After a few more miles, the building comes into view, and
the unfamiliar scent in the air warns me that we have visitors. Devon takes
position beside me, while our father decides to stand up front. His chivalry
makes no impression on me, he could have his throat torn out in our defence and
I wouldn’t bat an eyelid, much less mourn him. Several other scents join the
first, leading me to believe that our visitors are set on an ambush. So be it.
The temperature drops around us as the first of the mages steps out into view.
Stunningly beautiful in a deadly sort of way, she regards us. Her long, dark
braided hair rests across one shoulder, and her six-foot figure is dressed from
head to toe in skin-tight black leather, which doesn’t leave much to the
imagination. Focussing on her face, deep green eyes stare back at me, very
familiar eyes. She bears a striking resemblance to Sapphire, and I get a
sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
A smirk spreads across her face, and she thrusts her hand
out in my direction, eyes flickering yellow. She launches her attack and I
dodge the blast coming at me, then charge towards her, intent on subduing her.
My father attempts to attack her, and changing course, I crash into him
instead.
“Blake, what the hell are you doing?” Devon roars in my
mind. Ignoring him, I avoid my father’s strike, while keeping my gaze trained
on the female in front of me. The rest of her little army emerge from the
trees, surrounding us.
She regards me curiously, holding her hand out to still
her men’s advance. “Shift back,” she commands. I’m not so sure that’s such a
good idea. If she binds my panther, I will be at their mercy.
“Blake!” Devon roars, angry at my halt of attack. I shift
back, standing before her, watching for the female’s reaction. Her eyes widen
with recognition. Damn Sapphire for this.
I can sense her anger build, she glares in my direction,
strands of her hair coming loose from the tight braid across her shoulder, in
the cool breeze floating across us. Her eyes roam over me, a mixture of
disgust, and resentment seeping into their green depths. Could she have been
seeking me? The display of resentment, due to having spent her years without my
presence? Her lips draw into a thin line, and she turns to the man nearest to
her, “we’re leaving, these panthers are not worthy of our sweat. Leave them to
the mages. I know they won’t be picky about dispersing of these foul creatures,
they never are. I, have standards,” she declares through clenched teeth. I
don’t know if her choice to depart is because of learning who I am, and judging
by the anger that remains blazing in her eyes, I don’t think she’s too happy
about it. Although there is a chance that her claim is true. I have come across
people who only battle with what they deem, as a worthy opponent, although they
are an extremely small minority.
The man’s brows knit together, confused by her reaction.
He glances towards me, hands fisted by his sides, clearly still eager to do
battle. A low growl escapes her,
“I said we’re leaving Ethan. Do you dare to cross me?”
she questions, her eyes flickering to yellow, in warning. His posture loosens
as he regards her. He gives a small shake of his head, the blonde child-like
curls, bobbing up, and down with the movement.
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