Page 5 of Dewitched

“Iliana!”

A beautiful female with mile-long legs and a curtain of inky hair rounded the registration desks with her arms outstretched. Despite her pleasant tone and warm welcome, Fenix sidestepped, putting himself between the stranger and his ward.

Ignoring his defensive posture, she never broke stride, and her gaze stayed trained on the princess. Her reaction to him, along with the familiar scent that filled his nose, had the tension melting out of his shoulders.

Dressed entirely in black with her new ebony locks, Skye Maddock was almost completely unrecognizable, except for the eyes. Those big blue eyes had always been her most stunning feature, and even with her new look, that hadn’t changed.

“Skye!” The princess threw her arms wide and stepped forward to meet the hotel owner. “You look amazing,” she added as they embraced. “Maybe I should do something with my hair.”

“Oh, there’s a mage at one of the vendor booths who does amazing things with color.”

“Wait,” Simon interjected, his expression comically confused. “You know her?”

In response, Skye simply arched one manicured eyebrow at him.

“Right.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Of course, you do.”

A chorus of muffled chuckles came from the other Guardians. Though positioned at different points around the lobby, they clearly had no problem hearing the conversation.

The royal family didn’t often travel with a full Guard, apart from official business and large-scale events. As a young princess with a crazy, overprotective family, however, Iliana never went anywhere without a complete contingency of Guardians.

While it made security easier, it didn’t provide her with many opportunities for social interactions. Very few people wanted to engage in a conversation with six massive shifters breathing down their necks. As head of her Guard, Fenix had devised simple but effective ways to give her, at the very least, the illusion of freedom.

“Fenix.”

Meeting Skye’s gaze, he bowed his head in greetings. “Miss Maddock.”

“The cabins are ready for your arrival. Maybe you should check them out.” She smiled sweetly. “Just to be sure security is up to your standards, of course.”

He recognized a dismissal when he heard one. Hell, she hadn’t even been subtle about it. She also happened to be correct that he wanted to see the cabins by the lake for himself before he allowed the princess access.

“Draven.”

He spoke at a conversational level, and he never looked away from the females. Yet, he sensed movement from his right as his second-in-command crossed the lobby to join them.

Like Fenix, he towered over everyone else in the vicinity, and his broad chest stretched the limits of his black t-shirt. A wild mane of burnish gold hair surrounded a square, chiseled face, and eyes the color of Irish whiskey narrowed in determination.

In appearance, they were sunshine and shadows. In contrast to Draven’s fair skin and light locks, Fenix existed in various shades of darkness. Black hair that brushed the tops of his shoulders, a russet, scarred complexion, and eyes as dark as midnight—physically, he was undoubtedly the more imposing of the two.

Yet, there was a wildness about Draven McCord. An intensity that more than a century of life hadn’t managed to tame. While his rough-edged personality didn’t lend itself to social settings, it did make him one hell of a protector.

Confident Draven had been listening to the conversation, he saw no reason to rehash his intent. In fact, it was rare for him to issue orders at all. After more than two decades together, the Guard had become a well-oiled machine that operated on instinct and required little direction.

Leaving his princess in capable hands, he gave her a slight bow before taking his leave. As he passed the grand staircase, he gavean indirect, sideways glance, and the Guardian at the bottom of the steps immediately fell into step beside him.

The youngest of their group, and the only female, Seneca Okar had arrived at the palace with a chip on her shoulder and an eagerness to prove herself. Seeing a well of untapped potential, Fenix had readily given her that opportunity, and not once had she ever given him a reason to regret it.

Now, instead of a rigid pup terrified of making a mistake, she carried herself with a self-possessed confidence few could hope to imitate. She had a sharp mind, an even sharper tongue, and her startling green eyes missed nothing. Given another century or so of experience, she would be a damn fine leader to her own Guard one day.

“What do you think?” he asked as they followed the corridor past the various bars and restaurants.

“It smells like I’m having a five-star dinner in a high school locker room.” She shuddered theatrically. “Gross.”

Fenix openly chuckled at her description. He had purposely left his question vague for just this reason.

Otherlings might possess heightened senses compared to humans, but not all of them were created equal. Shifters, for example, had a better sense of smell than any other paranormal, including werewolves. Along those same lines, certain types of shifters could detect scents better than others.

A skinwalker—a unique and almost mystical shifter able to transform into any animal—already made Seneca different amongst Otherlings. Coupled with capabilities enhanced by her mixed magical heritage, she had a sense of smell ten times more acute than the most reliable bloodhound. She could literally sniff out danger that Fenix couldn’t even hope to detect, but the exceptional ability also made crowded spaces a nightmare for her.

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