two long slashes. I washed everything and healed them. Admittedly, I took a lot longer than necessary, just so that I could both hide from his face and admire the firmness of his buttocks.

Gods, what was wrong with me?

Returning to his front, I looked down. He was still hard, painfully so. As if responding to the attention of my eyes, the head of his cock bobbed. My throat was suddenly parched. I licked my lips and looked up at him. His eyes dipped straight to my mouth.

Clearing my throat, I said, "And what demon made that?" I indicated the deep gash across his thigh near his groin.

"Akonn."

I nodded. I didn't see any other injuries on his legs. Just the one. Sinking to my knees, I began to clean it. Too late—too late did I realize at this height, his cock was right in my face. As it bobbed, my eyes went straight to it. I swallowed, mortified, looking up at him.

His gaze was fixed on my face, pupils dilated. His chest began to rise and fall with quick bursts. I realized exactly how this looked, exactly what he must be thinking.

"Fuck," he hissed, teeth clenched. He wrenched his gaze away to look at the wall. His throat bobbed, but he said nothing else.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips. He didn't see now, the way I looked at his cock, how close I was to it. Didn't see my hands shaking. Didn't see how red my face had turned. Forcing myself to calm, I returned to the wound. When I finished cleaning it, I healed it.

He was still staring intently at the wall, fists clenched at his sides, like he was forcing himself not to touch me. Did he want to? I almost shook my head. Of course he didn't. Why would he? He barely even talked to me. Had ignored me for two years because he wanted nothing to do with me.

Even still, I couldn't help myself as I ran my poiner finger over the place where the gash had just closed. His hips bucked. "Fuck, Aramina!" he cried, taking an abrupt step backwards. My eyes widened. He'd slipped. Said my name. Not that it was unheard of. We just...weren't at that point yet. And he'd never said it before.

As if realizing what he'd done, he cleared his throat, his expression smoothing into one of indifference. "Are you quite finished, Lady Witch?" Despite his expression, his words were strained, the only sign that I'd unsettled him.

Gods, I'd unsettled myself, too.

"I...I'm finished," I squeaked. Perhaps I should have made slower work of this. That left me feeing both confused and annoyed.

"Good." His gaze darted over to the tub, still full, still steaming. "I'll see you downstairs." He was already striding across the room, retrieving clean clothes, which he threw on before making quick work of reattaching nearly all of his weapons.

I, however, was still on my knees, unable to look away, still too shocked by what had just happened, by all the dirty thoughts that were suddenly racing through my mind. It wasn't until I heard the door shut behind me that I snapped myself out of it, gave a strangled sob of mortification, and got to my feet. Only then did I realize that I was trembling. I'd never felt more betrayed in my life, and it was entirely my own body's doing.

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Hello Friends!

I plan to update this every Sunday and Wednesday evening. I'm on Eastern Standard Time. So that would be Sunday/Wednesday my time. I hope you are enjoying the story so far. This is very different feeling compared to my other work. It's fun to dive into new styles. 

The next chapter will upload this Sunday evening. 

All my best,

Mel