AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He sprinkled in several pinches of something that made the boiling water darken and sizzle. A pleasing aroma permeated the room and made her stomach growl again.
“What are you cooking?” she asked.
“Noodles.”
“Smells good.”
Instead of replying, he turned to retrieve a bowl and then portioned out a heaping pile before sliding it across the counter in front of her. After handing her a utensil, he then crossed his arms and waited.
Tentatively she twirled the a few noodles around her utensil and then raised it to her mouth. Her taste buds lit up at the unusual, yet vibrant flavor. The pasta had robust undertones with a hint of honey sweetness. “Mmm,” she marveled, going in for another sample.
Seemingly satisfied with her response, he filled a second bowl for himself and began shoveling noodles into his mouth, apprehensively glancing at the mark on her hand.
The silence stretched on for what seemed like forever, but was likely only a few minutes. Finally, he muttered, “Are you ready to tell me everything that happened out in the forest?”
“I thought I had.”
He shook his head. “Need more details. What exactly did he say to you? Why did he mark you?”
She took a larger helping of pasta and chewed slowly, buying time. She recalled that Orik despised witches. Though she wouldn’t call herself one—yet—shedidseem to be developing remarkable gifts that she couldn’t explain. How would he react if he knew she may have performed a resurrection? Even now she could hardly reconcile what had happened in that grove.Did I really bring a creature back to life?Healed its wounds like new? Could she repeat the action if necessary?
Or had the mysterious man tricked her somehow? Made her simplythinkshe’d revived that lema?
As she wasn’t really into the idea of experimenting with the lives of innocent creatures, her answer would not be forthcoming.
What would Orik do if he knew the truth? If he even suspected it? WouldThe Destroyermake an appearance? She shuddered at the thought, instinctively wary of seeing that side of him. All those rippling muscles bent on killing? He was right about one thing: He could easily cause her harm. One meaty punch was all it would take. Or his dragon form could chomp her in half with paltry effort and pick its teeth with her bones.
Fact was, the question wasn’t could he, butwouldhe?
She didn’t think so, but she didn’t know him well enough to trust him with her secrets…yet. Perhaps if shegotto know him better…
* * *
“Why do you hate witches?”
Orik blinked at the unexpected question. Her expression was earnest, curious, but for some reason he felt she was feigning nonchalance, as though the answer held no real meaning to her. So then, why were her shoulders so tense? “Because they are vile, evil creatures who murder my kind to bolster their magic.”They killed my parents and tortured me as a child.No one but his royal family knew the full story of what had happened to him. Sure, it was common knowledge that he’d been orphaned at a young age, but the subsequent details were not something he was keen to share.
“Aren’t there any good witches?” She stuffed another forkful of pasta into her mouth.
A dark chuckle rumbled out of him. Queen Juniper liked to believe there were, but that was because she’d had little interaction with the fiends. “That’s like asking if there are any good rodents,” he said bitterly. “You might be able to domesticate one or two, but in large, they’re pests that need eradicating.”
She stilled mid-chew, and it seemed to take her a moment to swallow her food.
“Why are you asking this? What was the nature of your encounter in the woods? Other than that detestable tracking spell, what did you speak of? Did he harm you?”
“Not exactly. Though I did get the impression he wouldn’t hesitate.”
Mind grinding, Orik plotted his next hunting trip.My dragon will dine on the blood of this witch.“I’m surprised he did no’ take you prisoner, dressed as you were in a dragon guard’s uniform.” Instead, he’d tagged her. Why?
She twirled several strands of noodles around her fork, not meeting his eyes. “Like I said before, I think he assumed I was like him.”
Uneasiness squeezed his muscles. Slowly he grated, “How could he think that? Witches are usually more perceptive.”
One delicate shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Maybe because he could tell I wasn’t a dragon, so I guess he just assumed I must be like him, and I propagated the idea. I told him your lot was keeping me captive, which, you have to admit, is technically true.”
Something primal overcame him, and he grabbed her wrist. The utensil fell from her grip, plopping into the bowl of noodles. She gasped at his incredible speed, her eyes widening with true fear.
“Were you hoping he would take you away from me? Teach you his unnatural ways?” The very idea made him crazed with blazing fury and an odd kind of terror. Would she prefer to be among the witches? Would she find their deadly means for assuming power seductive?
