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Rurik was flung through the air. His body hurtled until he crashed into the other side of the room with enough force he broke through the wall. He found himself in the dark of night, and he slid over grass as stone blocks flung and fell around him.

Getting to his four paws, he could see Strolguil wasn’t going to rise. Rurik gave another roar, but this time it was triumphant. It was long and deep, the power of it so strong that he unintentionally released flames along with it. It was so powerful that his body tightened against it and forced him to his hindlegs as he released it.

Rurik let out his anger, his frustration, the hatred he’d held for so long for the life he finally destroyed.

Strolguil the Vast is no more!

He did it. He finally killed the most heinous villain to his kind. One that had pulled them apart by the dozens and had helped others to do so as well.

And it had been him! The WitchSlayer! He was the Dragon who took his life, had felt the delicious feeling of his skin tearing, had heard the sucking sound of his head being pulled from his body.

His front paws touched the ground when he’d emptied his lungs on his bellow. A sneezing huff followed before he walked inside, determined to take his trophy, the proof of his kill.

Others of his kind would come far and wide to admire it in his lair. He gave a satisfied growl to himself. He would both love it and hate it. He would love to show it off with pride, but would hate to have his tunnels riddled with others.

He walked to Strolguil’s head and rolled it so that it was facing him and then gave his sightless, eyeless face a sneer.You brought me down on you today when you took me from my lair.

But someone helped him to do that.

His head shot to the rest of the partially destroyed building.Where is the Witch?Where was Amalia?

He couldn’t celebrate his victory when he had other matters. A lying, betraying woman... who also saved him?

Grabbing the head with his paw, he knew he wouldn’t be able to carry it anywhere other than his stomach. He forced it down his throat since it was just small enough for him to do so at this size – although, it wasn’t done comfortably.

Then he crawled his way through the hole in the wall to the hallway while sniffing at the ground and the air for the trail of her blood. He followed it to the left and was just about to climb the spiralling staircase when he stopped at a shattered window.

She stood here for a while.

His eyes walked up the stairs in front of him before they looked outside. He jumped through the window, using his wings to glide before he landed.

Knowing he’d gone the right way when he could smell more droplets of her blood, he followed it with determination.

Rurik didn’t know what he would do when he found the end of this trail, what he would do when she saw her.

Anger lashed him because she brought them to this place. Betrayal choked him because she lied to him, tricked him. Confusion muddled him because he had no idea what truly happened, why she’d done what she did.

He’d seen her in that dungeon. She’d seemed like she was a willing party to all this. She allowed Strolguil to touch her without any fight, had told him herself of the prophecy like it was well rehearsed.

She’d known what was going on as though she had always known. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at the horrific things Strolguil admitted to or what his plans were.

Yet, Rurik felt admiration for what she had done, for stabbing herself to remove his hexes. She gave him the ability to fight for himself. The dragoncraft she’d stolen would have been completely used in that powerful spell. But it meant he also felt grateful because she had freed him rather than escaping by herself.

Because of what she had done, he was finally able to kill his enemy.

What was he supposed to do with these conflicting emotions? One part of him wanted to truly let her burn. The other wanted to make sure that the Witch who had once again given him freedom was okay.

The blood he was following wasn’t as heavy.

Is it because she healed herself or because she began to run out of blood?

He ran harder.

Chapter 35

In the distance between the trees, Rurik saw a man kneeling down with Amalia across his bent legs while he held onto her. They were in a small opening of trees that was barely big enough to fit them.

Sliding against the grass and roots of trees, he came to halt a few metres away.