Marc saw himself making love to Susanna, but the imagery was shown from her point of view. The sight of those breasts moving in unison to his trusts had the desired effect.

A rush of blood made his little soldier throb. Drusilla responded in kind, approaching him slowly, as a wolf stalks its prey. She grabbed him by the crotch and fondled him until he was as hard as an anvil.

“He’s not very loyal,” Drusilla huffed. “Shall I take him now?”

“If that is your wish,” Susanna said before bobbing a rigid curtsey.

“I’m here for you,” Susanna said.

At that moment, he spotted the predator lurking behind Drusilla’s eyes. He had seen it before in soldiers who were too eager to fight. Those who thirsted for blood and carnage because it made them feel something… She loves to play with her food…

“You don’t know the half of it…” Susanna said. “You need to play her game and appear enraptured by her beauty.”

“At least he’s pretty…” Susanna said to throw off her opponent.

The woman wearing the white robe approached him, and Susanna backed away instinctively. There was raw, animal magnetism to this creature, the veritable embodiment of a Roman goddess.

He sensed that Drusilla was humming for more than entertainment. The longer he faced this Roman beauty, the more she became the focus of his world. That remained true until an opposing force lifted the veil over his head.

“I’m here for you,” Susanna said.

“So, this is the soldier?” Drusilla asked, in a voice that was purposefully formal. “The one who’ll help us wage war against The Tower?”

He had no idea what The Tower was, let alone why they were at war with it. In truth, only being told what he needed to know certainly suited his role as a soldier though… That explains why they were interested in me after they learned of my victory against Barón…

“That’s not what I have in mind for you,” Susanna said from the inside of his head.

“At least he’s pretty…” Susanna said to throw off her opponent.

For Marc, it was like staring at a portrait done by a master painter. The level of skill and detail was beyond comparison. Yet, there was something unnatural, even if he could not articulate what it was… like neither breathing…

There was tension in the room, so thick that he would need his sabre to hack through it. At her request, he came unarmed, and in hindsight it was an odd way for a soldier to meet his maker.

“So, this is the soldier?” Drusilla asked, in a voice that was purposefully formal. “The one who’ll help us wage war against The Tower?”

Marc had to admit that reading people was never one of his strengths. Anyone could figure out that someone was mad when they flew off the handle. However, it proved challenging when they teetered on the edge of insanity.

Still, there were clues, such as erratic movements, a predatory stare, clenched jaw and fists. One simply had to observe their breathing, perspiration, and heart rate.

The last three were key, because these were predominantly autonomous responses. Few were able to prevent the veins on their forehead from bulging. Hunters were amongst the few who could consciously control their autonomous functions, and that was why they were dangerous.