Page 108

Story: The WitchSlayer

Rurik turned and shuddered as he walked towards the alcove Amalia was in while muttering to himself, “Vile woman will not leave me be when she knows I have been in danger.”

He stepped inside and frowned at her expression. She cleared her throat and stood up properly, removing her hand from the bench. She didn’t want to let him know she was upset with what she had just seen.

Perhaps I should not be intimate with him if he has others.She didn’t want to face the wrath of a jealous woman, possibly a Dragon.

His eyes fell to her bruised wrists before sighing.

“I will allow you to make what you need while I speak with Glov. You may choose your seasonings later when I am here to watch. Do not take anything else besides your potion and do not make a different one. I will be able to smell if you do.”

She nodded, and he left the room.

Amalia began to go through everything in the alcove to find all the herbs and spices she needed to make the healing remedy she had once used on him.

It was one of the only ones she knew how to make.

“So here you are,” a feminine voice said from behind, and Amalia jumped.

The female from earlier was standing in the alcove with her arms folded across her exposed chest, leaning against the wall.

Holding the pestle she’d been using to crush her herbs and spices together, it flew to her chest as her heart accelerated. She thought this woman had left, and if she was here with her, then the Dragon didn’t know she was.

The female stepped forward to approach her. “I was surprised when I heard he has been keeping a Witch in his home and letting her walk freely.”

Amalia retreated until her back met the bench.

She began to lift her hair up around her face, looking at it, inspecting her.

“You are rather pretty for a Witch, are you not? I was expecting some frail old hag with the way Glov described you.”

Amalia didn’t respond, unsure of what to say with her this close. She worried that this female might attack her like Glov once had.

Leaning forward, her eyes widened in realisation.

“His scent is all over you.”

Amalia tensed. Was she going to face the possibility of jealousy from this woman?

Her eyes then drifted over her neck and wrists that were showing. She wished the bruises and bite marks would just suddenly fade.

Redness marred her cheeks in embarrassment at being caught.

“It appears my brother has been playing with you.”

Brother?This naked woman, who had been kissing around his face and latching on to him, was his sister?

That’s when her gaze fell to her hair and realised it was dark, but the torches in the room gave it a red tinge in the same way the light made his appear purple. Her eyes were silver like his, but they looked darker.

The woman laughed because she was still frozen against the bench.

“Do not worry, Witch. I trust in my brother’s instincts. He would not let you roam around if you were a danger, and I do not care what he does with you in the meantime.”

“You do not wish to attack me?”

She stepped back to give her space, and Amalia settled – at least a little.

“No. I can sense that you are a white wielder. I cannot scent the lingering smell of darkness on you.” She looked around the room as she spoke with a raised brow. “I am surprised he would let you in here, though.”

Then she shrugged as though she wasn’t bothered.

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