Astarion sharply caught the incubus's strange look—a gaze he had seen all too often during his long years as a spawn, and seeing it now directed at Ethemon made his blood boil.
He quickly stepped sideways to shield Ethemon (Ethemon raised an eyebrow in surprise, though he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of being protected by Astarion, even taking a half-step back to yield the stage), his voice uncharacteristically cold and hard, laced with impatient wariness: "What game? Stop beating around the bush and playing the mystic!"
The incubus slowly turned his head, his gaze locking onto Astarion like a predator fixing on its prey, his pupils contracting slightly with excitement—the elf's beauty needed no elaboration.
Chapter 163