Page 67
Story: The WitchSlayer
She laid back against the sofa she was on, rolling her eyes when she heard yet another roar.Will it ever end?She’d seen children end their tantrums quicker than this adult male!
With a huff, she jumped to her feet. She wouldn’t be able to rest or read with all the ruckus, so she decided she would make herself something to eat.
After going to the food storage alcove, she went to the cooking area and lit the cooking hearth and then filled the cooking pot with water.
Great, here he comes.Perhaps she shouldn’t have used magic when he was having a tantrum over her use of magic.
He didn’t stop at the cooking alcove, but he did turn his head and growl towards her when he passed it. No, instead the Dragon left his lair, and he didn’t return in the time she had finished cooking and began to eat.
He has left to get himself food,she thought while eyeing the entryway. It wasn’t the first time he’d ducked out for a short amount of time. She gave a shrug. She knew the wards wouldn’t fade away just because he wasn’t here.
If I am allowed to use my witchcraft, does that mean I may not want to leave?Not having the use of her magic was the main reason she didn’t want to remain here, and it would no longer be an issue.
She knew he would never allow her to use it to the degree she once had, but even being able to cook her own food brought her much joy.
I want to stay here then.She gave herself a small smile. Maybe one day she could convince him to let her roam the forest, knowing she would return.Maybe he may even walk the trees with me.
It was a pleasant thought to her, Witch and Dragon feeling the earth and the energy of life that came from woodlands.
Just as Amalia was cleaning her plate, she heard him return with heavy footsteps against the ground. She stayed out of the tunnel, but stood near the entryway to let him pass, knowing it wasn’t a good idea right now to get in his way.
A bright green snout emerged a second later before a large scaly creature ducked its head inside the alcove she was in.
“I thought I smelled a Witch,” a Dragon said to her – one that wasn’t Rurik.
Amalia let loose the most terrified scream when it grabbed her and brought her out of the alcove.
“Unhand me!” she yelled, beating on the Dragon’s fingers wrapped around her torso.
“Where is he? What have you done to him?” he asked, his top lip curling back over his fangs. His eyes were a dark shade of yellow and the closer he brought her to his face, the more she hated the stare of them.
“Have you killed him and stolen his lair?”
He started walking her down the tunnel as his head searched each room for Rurik.
“I have done no such thing.”
His head snapped to her. “Liar!”
Then, to her absolute horror, he released her so that he could grab one of her legs and dangle her above his head. She tried to stop her dress from falling and revealing her bare backside as her undergarment shift rolled with it.
“Tell me what you have done, or I will cook you.”
He licked at his jowls, showing her that he was serious.
“I tell the truth! I have not harmed him.”
Her concern over her modesty vanished when she heard the distinct sound that she’d only ever heard from Rurik when he lit the cooking hearth for her – the one that told her that this Dragon was about to spew fire from his maw.
His mouth opened, and he dangled her higher. The sound became that much worse.
Amalia didn’t wish to wear flames again. Just when the sound worsened, she threw her hands forward in the direction of his throat. She mentally chanted the spell that allowed her to fill her bath, and water came from her hands.
A gurgling noise came from him before he dropped her, coughing before he spit the water away.
Amalia got to her feet as fast as she could to quickly run back up the tunnel. When she got to the entrance of the cave, she bashed her fists against the ward keeping her in, desperate to escape.
That horrible suckling sound came from behind her, and she quickly dove to the side just in time to miss being burned.
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