Maybe he could hang everyone by their ankles. Cyl Antun would sit back and enjoy the fear and anger crossing their faces as the blood rushed to their heads. Then, they would know how he felt to be at the mercy of demons who despised him. He would string them up in the forest outside the gate and leave them overnight. Let the nocturnal demons have their way with them
His power slipped out of his body. Damn. Cyl took several deep breaths. His power sucked all the fun out of being angry. If he imagined strangling someone, his power would be ready to do it.
He stepped away from his anger. He couldn’t destroy Otav House. Could he?
No. Nuall Otav would hate him. Best not to turn his only friend into an enemy, especially not that friend.
The brilliant purple and silver trimmed walls of the Otav’s estate spoke of subtle elegance. It paired perfectly with the black glassy floor. The Otav family crest sat above each door. Small enough to avoid being ostentatious. In the right position to be noticed by those who walked by. The halls and rooms were adorned with items one couldn’t find by walking into a store. Yet, Otav House was ugly. It felt ugly. It had taken into it the hearts of its residence. Everything seemed alive. All the time, Cyl felt eyes burning into his skin, probing him. This house knew his soul. This place didn’t like him.
He had lived here for half a year. What did that say about him?
Even Nuall Otav’s strong aura couldn’t remove the centuries of disgraceful acts all in the name of order and purity. Not that she tried. Nuall had a presence that demanded attention. She controlled rooms before she entered them. She should’ve been able to purge the house of the filth. But it was beyond saving.
Nuall rested her narrow hips against her ornate wooden desk. She didn’t have the Otav features. No one in the household had her short silver hair and bright gold eyes.
Her presence ruled her room. Cyl was safe here. He could relax.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish