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Story: The WitchSlayer

Her eyes slowly slipped from her food to stare at him.

“What is it? What is the matter?”

He lifted his head, almost smacking into the rocky ceiling again.

Has she somehow poisoned herself?The idea did not bring him joy.

“I bathed you!” She shoved her face into her hands in embarrassment. “I thought you were some lizard. Oh my, I rubbed you in places I definitely should not have!”

Did she only just realise?

Rurik laughed out loud.

He couldn’t remember the last time such a sound had left him. He couldn’t remember what it had felt like as it filled his chest, crinkled the scales around his eyes, and then burst from him.

“That you did,” he chuckled, making her go deathly pale.

Chapter 9

Amalia watched the Dragon walk back into the room he had told her to wait in while holding a porcelain tub full of water in one forepaw.

When he’d placed it down, he’d been upset with her when she’d told him it was too cold for her to bathe in. She barely had time to duck out of the way when he unleashed a string of flames against it.

Amalia couldn’t stop herself from cowering.

Sweat dotted her skin. Not from the heat, but from the fear that cut through her so quickly her lungs felt as though they seized.He truly breathes fire.

“Is that warm enough for you?” he huffed with a note of anger in his deep voice.

She’d thought because he’d told her that he didn’t find her vile, only her kind, that he might actually start being nice to her. He’d also revealed that he’d changed his mind about her talking to him. His words had calmed her because she thought she may not be stuck with someone who hated her.

She’d guessed wrong.

Taking a moment to swallow her fear now that the flames were gone, she turned back to the tub on shaky legs.

She dipped her fingers into the water.

“Yes, this will be fine,” she said with a tremble before she cleared it.

“Good, because I am not some slave. Now that I am aware that you require your baths warm, we will organise for water to be heated beforehand.”Such a moody male.He gave her a scowl when she looked up to him with a dull look. “Now, enjoy your bath. I am going to rest. I have not since I brought you here, and I have used up a lot of energy in healing your wounds.”

She blinked at the space he’d occupied once his tail flicked past the entryway of the alcove.Oh, is he only behaving like this because he is tired?

Amalia hadn’t known he was exhausted and felt bad about annoying him now.

Ducking her head down the tunnel to make sure he wasn’t returning, she quickly removed the dress she wore, uncomfortable knowing it wasn’t one of her own. After she hopped into the water, she quickly wiped herself down while wishing she had some soap to truly cleanse her body.

She couldn’t handle the putrid smell of charred meat wafting from her hair, like the smell of her own burning skin had permeated it. Pulling the wet strands over her face after she rinsed them, she was thankful that the fire hadn’t managed to singe the ends of it too badly.

Do not cry. Do not cry,she thought, covering her face with her hands at the memory of being burned.

Gritting her teeth, like that would help her stem her emotions, she hopped out of the tub and grabbed her dress to put it back on.

Amalia felt overwhelmed as she ventured through his home. She hadn’t realised just how large it was until she truly started walking through it without getting distracted by the different alcoves. Some held many items whereas some were empty or had very little inside them.

She’d long ago passed the room that held the books, deciding to come back to that task later.

Thankful that all the torches were lit with flames, she walked down a long and wide tunnel that didn’t have any rooms for some time. Eventually, it opened up to a large area.

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