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I am not safe here.

At the cave entrance, she could see sunlight just past it. She wanted away from here, from the creature who could too easily kill her. She’d seen the look on his face. It was one of pride, of determination, ofhate.

Just as she was about to greet the blessed outside world, she ran face first into an invisible barrier. The air in her lungs was knocked out of her, and she bounced back before tumbling to the hard ground.

Amalia started bashing on the invisible wall with the bottom of one fist while scratching at it with the other.

Something inside her skull felt like it was cracking. It felt as though her mind was breaking.I cannot handle anymore.

Too much had happened over the last few days. Amalia was beginning to spiral, no longer able to contain her emotions.

She’d learned of things she had never known, had seen and felt things she had never wanted to experience. And now... now Amalia just discovered that the person who had saved her life and legs from fire would most likely kill her the same way.

He burns Witches alive.She thought she may have been safe of that here. Sickness rolled in her stomach.I do not wish to burn.

Chapter 10

Rurik knew he’d terrified her when he watched her scramble from his trophy room. He let her run, knowing she was unable to escape his home, and turned to the skulls on his walls.

She needed time to digest who she was truly being kept by. To understand not only the creature he was, but the person he was. He knew she would eventually calm and realise he didn’t intend to harm her.

And he didn’t.

Rurik had no want to kill this small and defenceless Witch, this kind and gentle woman. She didn’t hold evil inside her.

But he wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t slaughtered her kind by the dozens.

At any point, and he’d been waiting for it, she could have struck him down. Or at least,triedto.

When he first brought her here and laid her down to rest once he healed her, he’d filled his mind with magic. It was an easy spell, but it changed his sight and allowed him to see the tendrils of magic and its essence in the air.

What he thought was a weak Witch was actually one full of potential. Strong magic flowed from her in the same way it flowed from him.

He was unsure if she didn’t know how to access it or if she just didn’t want to, but at any time she could have used it against him. She hadn’t. She hadn’t even tried, even when she’d been frightened of him.

His eyes fell on the tapestry.

When the Elders heard about his exploits and victories, they had this tapestry woven and finally gave him a title.

Rurik the WitchSlayer.

When a Dragon received their title, they were also given a tapestry explaining it. This was his glory. He was the first to receive what many of his kind considered to be one of the most glorious titles.

There was Glag the WitchEater, who, if the title didn’t give her away, ate many Witches before she was killed by one.

Then there was Deik the Cunning, who wasn’t strong of claw but of mind and helped others kill Witches.

And of course, Keela the FaceStealer, who learned that if she wore the face of a Witch or human, she could steal their identity – nobody else seemed to know how to do this.

There were many more, but Rurik was the only one famous for his collection of death.

He wasn’t the only one who hunted her kind. Others had similar rooms to this, but none came close to the number of skulls he had mounted on these walls. They would die before they even reached a quarter of this.

So many of my kind have died because of hers.

There were so few of his kind left in the world compared to the Witches and humans. Every egg that hatched was to be celebrated, but there had always been less females than males. If he didn’t eradicate the Witch vermin who hunted his kind for parts, they would cease to exist.

He stared at his title for a long while. All he wanted was to die with the knowledge that his kind would live on without him.