Page 51 of Witch’s Ruin

“There! I see light.” She dragged him to the nearest overhead grate. Another bellow had them scurrying. Mina lifted her hand. With magic, the grate above them was ripped away, flung outward on its hinges.

Well, that was easy.

Mina turned to him, eyes dancing, blackening. She slipped his dagger into his baldric. He dropped and laced his fingers together. “I’ll hoist you.” She didn’t hesitate, slipping a mucky booted foot into his hands. He grimaced at the filth of it, lifting. She scrambled up and out. He followed after, jumping to get his hands in place, then hauling himself through the opening.

They emerged, two filthy sewer rats, into chaos. Guards shouted, circling around a cluster of demons. He spotted the Jarg he’d heard bellowing, and two Trongs. Mina had led them exactly where they needed to be. Once again, her abilities unnerved him.

He took in the scene before him. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. With swords out, the six guards were taking swipes at the demons. A few stood farther back, afraid to get close.

“Step back,” Mina commanded. She’d drawn a hood over her face to hide the change in her eyes. Several heads swung their way. He strode forward, pulling his sword free, then took off in a run. He had the first head rolling with a single swipe. It cost him, though. Pain erupted through his sword arm. With his free hand, he snatched a Nebrine blade from his baldric and swiped down, removing the pincer that had clamped on tight. The Trong hissed, but he was already spinning, dodging forward, driving forward with his sword. He thrust upward, right through its skull. Another swipe of his knife removed another pincer. He ripped his sword free, removed the first Trong’s head, then spun to fully face the second. He backed away a step, catching his breath, removing the detached pincer from his arm, wincing as it came free. Dodging another swipe, he removed the final Trong’s support legs, then swung up and around, letting its head follow seconds later.

Silence fell.

Mina stood by, watching. She hadn’t immobilized any of them, he realized. When he saw the shocked expressions on the guards’ faces, he believed he knew why.

“That was…” one of them said, trailing off.

“I’ve never seen anything like that, Your Highness,” another said. The rest of them gathered their senses and bowed. He was surprised they had even recognized him, covered in muck as he was.

“Go for their heads, next time,” he advised, holding his sword forward for Mina. She knew what to do without his asking—using her fire magic to incinerate the ick on the blade so he could sheathe it.

She disposed of what was left, until there was no sign the demons had been there.

“They didn’t come from the tunnels,” he mused, guiding her away.

“We don’t know that for certain.”

“Wouldn’t we have heard them?”

“That network is extensive, Rixon. They could have passed by us using a different tunnel. There are many of them, and the grates are easy enough to remove.” She appeared thoughtful. “Let’s drop by the inn. I want to see if anything is amiss.”

They did exactly that, circling the King’s Mantle, looking for strange clues. Eventually, they made their way up to the roof across the street, to keep watch. No one came or went. That didn’t mean anything. The witch who summoned tonight’s demons could have returned before they’d finished slaying them. Assuming it had been a witch, but what else could draw a demon from the depths of hell?

Eventually, they abandoned their watch.

The sky was brightening when they made their way back to the palace. The gate guards hardly recognized them. Once again, they stripped their clothes in the doorway of his chambers, careful to keep from tracking muck through his apartments. Moving in unison, without a single word, they both gravitated towards the bath.

He let out a pleased groan, sinking into the hot water. Mina set about healing his wound, tisking over the injury, her brow furrowed as she knit the skin back together. They washed each other, the motions so familiar, it was second nature. With uncontrolled yawns, they tumbled into bed before the sun even crested the palace walls. He wrapped himself around the woman he loved, nuzzling his nose into her neck, shoving a knee between her thighs, and dropped into sleep before he could even wish her a good night.

* * *

Mina thrashed against him, breathing hard. He sat up, pulling her into his arms. Light spilled into the room through the drapes, but no one had been by to pull him from his slumber. “Another nightmare?” He rested his lips against her temple, felt her nod, felt her muscles loosen. “The same thing?” he asked. She nodded again.

She’d been dreaming of the rift. Frequently. Of the things she’d seen when they’d closed it.

He held her body against his, letting her calm before considering the best way to make love to her. She settled in against him. Perhaps he’d let her ride him, this time—

“Oh, gods!” She shot out of his arms and off the bed. He frowned. “It’s nearly lunch! The race! I need to get to the stables.”

He rolled his eyes, flopping onto his back, propping an elbow under his head. “Lady Witch, you have time aplenty. Come and ride my cock before you scamper off for your race.”

“No.” A look of defiance crossed her expression.

“No?” He lifted onto his elbows. “Did you just tell me no? Here? In the bedroom? If you don’t get that tight cunt over here and settle on my cock in the next five seconds, I’m going to spank you so hard, you won’t be able to sit in Jarrow’s saddle. You can kiss your race goodbye, then.”

A red tinge crept up her neck. Meanwhile, her eyes blackened. She regarded him, glancing towards the wardrobe and then his cock, tenting the sheets. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

“One…” he counted. She sighed, shoulders falling. “Two. Three. Four—”