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Story: The WitchSlayer

“Where are we?”

The path to this place had been through a large forest with a thick density of trees. It was as though it intended to be secluded and hidden, and they hadn’t passed a single house or other building along the way. It wasn’t comforting that she couldn’t scream for help if she needed to or run to someone close by.

“This is a place I acquired many years ago in preparation for this night. I did have another one near your cottage as well.”

Her face paled when he placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her towards the large, brown painted double-doors.

“How did you know I lived in a cottage?”

He gave a dark chuckle. “I have been your Bala for many years, my sweet.”

She didn’t know how it was possible, but she felt her face whiten further.I was spied on?She had undressed in front of him, had bathed in front of him!

She covered her chest with her arms.

“Did you kill him to gain entrance into my home?” she asked when he placed his hand on the brass knob of the door and twisted it.

“I killed that cat many years ago before you met him. I needed his skin so I could morph into him.” He said it as if it was meant to comfort her, but it did the opposite. “And it was smart thinking on my part to use his senses and appearance to enter the Dragon’s home. The ward in place required someone to invite the other through.”

“I really let you in?” She thought it had been a lie.

He gave her a stern nod. “Yes, you placed your hand where mine was, and it gave me access.”

I let him in,and she wished she hadn’t. She could tell this man wasn’t good, even when he gave her a reassuring smile and held the door open for her like he was trying to be gentlemanly.

She walked inside and found herself in a short corridor. There was a main room in the back that was obvious by the double doors that were in the centre at the end of the hallway.

As she walked down in it, she looked inside both rooms she passed, one on either side of her. They appeared normal... dust covered, but normal. There were beds, wardrobes, tables, and even sofas.

“The others who are here with me will arrive shortly from the town. I asked them to leave so I could be alone with you,” he said when they got to the end of the hallway, picking up a curl of her hair to play with it.

Amalia stepped back and put her hands to her chest to cup them in apprehension.

He gave a laugh, his smile bright yet jovial.

“Not like that, I would not get in the way of what is supposed to happen on this night, but... definitely in due time. There is much for you to remember, and I must prepare you for the black moon.”

She still didn’t know what he meant by that or why he kept referencing the moon cycle. When he turned to lead her somewhere else, she didn’t follow.

“You promised me I may see my father.”

He came back with a brow raised. “I did. You can do so tomorrow when everything is done.”

“No. My father is dead. I want to know what you really meant when you said that.”

His nose crinkled in thought as his head tilted to the side. “He is not dead. He is very much alive and has been my captive for nine years.”

Amalia stepped back as her heart seemed to stop.

“But my mother told me he died on the battlefield.”

“Battlefield?” His red dusted brows came together. “What, like some human soldier?”

“Yes.”

He startled her when he grabbed the side of her head, pushing it so it turned one way and then the other. It appeared as though he was trying to see through her skull and into her mind.

“How badly has your memory been altered? For you to think your father is a measly human is quite impressive.”

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