There was no mistaking the eyes. Sycker’s heart dropped deep into his stomach as he realized who stood before him.

Most dragons had a natural affinity for magic. Sycker’s bloodline was especially potent in magic, and his brother had quickly mastered the art. But Sycker himself wondered if the gift was selective in its recipients. His brother was a professional in mystic trickery. Sycker, not so much. 

His brother wore a glamour, a trick often used by the draconic kind to help them slither among humans unnoticed. Sycker himself had never gotten past the standing-on-two-legs part, but his brother’s illusion was perfect.

Nearly.

No matter the level of power a dragon wielded, they could never change the eyes. 

Sycker’s brother glanced at the floor where Jared’s body lay. He clicked his tongue at the bloodstained furnishings. The dragon kneeled down and grabbed Jared’s head, lifting it to face him.

“I’m sure you remember me?” He smirked. “I’m the one who paid that _hefty_ fee for your services.” He knelt lower, whispering,

“I’m not a huge fan of betrayal.”

“_How could… I forget…?” _Jared’s voice was hoarse, but he wore a rebellious smile. The dragon stood, then sighed and kicked the mortal.

Jared let out a weak cry of pain and rolled over. Sycker’s brother laughed quietly, savoring the moment. The laugh stopped suddenly as he whipped his head around towards Sycker. The rage on his face was too immense to hide, and the venom in his voice was unmistakable. “_Now as for you…”_

The glamour melted away, revealing the dragon’s iridescent blue scales and pristine, yet deadly, teeth.

“Karath, _wait-“ _Sycker’s throat tightened and his stammering came to a halt. Karath watched him struggle to draw breath and grinned. 

_“It’s going to be so much fun to deal with you.”_