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They currently weren’t planning for an invasion or attack, so Cecily being in this room wouldn’t cause any harm.

“Fine, I will allow you to believe that you have convinced me,” she said as she walked inside the room, letting her gaze sweep over it in its entirety. “Once this gala is over, I will either be selected, or I will go back to Dyèrie manor.”

Geryon remained silent, turning his head to stare out the windows in the hall before he followed her inside.How deeply do I wish to play this game?Or rather, howlongdid he wish to play this game?

“Many noblemen have been speaking with you ladies with the intention of courting the ones not chosen by Bradwick.”

A sound he’d never heard before filled his ears. Cecily laughed... at him! “You are jesting. You truly cannot be saying that you want me to become your ladyship? You barely know me.”

Geryon pouted, disappointed that the first laugh he won from her had been directed at him with sarcasm.

Why not?He didn’t understand why his words would cause her to laugh at him.She is a human woman; they usually fawn at these kinds of words or ideals.He could tell she was human; her scent and lack of magic were obvious.

He’d been hoping his words, although a lie, may soften her.

I should be the one to laugh at such a notion.Many Dragons had taken human companions to ease their long years. Dragons could live eight hundred years if they were lucky, and a human life was merely the blink of an eye to them.

They also weren’t allowed to breed with them, due to Dragon law. They didn’t want to sire any more Witches that could bring further havoc on his species.

Geryon had considered it for a long time because he thought it would make his life as a human next to King Bradwick more enjoyable.I am often bored here, waiting for the reason why I came to this palace to happen.

Bored enough that he’d instigated his most recent hunt.

“Oh, you were serious.” Her laughter died, and he gave her a glare. “I doubt King Bradwick will tolerate it.”

“Perhaps not for the other men of his court, but he most likely would for me.” He had his arms folded across his broad chest, standing in the middle to be close to her, no matter where she ventured.

“How can you be so sure?”

Her hands were clasped behind her, and Geryon wasn’t sure if she was aware that doing so pushed her breasts up.I wonder if they are soft.He quickly averted his gaze before she noticed, even though she was too busy looking around the room.

She bent over occasionally to peek inside lower sections of doorless cabinets, inspecting the book titles and unfurled scrolls carelessly put away.

“King Bradwick is annoyingly invested in my state of being. He believes I do not enjoy myself enough, and that deeply offends him.” He tapped his fingers against his biceps in irritation. “Quite often, he sends women to my bed in order to cheer me, without understanding I am already quite merry.”

He hated it, because it meant there was someone he didn’t know or trust in his private suite. He didn’t know where Bradwick kept acquiring keys, since he’d confiscated many.

He tried his best to keep himself happy, since he wasn’t able to lose himself in thoughtlessness like most of his kind did. Dragons could go through periods of time with blank thoughts, allowing time to pass quicker for them.

I can only do that in my lair.He couldn’t with the humans around him. It was a form of rest, one he did in between choosing his hunting grounds.

“He often threatens to whip me for not taking his gifts to bed,” Geryon chuckled. “For that reason alone, he does not care what I do.”

She’d been walking around the battle planning table, slipping her fingertips over it while she was listening to him speak. Slowly, she was making her way back around.

“Regardless,” she said, eyeing him from the corner of her lids. “Such words may work with other women, Lord Geryon, but they are not so effective on me. I am aware of the games and pretty words men speak to women to lift their skirts. I am not so silly.”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him with a look. It was a warning, and she gave it to him while she stood directly in front of him.

“Do not utter false promises. I do not appreciate them, and they hinder your progress.”

Geryon crinkled his nose in irritation and stepped forward. He gripped her jaw, forcing her head to tilt back.

“Currently, what I want is to have you scream for me.” He brought her closer with his forceful hold, and her hands reached up to grasp his wrist to pull it away. “But, once I obtain it, you do not know what I may want from you. My words may not be empty, but they most definitely could be.” Geryon licked under her jaw to taste the salt of her sweat against his tongue. “But I am rather fond of your heartlessness.”

She hadn’t cared if she offended him, hurt him, disappointed him with her words or stares. Cecily was an unsympathetic monster. It made him want to claw at her dress and take her so he could make her feel something. He wanted to know the secrets beneath that blankness.

She stepped back, and there it was, the cold stare that made him want to pant at her like a dog in heat. If a look could kill, hers would have been the sharpest blade skilfully poised at the heart.