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He eyed the way she was sitting.She placed herself in a submissive position to show she does not intend harm.It could be a ruse, though.

Geryon flew forward, once again chanting the spell that would change his size. It brought him to his full, terrifying height.

He landed in front of them in the clearing.

“You called me here.” That light had been purposeful. She wanted him to see it, had wanted him to come to her. His snout crinkled as he lifted one of his scaly paws and bashed it against her shield. “You think this will save you from me?”

“I did not trust you would not try to kill me before I got the chance to speak with you.”

“And what should we talk of?” He laughed darkly. “I will kill you for what you have done, and–”

“Save her.” Her voice was small, soft, as she backed up slowly. She revealed the child to him, one he could see was injured. “I cannot find the items I need to do it myself.”

He listened to the tiny flutter of the girl’s heart, how weak and laboured her breaths were. It was hard to make out over the deafening roar of the Witch’s heart next to her, but it was there all the same.

Once she backed away enough to reveal the child, she put herself back in the same submissive position. Her arms were folded against the ground, her forehead against them. Not once did she lift her head to face him.

This situation felt bizarre.

“Why would I do that?” he bit out. Him? Saving a Witch instead of killing it? “I would much rather it dead.”

“Please, Geryon.” He growled at her speaking his name. The fact a Witch knew it at all was an offense! “I know you can heal her with fire. There is little time left; she will not last much longer. If you heal her and let me take her home, I will do whatever you say.”

“You do not have any power here. I can take you now, as my prisoner,” he sneered.

“Please!” Her shout was a loud, desperate plea as she reached forward to clutch the child’s dress with trembling hands. “Please save her. I am begging you.”

Then she finally lifted her face, and he reared his head back at what he saw.

This woman, who always wore a mask of indifference, was crying. It was ugly, deep red blotches marring her pale face, but it was how he knew her tears were real.

“She is my sister!” She moved to be over the child, cupping her cheek. Even he could see the love she held for it. “Everything I have done was to save my family.”

Her shoulders shook. She heaved through shuddering, unhidden sobs. They were as loud as her tears were heavy. She even placed her cheek against the child’s, nuzzling it as she rocked her back and forth.

Geryon hated her, yet he was uncomfortable seeing such intense emotions from her.This is a face of grief, of deep sorrow.

He should be relieved at seeing her pain, should be revelling in it. So why wasn’t he? Why was he staring in shock rather than laughing at her misfortune?It should please me the child is dying.He didn’t have to kill it, nor worry about giving it to Rurik to deal with.

“I do not care what happens to me,” she said against the child’s cheek. “I know I do not deserve such kindness from you. I know that as a Witch, I should not be asking a Dragon this, but I cannot live knowing she is gone.” She placed her head in her hands and shook it against her palms. “I have done things I have never dreamed I would do, have hurt people who did not deserve it, touched evil magic when I was a white wielder before she was taken. To do all of this just to have her die is too much to bear.”

Geryon knew this woman was a dark Witch by everything she had done to hide from him in the palace.Yet, she does not have the lingering smell of one. She has not fully turned corrupt yet.She still smelt pure.

“She is dying because I hesitated to kill those men. It is all my fault.” Her voice broke an octave at the last word. She heavily sobbed over her sister currently dying in her arms.

He couldn’t help silently staring at her.She was a white Witch?There was often a delay, a small period before it began to fester.

“Back away,” he bit, lowering his head. He let out a snarl when he took a slow step forward.

“What?” she gasped in surprise.

He couldn’t stand watching this female, who appeared a maiden of unfeeling grace, be torn down the way she was –not when he’d admired her for the way she had been, not when it was the reason he’d originally felt so tender for her.

He could be angry later, could get his revenge after this.

“I will not change form with you so close!”

Geryon no longer trusted her with his human body. He didn’t trust her with something so squishy and weak.