His Witch, Her Demon

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Chapter 13

When Minerva returned to her horse, Aamon offered for her to ride with him. Of course she straight out refused and asked about her horse.

“I can walk it while riding my horse at the same time,” he replied.

Taking a few minutes to decide on what to do, she finally managed to grumble out, “Fine.”

So, she took Aamon’s hand and climbed onto his horse. Managing to take a seat in front of him on the saddle without wincing too much from her menstrual cramps, she grabbed hold of the reins with both hands. Seeing that Aamon had a hold of her horse as well, she snapped the reins at Aamon’s horse to go on.

Minerva groaned and leaned her head forward as she felt more pain from her cramps. She groaned again and closed her eyes when their horse galloped into the shallow water before them. The hand Aamon currently held at her waist found its way to her abdomen. His knuckles commenced to rubbing soothing motions along her abdomen. The witch’s breath hitched and her whole body froze up.

“Relax. I’m just trying to ease the pain,” he whispered at the shell of her ear.

Minerva took a deep breath through her nose and relaxed her body. And heartbeat. And allowed Aamon to continue his actions as they crossed the shallow river. It felt weird to her. Also, nice.

“Better?” He asked in her ear once they got back to dry land. He still hadn’t stopped either.

“Yep,” she whispered back to him, turning her face slightly towards him.

“Do you want me to stop?” The demon met her eyes. And she turned back around. “Nope, the pain isn’t manageable yet.”


The two stopped twice. Once for the witch to change and clean her cloth. And another stop to get actual food from a pub close by.

Clenching her fists around the side of the saddle, the witch jumped down from the horse.

“Good?” Aamon asked as he waited for her and stood beside the entrance of the pub.

She nodded and replied, “I just need some fucking ale in my system.”

Keeping their hoods up, they entered and took a seat at a table farther away from the boisterous crowd. A wench eventually came around to their table and presented them with two tankards of ale. She left with a few silver coins from the pair. Before the tankard of ale could even meet her lips, Minerva noticed the former boisterous crowd were taking glances at them. She set her drink down, whispering, “Dictrictio (Distraction).”

Then, a surprising brawl started between two drunken fools in the tavern. And, the crowd cheered. Aamon raised an eyebrow at her.

“What? They were staring,” she defended, happily drinking her ale. After finally taking a sip, she sighed contentedly. “Oh my gods, this ale tastes so good.”

Taking a sip of his ale as well, he muttered, “Bet it’s helping ease your cramps, too.”

The wench returned with two bowls of stew and refilled the pair’s tankards of ale. As she walked away, the pair thanked her with a few more silver coins.

“So, how long do we have until we get to Aldbridge?” the witch asked over the rowdy ongoing brawling.

“We’ve only been traveling for two days, Minerva.”

She glared at him. “You literally dragged me out of bed for this. So, I expect a better answer than what you just gave me.”

The demon huffed and groaned. “At most, … about another month. Only, if we don’t move faster.”

Minerva finished her stew and replied, “Then, we better get some rest.”

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