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How many lives have I saved?

He gazed at the skulls around him.Many.He had saved many.

All Dragons wished for peace and would rather live in harmony than in bloodshed. He shook his spiked head. He just didn’t see that as a possibility. Her kind wouldn’t stop hunting his to gain power.

Yet...His head turned down the tunnel.Why does this one give me hope?

If there was one of pure heart, there must be others. She couldn’t be the only Witch who didn’t seek power.

But, if white wielders were to fight dark, he knew the white would never win. They would never have enough strength against the vast power that came from corruption.

Rurik brought his head over to the firepit and sucked in his breath, drawing the heat into his mouth until the fire snuffed out.

He turned from the room with the intention of finding the female.

He hadn’t intended for her to come across this place yet. He knew it was too soon for her to discover it, which is why he kept this tunnel dark, hoping she would avoid it.

Instead, she had bravely walked down it.

He may hate what she was, but he didn’t despise who she was inside. As long as she never used dark magic, she would always be safe in his home, from him, and from others of his kind that may come here.

It wasn’t hard to track her scent to the entrance of his cave.

She was seated on the ground staring out into the dark of night that appeared as though it hadn’t long fallen. Her back was against the wall right next to the ward keeping her inside, her knees curled into her chest.

“Have you calmed?” he asked.

He could still smell fear mixed into her scent.

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper, soft but thick with emotion.

He came up beside her and sat down to stare outside just like she was.

“You are afraid.” Her arms wrapped around her legs tightened further. “You fear I will turn on you.” When her scent deepened with it, he sighed. “As long as you do not use dark magic, I will not. I have no intention of harming you.”

“Why?”

She didn’t lift her head to him, nor did she meet his eyes when he turned his face to her.

“Because I can tell you are kind. You have a gentle soul that does not wish to harm others for power. I will not harm someone innocent who saved me.”

He may want to scare the ever-living shit out of her and punish her for being a Witch, but he wouldn’t hurt her.

She stayed quiet for a long moment before he heard a singular sniffle.

“I do not believe you.”

He let out a growl, his lips curling back over his fangs.

“Why not? What I have told you is the truth.”

“That is why,” she answered. “You are filled with too much hatred. You are always angry with me, and you have already shown me that you do not want me in your home. One day, you will realise that you no longer want your enemy here, and you will kill me. I have many years left. You will not want to spend them with me.”

He hadn’t thought on how long he would have to keep her here. It is true he didn’t want a lowly Witch in his lair, but her presence didn’t truly bother him.

“Are you young then?”

Just as it was hard to tell with his kind, it was also difficult to tell with hers.