In fact, she was strangely breathless as her gaze went to a pair of silvery blue eyes that practically glowed. Between that and his black hair, she’d almost think him a Dream-Hunter. Indeed, his powers were strong enough to be godlike.
The air around her was rife with them. It crackled in a way that was reminiscent of Acheron Parthenopaeus—an Atlantean god who pretended to be a Dark-Hunter for reasons only he knew. More than that, she couldn’t even tell what breed this particular Were-Hunter belonged to. Bear, wolf, bird, lion, leopard, panther, tiger, dragon, jaguar, cheetah, or jackal. He was that powerful.
“What are you?”
Falcyn felt an odd half smile curve his lips. A rare, rare thing for him. But then it’d been a long time since he’d seen a morsel as tasty as this one. Her white-blond hair was an unusual shade, but natural. And it contrasted sharply with her black eyes.
And she wasn’t just a Daimon. There was something a lot stronger inside her. Something he could taste and smell. The scent of it was like honey to his tongue.
“Hungry,” he whispered.
She actually rolled her eyes and stepped around him.
A sound rumbled out of him that was even more rare than his smile. So rare, in fact, that it took him a few seconds to realize it was a laugh.
No one had ever been so dismissive of him. Mostly because he ate those idiots and picked his teeth with their bones. And before he even realized what he was doing, he was after her.
She paused in the crowd to turn around and glare at him. “Oh, I see. You’re a dog. Well, Fido, I’m sure there are some nice little humans over at the bar who’d like to take you home and pet you. I’m not one of them. So go on, boy.” She clicked her tongue like a human would do their pet or a stray they were trying to get rid of. “Go on! Shoo!”
As she started to leave, Falcyn licked his lips. “So you’re the queen bitch of the Daimons. They told me you were something else. But how many of them know you have demon blood inside you?”
She quirked a brow at his question, then gave him an insidious smile that made his cock jerk. “Before or after I kill them?” Her gaze narrowed as she swept a gimlet stare over him that said she was sizing him up for battle. “And you’re wrong about my title. The queen would be my mother.”
“Then what would that make you?”
“Daddy’s most precious little girl.”
He belly-laughed. Something that made every Were-Hunter near them step back and gape.
That finally took some of the bluster out of her, as she caught sight of their uncharacteristic reservation.
And fear. Especially since they never feared anything.
Except him. Yeah, he was that dangerous.
“Who are you?” she asked with a note of reservation in her voice.
“Wrong question.”
“How so?”
“It’s not so much who am I … as what am I.”
Medea felt a tremor of fear finally roll down her spine. “You’re not one of them, are you?” The Were-Hunters had been created aeons ago by the king of Arcadia in a desperate attempt to save the lives of his sons from a curse placed upon their mother’s race by the Greek god Apollo—Medea’s own grandfather. Seeking to elongate the lives of his sons, the king had bargained with a Sumerian god to magically splice their DNA with animals.
It’d worked, and the Sumerian god and Arcadian king had created two races of shapeshifters. Those who held human hearts, called Arcadians—human in their base forms, they could take animal form—and the Katagaria, who had animal hearts and were able to shift into humans.
The “man” in front of her shook his head slowly to indicate that he fell into neither group. As he said, he was something else entirely.
Yet he bore the scent of a Katagari warrior. An animal at heart and in base form. She knew the raw, preternatural musk that permeated their breed. It was unlike anything else in the world. And though tinged with something else, it was unmistakable.
This wasn’t a man she was dealing with, but a creature of immense power.
“Like you, princess, I’m something much, much older than those half-Greek by-blows.… Deadlier. And unpredictable.”
“I know you’re not a god.”
He approached her slowly, and while it wasn’t in her to ever retreat, she found herself stepping back to keep from being overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. By the magnitude of his arcane powers that seemed to grow stronger the longer she was here.
“Perhaps, love,” he breathed in her ear with that deep, resonant baritone. “But there are things in this world that even the gods fear.”
And he was definitely one of them. She knew it with every single molecule of her being.
“Falcyn!”
Medea blinked at the sharp tone of her brother’s voice.
The creature in front of her didn’t react to it at all. Other than to give her an odd half smile. He tsked at both her and Urian. “Do you really think to make me heel at your command, lapdog?”
Tall and muscular, and unperturbed by that insult, Urian narrowed his eyes while he rapidly closed the distance between them. His white-blond hair fell loose around his shoulders, accentuating his sharp features as he kept his attention keenly focused on Falcyn, watching his every twitch. Which also told her how lethal and quick this being was.
A fearless, powerful beast himself, Urian was only wary around those who were worthy. He dismissed the rest.
Stepping between them, Urian gave her a bit of breathing room. “I would caution you to remember you’re in a limani.”
Falcyn snorted. “As if I give two shits for Savitar’s laws.” He raked a bitter stare over Urian. “Or you, for that matter. And even less for your boss. So don’t even think of dragging Acheron’s name into this as protection from my wrath. I dare him to say a single word to me … on any matter.”
Urian scowled at his words and bravado, given the fact that Acheron was the final Fate of all. To defy him while knowing his real place in the universe was a special level of stupid and bravery that most lacked. “Is there nothing you fear?”
Falcyn’s gaze went past Urian’s shoulder to something in the crowd.
“Aye, but sadly she’s not here.”
Medea jumped at the deep voice that spoke near her ear. Startled, she turned to see another strange man in the crowded bar. One who stood out as much as Falcyn, but for other reasons. His hair was as pale as her own, if not more so, and his eyes a peculiar lavender shade. Yet for all his paleness, his skin wasn’t white as she’d assumed someone’s with albinism would be. Rather, it was a rich caramel like Falcyn’s.
More than that, his ears held a bit of a point to them. For a moment, given the beauty of his features, she thought he might be fey … Adoni or such. But the way he moved, and given the scent of him, she dismissed the thought.
No, he was more animal than Adoni.
Languid and quick. A rare dichotomy that only a natural-born shapeshifter could accomplish. And like Falcyn, the air around him was rife with preternatural powers that danced for his command. This beast was every bit as powerful. Yet in a different way.