Raiden's eyes flickered as he stared at the person before him. He felt nothing—no presence, not even a whisper of one. That scared him. His dragon instincts had failed him, and worse, so had his assassin's instincts.
He was a masculine man with short, messy, dark hair that had volume and slight waves. Golden-yellow eyes gleamed behind thin, round-rimmed glasses, giving him an intense, almost mysterious air. His mustache and goatee were neatly trimmed and dark, matching his hair. He wore a white shirt, black tie, and black vest—formal and precise.
"My name is Zion," he said with a cocky smile, approaching them from up in the stands with his golden aura flowing around him.
Both Noelle and Raiden shifted into ready positions, prepared for anything.
"Don't be scared…" Zion said as he sat down, keeping his distance.
"What do you want?" Noelle asked dryly, her tone demanding.
His voice turned deep and steady. "I want to fight with you."
