The Reborn Witch had a nice 'Tea Time' with the Dragon Queen today
Chapter 50: Kiss that tasted of Iced Dessert

Chapter 50: Kiss that tasted of Iced Dessert

The cinders of the garden vapourised along with the drifting gusts, as the ice witch’s thorns hissed against the encircled flames. Adrei’s hollowed gaze darted around the destruction, frozen wasteland met cindering warcry, a death rattle for physics, continent split by circling flames and icy thorns, a miraculous sight that would have her sister sighing in wonders.

Adrei raised her hand, the circled flames retracting to her palm like whips to a houndmaster, except she cared for lesser bugs instead of a worthy enemy. The weeping hazes of fogs echoing in her ears, a cackling cry of the tarred World that revelated to the roaring flames. Amidst the cry, soft taps of soil taught the scorched lands a new form of silence, as the dragon’s lips curled up at the familiar glitters that spoke of winters, as her draconic eyes, now loving instead of indifferent, turned to her lover.

"You don’t need a rest?"

Demond blinked, scoured around the destructive miracles of the ages, the ashen flowery scent tickled a belated realisation, before she scowled at Adrei with a wry smile. "Uh...I know I kinda break it off with Adil, but you do realise we have no money on us to pay for all...this, right?"

"...my sisters can pay, no worries." Unshamefully, the Dragon Queen threw the responsibilities to her sisters, after simply attempting to incinerate her sister into the sky she loved staring so much.

Demond sighed as her bare feet tapped forward, as the Dragon Queen had a scowl that mirrored her lover as she glanced down. The old habits of her lover struck again like during her walk in Leona’s cave, for the feet left a crimson hollowness that stained the icy carpet, each marred scaths petals of a grief unbefitting to the ice queen, each a stinging ache to the Dragon Queen’s heart.

"...I know. You don’t have to tell me." Demond glanced away, in defeat, in guillt of worrying her husband. Her icy eyes that used to glare at her friend like a cockcroach now underlied softness of a cotton flower, and the fragility of a dandelion.

"I won’t. But a sovereign’s wife must care for herself more than her husband, Demond." A coiled admonishment for the ice witch who nodded in response, as she stopped before her husband, the height differences between one who cared and one who was cared for.

"Adrei...then what about you?" Yet the roles switched again, as she stared into the Draconic lens that seemed unfazed after attempting to murder one of her closest family. "Don’t....don’t tell me you are fine. I will hate you."

"Ha...well I can’t have that, can I?"

A chuckle escaped the Dragon’s lips, the ashen petals drifting into her lips, as her throat breathed an oiled sweetness, yet not as sweet as a mere glance of concern from her wife. If only that concern extended to her self-care

Yet, Adrei, ever the pervert she was, kneeled before the wounded feet, as she stared at the spotted veins with a newfound hunger, the rawness that called for her desperation unfound even in the battle against her sister. Her claw glided over the icy carpet, resounding to a husband’s worries and a predator’s apetite, as her palm tugged beneath one of her wife’s feet.

"...what are you doing?" Her wife scowled at her husband in a deadly glare, as despite asking the question, she knew precisely what her perverted husband is doing.

"Giving a fitting punishment for a wife who I wish to care about herself more." A calm answer retorted, if only the smirk didn’t betray her caring tone. A Dragon Queen, everyone. One who annihilated her clan for her cause, then her sister for her loyalty to the cause, now abandoned her honour before the tasty icy dusts of glitters, truly befitting the title of the honourless peacekeeper.

The witch sighed, the puff of frosty fog from her lips so heavy it could paint a new Northern Iceland just as her daughter did, for she could not comprehend the maze that is her perverted husband’s mindset. And so, she chose to give up, as her mind drifted to the dragon’s intense battle with Coriel. The nostrils that seeped in frost and ashes reminded her of the turmoils they both faced, the winter and wildfire warring that shattered bonds that once shook the Earth.

"Coriel still stays for the town, doesn’t she?"

The Dragon lifted her feet, as a familiar wetness touched upon her bare rawness, the touchful drips of a caretaker scraped against her toe. Adrei’s flames had burned demons numbered in millions, yet this—her wife’s frostbitten toes—demanded gentler conquest. To the Dragon’s surprise, it tasted of fridged freshness, sweeter than any desert she had come across. That sweetness...melted the remaining regrets she had for her sister, as her lips continued climbing the small hilltops, a welcoming distraction to her sister’s inevitable demise by her hands.

"Regardless, my sister is not a foe we should worry for, but rather...the black-root ball she carried with would be the major downfall by my end." The dragon’s stuttering lick slowly scraped in-between her the tiny tops, like a serpant poking its head out flickering at the vallley’s honey.

The witch mumbled as she held back the tickly sensation, a blush rushing at her cheek that was hotter than the fire that burns away time, before she murmured. "Black-root ball...kuh....I can tell you are referring to one of Adil’s corrupted roots that contained her mana. With that access....kuh, the rune can theoretically reactivate with the right tool, and Manasseh could revive La Llorona once again..."

Her punishment was effectively registering as her wife’s hips buckled and trembled. Chuckling a hot breath that crawled ants at her foot, her tongue finally the veined mountain, as it slid up to the small bruises that ached an inky iceness. She obliged to kiss into the tiny abyss as she was rewarded a gasp before her lips began coiling around the swollen clearing, attention and focus never been so tested even when she massacred her own families.

"Then, we would have to track either of them down before burning them to ashes, before another’s ashes rose once again." The dragon’s tongue straightened as it curled up and smacked the raw freshness that was her wife’s fridged dessert, each smack of her lips an obscene mockery for a ’punishment’ that left the witch gasping and...exasperating, as her hands hovered over her cherries, the reminder of that night slipping through her clouded mind in bliss.

"Mm...it’s impossible. Manasseh aside, I couldn’t....recognise Coriel’s mana before she was gone, and...I am more worried for that last vampire...her movement is unpredictable now that the runes no longer work."

A finishing kiss tapped the centre of Demond’s foot, the punishment with *zero* selfish intent finally ended as the dragon’s smiling eyes glanced up, her wife’s brows and cheek burning a thorny rose, irritation and embarrassment for the ’all-consuming’ love below her.

"Well, the worst case is that we need Adil’s runes once again to activate the seal she gave us to protect the civilians." The Dragon admired the hottest tomato alive nodding as her knees rose to hover before her wife’s pupils, draconic irises threatening to devour even the icy diamonds.

"And...can you afford it, Adrei?" A silent plea, even when exhausted by the Dragon’s antics, echoed from the witch’s hesitation as she stared at the truthful irises. "Can...we afford it?"

The sweet sound of a single syllable, ’we’, hung in the air that unfurled their unspoken vows, for they would live all the vows not by verbals, but by reverberating heartbeats that drummed in sync with one another, for one another. Her wife beckoning diamonds glittered, in search for a reassurance, not of abandonment for her safety or underrestimation of her strength, but of a tinged anxiety for their bonds shaken against the bloody threats who would paint the city red.

Adrei’s eyes narrowed before cupping her wife’s cheek as she brushed open the hat, leaning down for a single press of lips to her wife’s forehead, not of passion or absolution, but of a lingering itch to scrap away her wife’s worry. "We can. A mere sovereign with indecisions between her love for peace and her people cannot hope to be matched by my cruelty and your kindness."

"...in what ways am I kind?" Demond sensed again the cheesiness from her husband to spout nonsense; her momentary cloudness faded for furrowed glaciers that dripped of honey. Her husband chuckled again, her lips hovering over her wife’s, which earned her a hitched breath. Demond’s lips straightened, Adrei’s lips curved, embarrassment and smugness in a milimeter between them, a gap of amused playfulness by Adrei, a desperate longing by Demond.

"Then, allow yourself to demonstrate for this dutiful husband that returned from a death match, Demond."

The heated whisper that furled at the witch’s lips set aflame the kindling in her chest, the ’desserts’ underneath once again tingling, as her lips crashed over with Adrei’s, roughly colliding and tasting her own sweetness that came with the dragon’s punishment.

Their tongues darted once again the millionth dances of ice and fire, breaths mingling in the embrace that follows, two folded figures atop a frozen burning wasteland, a contradiction of frost meeting ice, a swirling hunger to devour each other not to thrive upon, but to thrive with each other.

It stinks. The wife’s tongue inhonestly remarked, as it eagerly leaned forward for another taste.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.