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“Once I am done with the young witchling, I can either hand her over to you, or I can give her to the Elders myself if you will not.”

There was a pause while Rurik thought, eyeing Geryon intensely. “Bring her to me, and I will decide her fate.”

Good. Geryon didn’t want the blood of an innocent on his hands. He preferred to kill dark Witches and hadn’t realised that the child being offered by human soldiers was pure hearted.Her coven had not turned her yet.

“Are you sure none have already infiltrated?” The Dragon looked down to his claws after raising his paw. “Your magic has always been rather unskilled.”

Geryon crinkled his nose in response, his upper lip curling back in anger at Rurik’s rudeness. “Yes, I am sure. They are never alone, and they always act out of character for a human. I do not need fancy spells to see their façade.”

Although Geryon’s magic wasn’t as strong as others, his skills with his senses were something to be glorified. He could scent a Witch from a mile away, no matter his form or size. He could also spot them with his eye, could tell they acted differently to humans.

He could use magic; it just wasn’t as useful, since he wasn’t good with it, wasn’t strong at it like his mother. It was one of the reasons why he hunted the way he did.

“My eyes and nose are much better than yours,” Geryon continued. “And I can smell through most cloaking spells.”

He could smell the witchcraft being used. It lingered on the caster, lingered in theirblood.They always tried to hide their scent, but he could smell their magic no matter what they did.

“So yes, to confirm, no Witch has made it into the palace halls.”

Rurik licked at his maw. “It is true, there are no other Witches here. Since I do not trust in your capabilities, I scouted the palace before I found you and did not find a single trace, except for the one you have shackled.”

“You searched my hunting grounds?” Geryon jumped forward to point at him. “You cause offense with such actions, WitchSlayer.”

Rurik growled, his anger spiking – he often mirrored others. “Do not shout at me! I simply wanted to make sure the grounds were secure before I made myself known.”

Geryon folded his arms with a huff, knowing if he pushed Rurik, he’d start trying to burn the palace down in rage.

“The gates will not open again until the night of the ball. Witches will come that night for her if they plan to at all. They will not be able to get inside any other way without being noticed or causing a fuss. Once the gala is over, and some time has passed to make sure there are no repercussions for the king, I will bring her to you.”

“No,” Rurik said, shaking his head. “I will meet you at your lair on our decided day. I would much rather not risk my mate and child.”

Geryon unfolded his arms with a nod, understanding his apprehension. “Fine, you have a deal.”

After his lengthy conversation with Rurik, Geryon returned to his room. He fell back against his bed and threw his arm over his face. With a heavy sigh, he let his mind roll over the events of the day. Dealing with his kind was always tiring, but Rurik, in particular, could be draining.

They’d gotten into multiple arguments during his visit, to the point that Geryon even had to jump over his tail as it was swiped in his direction.

Once they’d finished speaking about the witchling, Rurik decided he wished to rest. He lived in the middle of the East kingdom, whereas King Bradwick’s palace was in the furthest province north, a two-day flight.

The Dragon hadn’t wanted to sleep here, but he at least needed to rest his tired wings. Not daring to leave him alone in case he decided to make a meal out of an unsuspecting human who may have stumbled upon him, Geryon stayed by his side.

Lifting his arm to stare at his hand, he pondered a question.When was the last time I was a Dragon?Weeks? Months?Could it possibly be a year?

His arm fell to lie back across his face. He couldn’t remember.

Being by Bradwick’s side often meant he didn’t need to shift into his beast form.I am a trapper, but have I trapped myself?

Seeing Rurik’s Dragon form had birthed these displeasing thoughts.I often miss flying the skies.Was he growing so complacent, parading around as human, that he was losing the most important side of himself?

I even considered taking a human woman to keep.Such thoughts were uncommon among his kind these past centuries.

Lady Cecily wasn’t the first human woman he’d come across who caught his attention. However, she may be the first who had intrigued him enough to elicit complicated and confusing desires in him, past just playful lust.

I grow lonely... Yes, that is what it must be. Geryon had been doing this for over a hundred years. He’d shadowed different kings, queens, and even simple but powerful nobles. Not once had he taken a female companion to help him pass those years.

It often crossed his mind that he should return to his own kind.

Unfortunately, the likelihood of finding a Dragoness to claim was low. There were far too few, and they grew cattier the more males chased them.They are too aggressive to catch my attention.