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Story: The WitchSlayer

She could tell he was still quite angry and was trying to hide it from her so he could keep touching her.

“What did she say to you?”

“She heard I was here and wanted to make sure I was safe to you.”

Rurik rolled his eyes. “Does nobody have faith in me? If I, the WitchSlayer, can see that you are harmless, then my opinion should be law about it.”

“She said that she believed you because she has met other White Witches before.”

“Could be true. Even though she is a thorn under my scales, she fights and hunts like me.”

There was a long pause in between their conversation.

“Um.” She cleared her throat, fidgeting slightly. “I had not made the ointment yet and was still covered in marks.”

He froze, understanding what she meant. He brought his other hand to his chin in deep thought. Then he sighed once more before returning back to his task.

“She will not say anything. She is loyal to our family before she is loyal to the Elders.” He nodded, like he was agreeing with himself. “And she would not be so stupid as to anger me by doing so. She would not be afraid to confront me first.”

“You trust her?”

With the way he reacted to her, she expected him to think otherwise.

“Of course, she is my family.”

“You struck her.”

He pointed his finger at her face. “She struck me first.”

She gave him a mocking stare. “You called her terrible names.”

“Because she is terrible.”

“She is rather beautiful.”

With that long black hair with a red tinge to it and tall, shapely body, Amalia imagined most men would fawn over her.

“She is disgustingly vile.” He shuddered. “I once told her that I would claw her face to improve its hideousness, and she attempted to gouge my eye out.”

Amalia’s lips perked into a smile of humour before it faded. She tried to settle the blush that was forming across her face and averted her gaze.

“Do not misinterpret my next question,” she mumbled. “But seeing your sister reminded me that I do not know you very well.” She could tell his head lifted, but she refused to meet his eyes. “If your kind can so easily smell the evidence of, uh, this, should I be worried about potential guests?”

His head lifted more, and she could feel her heart picking up speed. She squirmed beneath him.

“It is not my place to care what you do or who you have in your home, but women are often petty and stupid. I do not wish to be the target of a scornful female when she is nearly four times the size as me and can unleash fire.”

“You are worried that a female will attack you in my home?”

“Yes.” She felt her face growing bright red. “You are rather handsome, in both your human and Dragon form. This is often cause for women to be possessive.”

Amalia winced when she felt teeth sink into her stomach right below her breast. She sharply turned her head to him, wondering why he was biting her.

She noted his eyes were crinkled with humour.

Her brows furrowed as her face became crestfallen. She already felt embarrassed at asking this kind of question, but she truly didn’t want to be blown to ash for a reason as silly as this.

“You are laughing at me.”

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