Page 139

Chapter 27

It had been three days since Amalia released that strange power into the sky, and she felt much better since. She didn’t realise she hadn’t felt like her usual calm self until that energy was no longer inside of her.

Amalia had managed to convince him to let her rest for the night before he started trying, and succeeding, to get under her skirt.

The first time had led to a long pause afterwards, him checking to see if spending against her stomach prevented her from harnessing dragoncraft from him.

When he was sure that everything was fine, to both of their relief, her life inside of the Dragon’s lair wasn’t what it was like before.

She would spend part of her time entangled with him while he was human, and the rest of the time talking with him while he was scaly and spiky.

Their moments of intimacy were hot and intense, but it was always a bittersweet ending. She could tell he wasn’t happy about spending outside of her body and wasn’t as calm afterwards as he was before. He made no complaint, knowing it couldn’t be any other way.

She often spent time against him while he was a Dragon, whether it be laying against him to talk or to read, and he didn’t seem to mind.

He had many tales of his kind to share, most with a title and having a grand reason for obtaining it.

He’d also taken her to the stream of his cave.

He tried to convince her to swim while he bathed and spoke to her. She refused because she didn’t know how to swim. Apparently, he was planning to rectify this problem in the future, and she wasn’t keen on the idea.

The only reason she followed him there to begin with was because he was telling her, in detail, the tale of how her kind were created.

A thousand years ago when Dragons were the leaders of the land and were things known and very much feared, humans would give sacrifices to them. They believed them to be gods. To appease them, to stop them from hunting them, they would gift them a human to eat.

It was rather gruesome if someone were to ask Amalia. The Dragons knew they weren’t gods but were more than happy to allow humans to believe so in order to obtain an easy meal.

One particularly beautiful sacrifice caught the eye of the male Dragon she was taken to. She willingly offered her life to be ended by his stomach, and he instead bedded her. No one cared that he’d done such a thing, and they hadn’t known that they could breed until she’d fallen pregnant. She didn’t die giving birth whereas most that followed did.

They’d birthed a daughter, and she was the very first human with the ability to use magic. They decided to call them Witches.

When others discovered this, they began to breed with humans over their long life and sired many witchlings before they found their own mates or died. It continued like that for seven hundred years, more and more Witches being born from Dragons. They also bred with each other until there were hundreds of her kind.

Strolguil wasn’t the last to be born from a Dragon, but when he turned on his father and led others to do so as well, their numbers began to dwindle due to being hunted, and they stopped breeding Witches. They didn’t want to add to the chaos they accidentally created.

The tale wasn’t pleasant, and she’d been sitting beside the stream watching him in the water when it ended.

Now though, she sat at the entrance to his cave. She wanted to look at the night sky. Amalia sat between his forelegs with his paws around her to keep her warm as she rested against an arm.

They were speaking about some nonsense, as they often did, until the stars grew bright, and she searched it for what she had truly wanted to see.

“It will be a black moon tomorrow,” she commented, seeing the sliver of light against the blackness.

“Is that noteworthy?”

“I guess your kind do not care for such things, but each phase has meaning to mine. It is the start to the lunar cycle, and the black moon is representative of new life and new beginnings. The ending of one thing to move forward into another.”

He turned his large spiking head up to it, and the light made his scales appear more purple as it reflected against him.

“That sounds like gibberish. The moon is nothing more than the moon. It has no power or control over what we do.”

“I often feel quite lovely when I am bathed under the full moon, thank you very much,” she answered with a snarky tone.

He turned his head down to face her. “You look better in the sun.”

She smiled, unsure if that was intended to be a compliment or not.

“Do your kind truly not feel a pull with such things? I feel like everything gives me life.”