Page 52

“I have been meaning to ask, how did you end up in Bala’s mouth?” She turned her gaze up to him with a deep frown across her face. “You are not some poor, helpless animal.”

Rurik sat on his hindlegs. He’d known she would eventually ask on how he came to be in her cottage.

“Do you know of the Witch, Strolguil the Vast?”

She shook her head. “I have never met another of my kind other than my mother.”

He was no longer surprised or shocked by these kinds of admissions.

“Strolguil the Vast obtained his title by obtaining power through taking parts of magical creatures. He has killed many Dragons in pursuit of corrupted magic.” He held her gaze as he said, “He is also the first Witch who turned on his Dragon parent.”

She turned her eyes away to think on something.

“But you said that Witches came from Dragons over a thousand years ago.”

“There is evil magic, dark power that can give Witches the ability to extend their life by taking certain parts from mine. He has been doing this for centuries.” When she looked up to him, he noted that her face had paled. “He is old and very powerful. I have been hunting him for many years. The storm from that night was not natural. When he realised I caught up to him, he created it in order to hinder me as I chased him in the air.”

“Witches cannot fly,” she scoffed.

He lowered his head so that he was closer.

“They can if they steal our wings.” At her deep frown, he continued. “Steal a Dragon's wings, and it can give you the ability to use them. Take our scales, and they can be used as armour. Take our bones, and they may give you strength. Take our eyes, you will see better. Take our tongue, and you may breathe fire. Take our blood, our essence, and you will obtain unimaginable power.”

“I am surprised you are telling me these things.”

He knew why she said that.

He was revealing why his kind was so sought out by hers. He was giving her information that she could later use to kill him.

Rurik shook his head. “I can see you will not harm me, nor do you know the spells in order to do these things or have the knowledge of how to fight against me. If you were like the others of your kind, you would have broken my neck when I was small and injured. You would not have released me.”

“So, this Strolguil the Vast created the storm while he flew with stolen wings,” she said, telling him she wanted him to continue.

“Yes. I did not know he obtained the ability to create a storm, and I was blindsided by it. Although I managed to tear at him, he redirected the lightning of the storm to hit me. I felt the blast to my wings and knew that they were broken. Unable to do anything as I fell, I knew he followed me when I felt him hex me.”

She listened to the story silently while keeping her eyes on him. Whereas most Witches would have sneered with joy that he’d been injured, her face softened into one of care.

“Before I hit the ground, I had the strength to change my size in hopes he would not find me if I was to be knocked into unconsciousness. It is a defensive ability. I managed to stay awake, but I was not well. As I crawled for a place to hide, not knowing I would not be able to heal, your blasted cat stumbled upon me. Not wanting to change my size so that Strolguil could find me, I stayed small. Unfortunately, I hit the ground with my head, and when I fought against your cat, he managed to throw me against a tree when I tried to kill him. With my head already wounded, I was knocked out and woke up to you grabbing me from your birdcage.”

“Well, you are very lucky then.”

“How so?”

If he told the tale correctly, he’d been anything but lucky.

“You were lucky that Bala often likes to play with his prey before he eats it.” Then she gave him a heartfelt smile as she said, “And that you were brought to my cottage so that I could help you.”

As it usually did, that smile warmed him. With her long, curling blonde hair, her soft and gentle facial features, and mesmerizing azure blue eyes, it made her appear unbelievably kind.

I very much like it when she looks at me like that.

To his dismay, her smile fell and changed into one of deep sadness before her face turned to stare at her hands. She didn’t say anything for a long while, her eyes flickering side-to-side. Even her shoulders seemed to slump.

He stepped one of his front legs forward to lower his head and bring himself down to her level.

“What is the matter?”

“I miss that feral cretin. I miss my home with my own bed and clothing, my herbs and spices. I miss sipping on calming tea as I sat in the sun watching Bala catch bugs.”