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She didn’t want to anymore.

All she wanted was to forget, but she could always smell it in her hair. It lingered, reminding her.

She wanted to apologise for doing this in front of him. She didn’t know why he still remained, or why he was choosing to watch her when she thought he might not care that she was suffering.

At any moment, she knew he would leave her alone to be a crying, sobbing mess. She wanted him to so that she could do this privately, but she didn’t want him to leave because she didn’t want to be alone.

Crawling loneliness swept through her, and she just cried harder. She was suffering alone and had no one to turn to.

She felt heat and flinched, but thought it was just her mind playing tricks since she couldn’t see beyond her forehead pressed against the ground.

Then shock cut through her when someone grabbed her shoulders and lifted her so she was upright on her knees. They slammed her body against theirs.

One arm was over her shoulder with the hand pressing into the back of her head, her face was squished against their neck. The other arm was crossed over her back, pulling her tightly against them.

“Why are you-?” she stuttered over hiccupping breaths.

“Cry, Amalia,” Rurik said, in his human form rather than his scaly one. He pulled her tighter. “It is fine.”

It was the first time he had said her name, called her something other than Witch. He was trying to comfort her.

With a silent sob, she raised her hands and dug her fingertips into the bare skin of his back.I feel so alone.

Her body heaved against his, but he was strong enough to stop her from shaking him. She could feel the crook of his neck was becoming wet with her tears, but she held him tighter, her fingertips digging in, as she released her pain.

Amalia didn’t know why he was choosing to do this for her, to hold her in his big, muscular embrace, but she appreciated it. He even started patting the back of her head.

They stayed like that, both of them on their knees, while the sounds of her sobbing echoed off the stone walls of his cave.

I do not want to remember anymore.

He stayed with her, even once she settled enough that she barely cried and limply held him. Her body felt completely drained of energy, like the power of her outburst had sapped away all her strength.

His body was so unbelievably warm, and it soothed her muscles that had been tight with tension. He continued to pat her head, making her mind go more and more quiet the longer he did it, and her painful memories ceased.

She languidly laid against him, her eyes drooping now that her tears had finally stopped. He didn’t move when her arms dropped, nor did he pull them apart when she finally felt true peace for the first time since she arrived here.

He pulled her forward while he slowly fell back to rest against his ankles, no longer keeping them upright on their knees. He still didn’t release her, and his hold was firm and comforting.

“Sleep. You are safe here.”

And in that moment, being held by him, she felt that way.

Chapter 11

Amalia woke lying on softness and found herself on the bed in the room filled with treasure.

She lay there for a while, curled on her side, watching the firelight catch against the pile of riches as the gold and jewels glittered. Her eyes trailed along the walls, then to the pillars at the corners of the bed she could see.

Moving her head slowly, her gaze travelled until she was able to see large, silver eyes peering at her from the entryway.

In his Dragon form, Rurik was laying in the entry, facing her. His jaw rested in one of his paws while the rest of his scaly body was outside the room.

He didn’t say or do anything when their eyes connected, allowing her to wake fully in her own time. Her cheeks heated, and she averted her gaze by turning her head to the riches in the room.

I fell asleep in his arms.

She was embarrassed that she did, and ashamed that she allowed herself to cry in such a manner in front of him.