Page 103 of Rewitched

“It sounds a little too self-aggrandising to call it what it was,” she replied, trying to sit up in her bed before promptly realising that it wasn’t a good idea. Her head throbbed and her arms buckled under her weight.

“Easy, tiger,” he growled softly. “Back on the pillows, please. How are those cuts looking?” He sucked in a breath as he eased the duvet away from one of her legs and saw the cross-stitch of wounds and bruises that had embroidered themselves along almost every inch of her body. He had yet to leave her side since pulling her out of the rubbled remains of the Hecate House atrium. Although they had certainly both taken their fair share of damage, the injuries that he and Bonnie had sustained were nowhere near as bad as Belle’s, having thrown up their protection circles just in time before the place came down. Belle had been too intent on saving Ariadne from the fall to turn her attention to herself.

“Oi, I’m still pretty.” Belle laughed, looking distinctly unpretty in that moment and quite possibly smelling even worse.

“Who told you that?” Rune smirked. They caught eyes, and he swallowed hard before averting his gaze to adjust the duvet again.

“Maybe we could try a bath again,” Belle said. “Wait, I didn’t mean we. As in ‘we try a bath.’ As in ‘we could try a bath, specifically for me.’ As in—”

“I think you have head injuries,” Rune muttered, reaching the back of his hand against her forehead to check her temperature for the millionth time that day.

They had attempted to navigate a bath for Belle two nights ago, during which, after much awkward back and forth, Rune had won the argument that she didn’t have the physical or magical strength to wash her own hair. She’d joked (half joked) that, in that case, he’d have to do it for her. And surprisingly, he’d agreed in a very gentlemanly way. Neither had cared to mention that a spell could have been used. There’d been a lot of magically manifested bubbles involved for dignity purposes, and he’d been surprisingly gentle. For all the front he’d ever put on towards her, for all of the rehearsed lines and sly flirting, the whole thing had actually made him rather shy in the moment.

“In fact, you have everything injuries. You summoned the elements together all at once. You saved us all—your mum, Ariadne, me, Artorius—not to mention the entire coven, who—I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I know you’ll hate the surprise—are currently preparing to throw a celebration in your name for saving Selcouth.”

“That was your doing, not mine.”

“Hardly,” Rune scoffed. “All I did was gather the magic back after Bronwyn and Morena vanished and return it to the rightful owners. I was basically the glorified paperwork guy. You laid the groundwork. And by ‘groundwork,’ I of course mean ‘entirely destroyed the joint.’ ”

Belle frowned. “I still can’t believe those hags got out.”

He stroked her face with a barely-there touch. “We don’t know that for certain. The place was a ruin, the coven are still clearing the chaos. Even if they did make it out, they’d be in a bad way, their cauldron pledge ended once Selcouth banished them. They’re gone,” he said firmly.

Belle accepted it reluctantly and thumbed the fabric of the duvet. “How’s Ariadne doing today?”

“Fully back on her feet, thanks to you, cushioning her fall like that with the transference spell. I assume it’s a given that she’s driving me half mad with questions. I have no idea how you function as flatmates together.”

“Best friends, eh? Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em,” Belle said in a horrible attempt at a New Jersey accent.

“You are insane,” Rune said matter-of-factly while fighting a grin. “Can you manage to get dressed? There’s someone waiting to see you at Lunar. Three guesses who. He has something that you need to see.” Something in his face gave away that he knew exactly what it was.

“If this is that photo album again of his trip to Minorca, I’ll honestly…”

She eased herself out of bed with a little help from Rune, both of his hands delicately placed on her waist to lift her and take the strain off her muscles. Everything ached as she moved, but with the help of a few healing potions, it was starting to feel manageable.

“Eyes off the prize, Dunstan.”

“It’s an instantaneous transformative spell. I won’t see anything,” he said indignantly, rolling his eyes and turning on the spot to face the wall, crossing his arms. It required significantly more effort than usual, but Belle flicked a finger towards her wardrobe to slide out a suitable outfit. She hadn’t told Bonnie or Rune or Artorius that they had all individually ruined the news of Hecate House’s surprise celebration during their bedside visits. Not an endarkenment but a congratulatory gesture. She was just relieved that this time, their summoning letter wasn’t something to descend into a minor life crisis about. No more fear.

The coven, having all been rescued from imminent death, not to mention realising that their entire recent history was based on shameful lies, were altogether rather grateful. Not only to Belle but to Bonnie, too, and to Rune. They’d also granted an immediate pardon and coven apology to Artorius just hours ago, after each member of Selcouth received a co-signed letter from Bonnie and Caspar outlining the full extent of their discoveries.

With another finger flick, Belle freshened herself up and transformed her pyjamas into the celestial-patterned dress that the enchantment had selected. It was a shame that such a pretty piece had to be accessorised with a patchwork of plum-coloured bruises, but at least she wouldn’t have to explain where they’d come from. Everybody knew. Literally everybody. Even Violet, Monica and Jim, although their version of events involved less witch anarchy and more falling down an entire flight of stairs into the tube station.

“That’s a new one for the collection,” Rune said, gesturing to a blooming petal of mauve and purple-blue across her collarbone.

“They really just keep on coming, don’t they?” Belle replied, staring down at it.

Giving her a furtive glance, Rune leaned forwards and planted the softest, most delicate of kisses directly on top of the new bruise. Then, impossibly gently, he held her chin between his forefinger and thumb, the same spot that always held his magic, and kissed her. Belle, folding her fingers around the lapels of his jacket to bring him closer, felt her knees almost buckle, and this time it wasn’t down to her injuries.

“You’re looking better,” he said, still holding her. “Can I get you anything?”

“A coffee, please. Big one,” Belle said, attempting a grin but wincing as the inside of her split cheeks screamed in pain.

“You got it.”

With small, timid steps, unconvinced just yet by the reliability of her own balance, Belle took the short walk to Lunar Books, a journey they were familiar with together now, only this time it was with a closed gap between them, her hand slipping so comfortably into Rune’s that she swore it was the perfect fit. They squinted against the rosy November morning, chilly air biting at their faces beneath the spray of trees that had begun to change now from citrus oranges to richer browns.

“Did Caspar have any luck finding the Selcouth grimoire?” she asked. While she’d been recovering, Rune had been working closely with Caspar and Bonnie, raking through Artorius’s endless reams of research to find remaining answers.