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Could he be a Witch working for King Bradwick?It wouldn’t be uncommon.Yet he killed Eldaeric without speaking to him, did not find out why he was here.

She also thought she would have figured out if a Witch was so close to her.My powers are locked away. I cannot perceive others’ magic like I could before.Still, she should have been able to recognise another of her kind.

She feared she knew the answer when Geryon’s eyes found hers with a predatory deadliness. It was a look she’d never seen in a human before.

And she feared it... because it was directed at her.

Before Geryon had killed the Witch, he’d been watching the partygoers enjoy themselves while he stood guard.

The overwhelming amount of chatter mixed with the sound of music was enough to disorientate his sensitive hearing. He had to use a simple spell, a sound dampener. It softened the worst of the noise, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to cope, not with how alert his senses were. It put him at a disadvantage to hear conversations, but that wasn’t what he needed right now.

No, Geryon needed his sight and impeccable sense of smell.

For someone who was mentally prepared to fight this eve but apprehensive of doing so, he was in an awfully good mood.

His elated mood had to do with Lady Cecily.

His observational gaze had caught sight of her when she first entered the room, and he’d nearly lost his breath.

She looks like a wintry princess.A beautiful maiden who belonged in the snow. If she had worn wings, he may have mistaken her for an angel.

Still, it wasn’t the way she looked that put him in a grand mood.

It was the thick red ribbon that had been tied around her throat. It almost ran up the entire length of her slender neck that he was awfully fond of licking and kissing. It was bright and stark against the softness of the silver and white she wore.

She wore it for him.

She asked me if I had a preferred colour.Last night, after they were done being wonderfully intimate, he hadn’t thought much on her question. To see it wrapped around her throat when it didn’t match her outfit made his eyelids droop with heavy satisfaction.

Not even when Bradwick danced with her did he feel a shred of anger or jealousy, not when that brazen display of possession was staring the king in the face. Instead, he’d just pictured Cecily as a swan, merely gliding gracefully along the top of a lake – something he could watch all day and night with much pleasure.

His eyes were riveted to her every time she danced, and he let himself be enchanted when he should be focused on his surroundings.

However, the subtle breeze from outside pushed in fresh air. It also pushed the mingle of smells of all the people towards him, and a snarl overtook him when he scented it: the smell of a Witch.There is only one.

He filled his skull with magic, changing what his eyes saw so he could track the tendrils of magic to home in on that power.

Everything went darker, allowing him to see the waft of energy from anything that had a magical essence.

Uck!He cringed at a glaring bright light that pierced his eyes. He swiftly closed them.Someone is using a glamour; one I do not have the power to see through.Whoever cast the spell would have to be a strong Witch.

Like shining a bright light against a mirror, instead of his magic assisting him, it was reflected. It blinded him until the spell he used faded. He needed to use his sense of smell instead, since the changing of his sight failed him.

He left his place next to Bradwick to stalk it. He kept his back to the wall, trying to remain out of sight from most as he attempted to figure out who and where it was coming from. It eventually led him to the back of a man. He wasn’t sure if he was correct until he heard the conversation the Witch was having with another.

He only heard the end of it, since his hearing had been dampened.

“Come with me,” the Witch demanded, and that’s when Geryon noticed Cecily had been grabbed.She is in danger.His chest tightened in worry and anger.

“Unhand me.” Even now, her composed face was exactly as it always was, not understanding what kind of danger she was in. “Please.”

Before things could escalate and she was at serious risk, Geryon grabbed the man.

He would have preferred to drag him to the shadows, but he decided against it because of her. He wouldn’t risk her. She was the one person here the Witch had found who Geryon didn’t want harmed – besides Bradwick.

He didn’t care about the rest of the humans; they could be unfortunate collateral.

“How did you know?” the Witch asked when Geryon had his sword poised at his back.