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He seemed to understand that she wanted to go peacefully.

“I will stay with you.” She could see he was gritting his teeth, trying his hardest to stem tears from forming. “My sweet daughter, how could I let this happen to you?” He gently pressed his forehead against her own, twisting his head side-to-side, like he was nuzzling her. “You did not deserve this.”

No longer willing to fight it, Amalia let her eyes close so that she could finally sleep.

The last thing she heard was a loud, monstrous roar that carried over the distance. It was long and deep and would have been bone-chilling if she hadn’t already been slipping away.

Chapter 34

“Strolguil...” Rurik narrowed his eyes upon the man entering the ritual room.

Then they widened in realisation.

He has been blinded.He could see two palm print marks of melted skin, one eye sunken and useless.Femininepalm print marks.Did Amalia injure him? Why would she do this?

Rurik was beginning to think that not everything was as it appeared to be. The question was, what was truth and what were lies? He no longer knew how to feel. His trust had been broken, and Rurik didn’t trust easily.

I must not think of such things right now.He needed to focus on the villain in front of him.

The exit was now blocked, not that he would have been able to fit his size through the door. He took a few steps back to give them space.

I cannot fight how I usually do.This was no coven Witch, and Rurik had already been defeated by him many times before. It was only in the past two decades that he’d been hunting this man.

It had never gone in his favour.

Strolguil had too many totems of his kind dangling under his clothing. He could see the wings hanging around his neck, could see the of bracelets of claws. He knew he must have tiny Dragon bones under his breast plate and chainmail skirt because he’d never been able to crush him.

Rurik knew unless he could get close enough to him with enough time to strike, he would be at a disadvantage in fighting him. Yet, getting close to Strolguil for a fatal attack always seemed like an impossible task.

He also had to be careful that a hex wasn’t placed against him when he got close.

He has killed many of my kind, has drunk our blood to steal our essence for centuries.He’d grown so powerful that he often didn’t need to chant, at least not out loud.

Fighting by fang and claw wasn’t possible. Rurik knew he would have to fight magic with magic. He’d learned many spells and chants in his life, and although he didn’t use them regularly, he would have to utilise what he knew.

No words were spoken between them.

There was no need.

Rurik knew what he wanted from him, and the Witch knew he wanted him dead.

Something small was thrown at him – a tiny fragment of bone Rurik had often seen him throw.

He brought his wing forward, forcing magic from his body into it to re-enforce it. A shield formed. When the bone hit it, he was knocked back a step, but at least it hadn’t been as devastating as last time.

The difference between dragoncraft and witchcraft was that Dragon magic was more natural. It was easier to harness and execute.

Rurik wouldn’t need to think long chants, but rather one or two words and would only need to focus on imagining what he wanted, rather than how to obtain it. The only time he needed to use phrases were for when the spell he wanted to cast required higher and long-lasting amounts of power, such as his wards and removing hexes.

Vulnus.He lowered his wing and slashed the claws of his right hand through the air. Three blade-like slivers of air rushed towards Strolguil who dove to the side to narrowly miss them.

Rurik followed him around the room to stay the same distance apart and waited for an opening where he could charge forward. He wouldn’t be able to kill with his magic, only incapacitate.

No, he would have to do that with his claw or fangs.

Releasing fire from deep within his belly, he watched Strolguil cast a shield with dragonscales to protect himself from the flames. While it was up, Rurik stalked to the side to make them walk in a circle.

A pouch of material was thrown towards Rurik when he took a breath, and he blew more fire, planning on blowing whatever it was to smithereens.