Spellbound

Chapter 1

Stavros didn't flinch at the reverberating clang of the heavy cell door slamming shut. The guards tried not to cringe under his stony glare. Any other time they would have tested their limits by teasing him, but not today.

His hair was disheveled and dark stubble shadowed his strong jaw. His eyes were darker than oblivion and they could hear his teeth grinding as he turned away from the cell. He didn't spare them a glance before he thrust a wrinkled manila file against the larger guard's chest with a bloodstained hand and made for the exit door. The guard exchanged a wary look with his partner.

It wasn't anything new for Stavros to be silent, but in the least he usually warned them about who was being thrown in a cell. The massive prisoner had been brought in with a burlap sack over his head and his arms tied behind his back so tightly that it was a wonder they weren't purple. Stavros hadn't pulled off the sack or even untied him before he wrestled the prisoner in the high security cell and slammed the cage shut. If the mountain of a being in the cell had given Stavros such a hard time that meant they were in for a real treat.

The smaller of the two prepared to open the cell door to unbind the prisoner when a deep growl made him freeze. He looked over his shoulder to find that Stavros hadn't left. Instead, he was sitting in a chair with his large boots propped up on the rickety desk at the end of the hall. His muscular arms were folded over his chest and his eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared down the guards.

"Do not open that," Stavros ordered before tipping his head against the wall. His eyes closed and he went silent once more. The guards exchanged another curious look before stepping back.

No one ever questioned Stavros. The man was a grade-A asshole when he wanted to be, which was nearly every second of every day. It was as if he smiled, even in the slightest, it would bring on the apocalypse.He didn't ask; he told. He didn't follow any order given to him, which surprisingly seemed to work out in his favor most of the time. He was dangerous and deadly, and enough stories floated around to back the claims up.

He remained as still as a statue, seemingly asleep. Rumor had it that Stavros never slept, though. It wouldn't come as a surprise to anyone either. Despite those things, the fact of the matter was if Stavros said something like, 'do not open that', they listened.

The holding area went eerily silent. The air was thick withtension so strong that it made the guards' skin feel too tightly stretched. The stench coming off the prisoner grew fouler by the minute, forcing the larger of the two guards to cover his mouth and nose before his lunch could escape his stomach. Stavros remained unfazed and motionless, though the shorter of the two swore he saw the corners of the cambion's lips twitch ever so slightly.

When the thick metal door actingas the only entry or exit to the cell wing opened with rough force, Stavros remained still. Mikhail, their warden, was far from cheery as he looked over his top officer. When Mikhail cleared his throat, Stavros cracked an eye just enough to make contact with him. Mikhail's thick, gray brows rose, silently questioning why he had been summoned. He took one whiff of the air and used the sleeve of his midnight blue robes to cover his nose. Stavros looked almost amused for a moment.Almost.

Stavros' boots dropped to the floor with a heavy clop and he heaved himself upright from the chair to follow the frowning sorcerer. Mikhail shooed the guards back further and peered into the cage. His brow furrowed as his silvery eyes ran over the prisoner.

"Inventive," Mikhail muttered, gesturing lazily to the burlap and the abundance of enchanted rope tightlybinding thick wrists.

Stavros huffed. "You got it from here? I'd like to shower for the next century."

Mikhail chuckled and nodded. "I assume your paperwork for this has been filed in the correct place?" he called when the cambion began to walk away.