His Witch, Her Demon

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Chapter 4

The next morning, Minerva woke up with a start. It was nothing, Minerva thought. Just a stupid nightmare. She looked to the other side of the bed to see Aamon gone. Where is he?

Numerous thoughts ran through her head as she looked all around the small cottage house hoping he’d pop up and scare her. But, nothing. Did he-? No.

“Damn it, where is he!” She screeched when she didn’t find him anywhere. Minerva burst through the door to the outside morning air. Again, she looked all around her. And, he wasn’t there. The worry and fear was clear on her tired face. Minerva breathed hard rapid breaths.

The witch turned back towards the house, only to run into a wall. At least, that’s what she thought it was.

A pair of hands grabbed her arms and tried to calm her down. “Hey, hey. Are you okay? Minerva, what happened?”

Minerva’s breathing halted for a quick second.

Fury appeared on her face and she pushed Aamon away so hard that he stumbled back. “What the hell? Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you! I thought you left me! That He came back for you!”

Minerva noticed Aamon still wore the same clothes from last night and his signature black boots. He just wore a dark cloak over them, the hood still up over his head and covering part of his face.

“I just went to the village and got you some more food to make breakfast,” he said, reading the furious expression on Minerva’s face.


Aamon thought about that concept for a while, then tilted his head from side to side and nodded.

“Okay. Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Aamon pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. Her head was resting on his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on the small of her back. He hoped this would calm her down enough to not kill him.

“How do we know He doesn’t have his recruits out looking for you at this very moment?” Minerva’s voice could barely be heard because it was muffled by Aamon’s chest. Her breaths were finally back to normal and even with his own. She just wrapped her arms tighter around his waist.

Aamon breathed a deep sigh. “We don’t.”

She broke free of the hug and jabbed a finger to his chest. “You better hope he doesn’t find you. Now, where’s the food?”

Aamon pointed to the basket full of eggs, ham, and fruits sitting by the front door behind Minerva. Minerva stalked over to the basket and picked it up.

“Did you steal this or actually pay?” Minerva questioned with an arched eyebrow. Back in the old days, he would steal. A lot.

“Does paying with my own charm count?” he asked cheekily. The witch shoved it into his front. Hard. Aamon took the basket with a painful grunt.

Whatever, was her response. Aamon followed Minerva to the front door.

“By the way, your cooking breakfast,” she called lazily over her shoulder.

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