Chapter Thirty-Eight: WITCHES RIDDLES

Grayson’s Point of View –

Engulfed in the witches' enigmatic murmurs, they prowled around me, their eyes scanning every inch with an unnerving thoroughness, probing for secrets that surely only the gods were privy to. Cryptic allusions to ancient curses swirled through the air, their meanings tantalizingly out of reach, leaving me grappling for comprehension amidst the obscure chatter.

The indignity of my exposure gnawed at my resolve. There I stood, stripped bare, subject to the invasive gaze of three strangers—women who were not Esme, who had no right to behold me as only my beloved should. With each passing second, the affront clawed more fiercely at my dwindling patience, threatening to unleash the storm brewing within.

With a growl tempered to a low hum, careful not to provoke the witches' ire, I spoke, "Have you feasted your eyes enough upon my form? A sight meant solely for Esme's gaze. I would appreciate it if you'd clothe me in garments once more. And while at it, perhaps you