**Charges From The Sky—Joseph William Morgan**
KHAOS'S POV
"Whenever you take out that dagger, it's not ever for something good." Adrian muttered as Khaos stretched his senses beyond the stampede, searching beyond the measly, noisy, Strigoi who was attacking the place.
But the witch behind the creature cloaked themselves quite well. And the only thing that betrayed their presence was the scent of Ember's blood that still permeated strongly to him.
"We left her upstairs, yet her blood smells so strongly downstairs." Khaos growled, unsheathing the dagger from his boots and twirling it dizzyingly with lethal speed and grace.
Adrian frowned. "You smell the Princess's blood? I don't."
"Of course you don't." Khaos said with a dark grin, "you haven't spent eight years remembering that scent so it's only natural." He said while he glared at the dagger.
