Chapter Fourteen

19.5K 1.2K 178
                                    

The day stretched on and they ran into more burned out shells, scattered through the forest. Once they came across a clearing which had once been another fairy ring, but was now a circle of charred ground with tiny blackened stumps where the mushrooms had been.

Dameon walked in front of her, tearing a path through the trees. Alannah preferred it when he was behind her, out of sight; walking behind him, she had ample opportunity to observe the lean line of his body. His transformation spell might be faulty, but he sure knew how to craft a human body.

Alannah kept her gaze focused on the ground. She wasn't going to be the next notch in his long line of conquests, witch or not. She'd just have to control the way her stomach did that swooping thing when he looked at her.

The dragon halted, scenting the wind.

"What is it?" she asked, grip tightening around the hilt of her sword. "Can you smell him? The warlock?"

"No," said Dameon slowly. "It's not a sorcerer. I can't tell-"

The vines at their feet rustled. Alannah levelled her sword at the ground, bracing herself. A small, furry body darted out of the undergrowth. It trailed a long, familiar tail. She lunged and speared the animal on the tip of her blade. With a little shriek, it convulsed and went still. Pleased, Alannah lifted her sword.

"Rat for dinner?" she asked, blithely.

Dameon recoiled. "I'll catch my own dinner, thanks."

She frowned at him. "Don't be silly. I've caught it, now. And it's huge; it'll easily feed both of us." She swung the rat towards him and he flinched. "Do you not like dead animals or something?" His gaze flicked up to hers, eyes wide and skin pale. "No. Wait a minute."

"Don't say it," he muttered.

"You're afraid of rats?" she asked. "Seriously?"

He hunched his shoulders. "I just don't like them."

"Why?"

"They get into my cave in the winter and I can hear their little feet scratching around," he said. "They're too damn small to catch."

She tried not to laugh. Really she did. "A dragon that's afraid of rats? You've got to be kidding me."

"Ha ha," he said, dryly. "Everyone has their weakness."

"And yours is little furry creatures with long tails." She waved the rat at him again. "Sure you're not hungry?"

He placed a finger against her blade and flicked it away. "Not for that. Let's make camp here," he said, not so subtly changing the subject. "I'll get my own meal."

"All right, all right." She used her boot to slide the dead rat off her sword. "I'll build a fire if you set it alight."

"Deal," he agreed and with a slither of fire-touched magic, melted into his dragon form.

Alannah looked up. She'd forgotten how big he was in this shape. He towered over her, his wings tucked close to his sides, penned in by the trees. Still, she recognised something of the human in his expression, in the way he tilted his head. "Be careful," she said (and wasn't this an amusing picture; talking to a dragon without fear he'd eat her or burn her to cinders). "The warlock's around here somewhere, he might be just as annoyed by dragons as he is by Fae."

Same to you, came the reply. Get a fire ready and I'll be back with some real food. He crashed though the trees and disappeared.

"Maybe we won't have to find this warlock," she murmured, bending to collect dry wood for the fire. "With all that racket, he'll probably find us."

The Witch and the Dragon - BetaWhere stories live. Discover now