CHAPTER SIXTY
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"It's just a small village, nothing worthy of your interest," Ruto says worriedly, casting a nervous glance around the thick trees as the small settlement comes into view.
Amendiel's booted foot steps on a dry tree branch, effectively snapping it. Debris crunches beneath his weight.
His golden stare zeroes on the bustling village at noonday.
Nothing interesting?
The fact that this place is not included in his recent maps is already suspicious. Amendiel has always trusted his instincts when it comes to things like this, and right now, every dragon sense he possesses screams danger.
A whiff.
Amendiel's nostrils flare, catching the faint scent lingering in the air, he inhales deeply, wanting to hold on to it.
*Mine. Mine. Mine.* The word pounds through his skull like a mantra of madness.
The familiarity of it teases his senses and every cell he possesses grows savage in alert.
There is no mistake in the scent.
