More.

Brand, ripping an Amazon off his chest and tossing her to the ground, came into view. Yes, Layel thought, tracing his tongue over his sharpened teeth in anticipation. That one. That one would die today. No more waiting. He would not simply incapacitate the bastard; he would kill.

Layel kicked and bit his way through the ranks, gaze locked on the dragon captain. Halfway there, he heard a growl behind him, pivoted to dispatch the threat swiftly and return his attention to Brand. But his sword slashed and clanged against another sword, jarring him. No easy, unprepared kill this time, apparently.

He blinked as an Amazon swirled in front of him, swinging at him a second time. Clink. Scowling, he blocked her third thrust. Clang.

"I do not wish to hurt you," he gritted out.

"How admirable," she replied drily—before swinging at him again.

He twisted to the side, barely escaping the sharp tip. Had she just mocked him?

Wind gusted past them, lifting her cerulean-colored hair off her face. Suddenly Layel was granted a full view of breathtaking, incomparable beauty. Beauty even the war paint couldn't hide. Beauty that nearly felled him. Definitely rendered him dumb, for he ceased moving. Brand who?

Layel hadn't taken the time to appreciate the beauty of a woman in two hundred years, yet he was helpless to do anything but drink this one in, this fantasy come to life. It was as though she exuded something…magical? Something that forced the eye to her. Something that would not release its hold. But Amazons weren't able to weave spells. Only dragons could.

He continued his scrutiny of her, searching for signs of a dragon relative. Her eyes were so bright a violet they sparkled like freshly polished amethysts. Long black lashes. Slightly rounded cheeks. Flawless, bronzed skin where the paint had washed away. Unlike most of her hulking sisters, she was of the petite variety, barely reaching his shoulders. No, no dragon.