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Story: The WitchSlayer

“You chose not to lie with pretty words. There is no harm in self-preservation, but you proved through your actions that your first thought is not for yourself. You showed bravery, then when questioned on it, you did not pretend that you would endure something that now terrifies you just to appear strong.” He stood to walk inside the large alcove and sat down in front of the bed to stare down at her. “In doing so, you have not only shown that you would prefer to stay pure of lies by speaking truth, but you have also revealed strength of character.”

“You are making it out that I am some pure, innocent woman of grace. That is not what I am.”

“Oh no, do not mistake me. I am quite aware of the acid tongue you have, that you are not afraid to smack an injured lizard in the head when it bites you, and that you are not pure of body.”

He gave her a knowing grin with sharp-jagged fangs.

Her cheeks heated, only just now remembering that she had told him of her first time with a man.I told him things I should not have!

“But you have shown me that you are guiltless in the ways that matter.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

He gave a sigh as his grin fell. “I have not been fair to you since I brought you here. I realise I have pushed and terrified an already terrified woman.”

“I did walk into that room of my own volition,” she rebuffed. That wasn’t particularly his fault.

“Yes, but I made sure I frightened you while you were in it. I wanted you to understand the kind of strength and power that I have, even against your kind. That, if you angered me, you may be added to my collection, when it had mostly been an empty threat.”

Oh.That was different then.

“You can be a right bastard.”

He gave a small chuckle while nodding his head. “Yes, that is often said about me. I am known for being spiteful. My behaviour towards you is not out of character.”

“So, you will continue to be a moody prick?”

He gave her a scowl, but it didn’t hold any real malice to it.

“Most likely.” Then his face softened, as if he wanted to appear sincere. “I truly do not intend you any harm, so you no longer need to fear my flame or claws.”

She rubbed the pad of her thumb over the small bite mark scar she had just below the opposing thumb on her other hand.

“You did not mention your fangs, though.”

“I often bite. I can make no such promises.” A small smile pestered her lips because she could tell he was trying to be humorous.

“Then I make no promises that I will not smack you in the head when you do.”

Once again, his face morphed into a scowl. It left him as quickly as it came, but he held her eyes with his expression turning serious.

“I will tell you, though, that I will be angered if you use magic in my home, yet I will not harm you. But I do not know what I will do if you use blood or dark magic.” A lump formed in her throat when he continued to hold her gaze. “If, for some reason, you choose to escape, I may put you in my prison rooms. If you attack me or try to kill me, I will do the same. Do you understand?”

There was no wrath or bite to his tone. It was just a simple warning for her to understand the confinements of their situation and that anything he did was a reaction to her actions.

“Yes, I understand.”

He gave her a singular nod at her agreement.

“Good. Now, do you still smell burning flesh?” She shuddered, the smell suddenly wafting from her hair like she’d been ignoring it until now. “By your reaction, I am assuming that you do. However, it is a figment of your imagination. The scent of your burning no longer lingers on you.”

“But-” She lifted her hair to smell it, finding it smelt worse now that it was closer.

“Come, we will find something to sweeten the bathwater until it is gone.”

Amalia found it considerate that he was choosing to help her rather than let her deal with something that was obviously bothering her.

She walked beside him when he led her down the tunnel. He stopped at an alcove with an assortment of high-quality housing items.

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