The scent of cigarettes hangs in the air, clinging to him like a second skin. I ignore him and fold my arms over my chest, tipping my head back to rest on the pillar behind me.
“Sometimes I wonder if you’re more animal than witch.”
I roll my head against the pillar until my eyes lock with his, and I let my pupils contract, turning my eyes into something more animal than human. Magic hums over my skin, seeking a target for my annoyance. Realizing I’m not planning on answering, he keeps going, running that big mouth of his.
“They say you have no soul. Is it true?”
I wonder if anyone would truly miss him if he were to disappear?
“Or are you just a dark witch with a black soul?”
One flick of my wrist and my dagger would be embedded in his carotid artery. He would bleed out in seconds. Painless, really.
“Some of the stuff you’ve done is—”
I don’t let him finish. I close my eyes, my body turning into black mist, and reform behind him. Before he can utter another word, my dagger presses against his throat, and I feel his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“Don’t judge me. Ever. You couldn’t handle half of what I’ve had to. There is a reason I am who I am. Remember that.” I let my body go again and materialize back to my original spot.
Noah’s eyes narrow and I can see he wants to say something more. I arch an eyebrow at him, waiting to see if he’s an idiot.
“Don’t be a fool, Noah. She will cut your tongue out before you even realize it’s gone,” a deep voice warns, echoing through the hall as Penn confidently strides past me.
With a smirk aimed at Noah, I seamlessly fall into step behind Penn. The air between us is charged with unspoken questions, and I can feel the tension radiating from him as we walk.
“So, you wanted to see us?” Penn asks, his tone curious but edged with suspicion.
“Yes.” The word slips out before I can stop it, but I manage to bite back the sarcastic “Well, duh” that was on the tip of my tongue. It’s not the time for snark, even if the urge is strong.
Penn glances over his shoulder at me, his green eyes flecked with gold, swirling with unspoken questions. I know he’s wondering why I reached out. I never call them; they’re always the ones tracking me down, like hunters chasing their prey.
I wink at him, trying to mask my unease with a bit of playful bravado. But I know he sees through it. He always does.
“This is unusual for you,” he says, his pace slowing slightly as he turns his full attention to me.
Out of the three brothers, Penn and I formed the strongest bond. Demitri, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about my existence; to him, I’m just someone else on his payroll. And as for Alexander, his disdain for me has always been clear, but I don’t take it personally; he has a talent for despising everyone around him.
“This conversation is overdue.” I shrug.
Penn makes a noise in his throat, tucking his hands in his pockets. “You should steer clear of Noah.”
A smile instantly lights up my face. It wasn’t me who Penn was worried about—he was warning me.
“A certain someone once told me: ‘If you don’t terrify people just a little, then what’s the point?’”
Penn’s laughter fills the air as he shakes his head, his lips curving into a wide smile. “You really shouldn’t listen to everything I say.”
“Noted.”
As we approach Demitri’s office, Penn takes the lead and gracefully opens the doors, holding them for me to enter.
Demitri and Alexander are leaning over the large oak desk in front of the expansive bay window, looking at papers. They give us a quick glance before going back to whatever they were looking at.
I stop just inside the doors, and Penn strolls past me, slapping Demitri on the back. Penn’s gaze drops to the papers on the desk, and he frowns. All three brothers possess similar characteristics: inky-black hair of varying lengths, olive skin, and large frames. They also share the same facial structure, with the only noticeable distinction being their eyes. Penn’s eyes are green, Demitri’s are honey brown, and Alexander’s are gray, mirroring the lifelessness of his personality. They possess a truly magnificent presence in their dragon forms, a fact I’d never openly admit, not even under duress. There’s a power in their transformations, one that commands respect. Yet, for all the awe they inspire, I keep my admiration hidden, buried beneath layers of carefully crafted indifference.
Penn has shifted before me more times than I can count. He does it with a kind of casual arrogance. His dragon is a brilliant green, vibrant and alive, with golden spikes that catch the light and shimmer like jewels. There’s something almost regal about him in that form, as if he’s the embodiment of the forest itself, all its strength and beauty coiled into one magnificent creature.
Demitri, on the other hand, is more elusive, more reserved. I’ve only caught a glimpse of his dragon form once, and even then, I’m not sure if he was aware of my presence. It was brief, a fleeting moment that has stayed with me ever since. His dragon was a smoky blue, with scales that seemed to shift seamlessly between shades of gray and blue, as if the colors themselves were alive, constantly moving and blending together. The way the light played off his scales made him look like a living storm cloud, powerful and unpredictable.
