Chapter Sixty Two
Neither male moves.
Tension makes time tick slower, Amendiel's sharp gaze is focused on where Juta is currently holding his mate.
Not even the goddess would have been able to stop him at this moment, with a brutal roar and accurate precision, his axe flings in the next moment, latching onto Juta's wrist where he holds Faelyn.
Juta's scream shatters the air, a deep, pained cry; he abruptly lets go of Faelyn.
Faelyn stumbles backwards, unable to tear her eyes from the raging beast before her. Goosebumps spread through her body as Amendiel's gaze clashes with hers.
It's only been two months, but the dragon looks different; his black hair is longer and wild, and the scar running across his eye seems deeper.
Not just these, Amendiel's scent has also changed, the earthy smell is now mixed with a tangy metal.
The rusty smell of blood.
