Ignoring the utterly perplexed Kimberly whose anxiety was creeping in, Nicholas finished dressing up, his movements swift and efficient. Although he had warned her never to be in his room again, he seemed to have no problem having her there as he went about his business. Having worn his footwear, he sauntered to the long dresser table in the middle of the expensive and deluxe closet, where his watches, deodorant perfumes, and several other various fashion accessories were placed in an orderly manner. He picked up one of his perfumes and sprayed it on his clothes, then picked up another and sprayed it on his neck, behind his ears, and then under his wrists.Simultaneously, Kimberly's senses became completely overwhelmed by the intoxicating aroma of Nicholas's perfume, her werewolf senses heightened to the point where she could discern the subtlest notes of bergamot, lavender, and cedarwood.As the fragrance enveloped her, Kimberly's senses went into overdrive. Although it wasn't the f
Kimberly's eyes darted around the dungeon, her heart racing with trepidation. The large, underground vault-like room had grey stone walls and a dark granite floor. Soft, golden light from modern torches illuminated the space, casting gentle but eerie shadows.The room was sparse, with only a few features breaking the simplicity. The thick, brass chains that were anchored to the floor caught her attention. But it wasn't just the chain that made her stomach churn with unease; it was the multiple grisly claw marks that marred the stones around it. Her eyes then narrowed to a circular mark that was etched into the center of the room, surrounded by intricate symbols. Similar gashes marred the walls, a testament to the transformative power that unfolded within.Across from where she stood, a sturdy, iron-reinforced door secured with electronic locks and bolts led to a narrow corridor. The air was cool and still, with a subtle calmness that belied the room's purpose. Soft, golden light from
STILL AT THE DUNGEON.“It's not working!” Kimberly exclaimed quietly, her exasperation evident. For the past five minutes, she has been shutting her eyes and opening it, clenching her fists, taking deep breaths, imagining herself as a wolf, yet, her wolf refused to emerge, she couldn't transform.Nicholas remained in his stoic pose, his expression unreadable. “And why is that?” he asked, his tone neutral.His nonchalance was adding to her frustration. “I don't understand!” She fumed. “You said this was the easy part, you said you were going to guide me through!”“It is the easy part and I am guiding you through. You are the one who needs to do a better job at bringing forth your wolf, not me.” Nicholas retorted, his intense gaze fixed on her.Kimberly's eyes flashed with frustration. "I am trying! But nothing's happening."Nicholas's expression never wavered. "Try harder, Kimberly. Believe in your wolf.""I do believe in her," Kimberly insisted.Nicholas's expression turned skeptical.
However, in the subterranean office beneath their unassuming two-story house, the Silversmith family convened in secrecy. Arnold, Rebecca, Clark, and Aaron gathered around the round table, their faces etched with determination and resentment. The recent defeat still lingered, Nicholas's triumph in turning their own kin into a werewolf – a creature they had sworn to hunt – burning within them.Rebecca stood before the table, her finger tracing a path on the map spread before them. "We can't underestimate Nicholas again," she warned, her voice low and urgent. "He's proven he'll stop at nothing."Clark stood tall, arms crossed, his eyes narrowed in intensity. Aaron stood stoically against the doorframe, hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the table. Arnold was seated by the table, leaning forward, elbows on the table, his eyes locked onto Rebecca."The Lightwood pack thinks they've won," Rebecca continued, "but we'll show them the true meaning of power. We'll take back what'
Six hours later, Thursday, 7:00 am.Margaret was dressed in her two-piece cozy pajamas, with a night robe draped over it. She strode to her kitchen, her pale-blond hair packed in a disheveled ponytail. She was in a whole mood as she brewed her cappuccino, mentally jamming to the distant tweeting birds in the trees.Then she made breakfast. She made a typical American breakfast sandwich with a simple, delicious arugula salad and served it with a tasty vinaigrette. Once done, she quickly washed the cooking tools that she had used in cooking and made sure her kitchen was arranged impeccably as it normally would.Humming to the pleasant bird tunes, Margaret finally decided to go call her Almighty and formidable werewolf of a guest, whom she thought was still slumbering in his guest room. Thinking back to his expression when she had told her his room was ready, she mused that the image of his straight face, which she knew was a front, was still fresh in her mind. “If he doesn't loosen u
Meanwhile, Sheila’s mind was set in sheer resolve as she hastily packed her bag for her urgent trip to Anavrin. Having been one not to travel with luggage, she opted for only a sleek, small, cherry-red Christian Dior travel bag. Though petite, the designer bag was able to accommodate an array of travel necessities: A trio of different shades of red lipsticks, a pair of lacy underwear sets, travel-sized body deodorants, and a refreshing face mist. A few bundles of cash, ATM cards, a charger, and a power bank ensured her technological and financial preparedness.Sheila was the kind who'd buy new clothes wherever she went instead of packing the ones she already had. ‘When you get to Rome, you dress like the Romans,’ was her fashion motto.Her outfit was the edgy and fashionable kind— leather trousers, red ankle boots, a leather crop jacket with a furry neckline, and a red inner top. A delicate, silver necklace with a miniature compass pendant glinted against her decollege.She had her
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. Welcome aboard Flight 114 to Anavrin. We'll be cruising at an altitude of 35,000 feet, with an estimated flight time of 6 hours and 15 minutes. Please ensure your seatbelts are securely fastened, all electronic devices are in airplane mode, and your seats are in their upright position. We'll do our best to ensure a smooth and comfortable journey. Thank you for choosing our airline."The plane's engines roared to life, and it began its steady ascent into the sky. Sheila's face was as grave as the foreboding thunderclouds, her expression unyielding. But as the plane lifted off the ground, her tension began to dissipate. The takeoff was smooth, a gentle lift into the clouds.Sheila let out a silent sigh of relief. The plane had taken off, and that was all that mattered. Her rigid posture relaxed, and she leaned back into her seat. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to unwind, the hum of the engines lulling her into a
Back at Margaret's cozy rented bungalow down Brooklyn's street, the morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the scent of old books and parchment. Margaret sat up on her bed, surrounded by scattered papers, maps, and files, her eyes scanning the documents for the umpteenth time.The soft hum of the air conditioner provided a soothing background noise as she pored over the paperwork, her pencil tapping against her lips. Her gaze narrowed, focusing on a particular entry. It was 9:27 AM, and she was determined to find another lead, another thread to tug. Even though she already had an active plan (that is, waiting to trail the Silversmith Hunters during the next full moon), she still wasn't going to sit around and wait, so she began working on a plan B.Nicholas's hiding place remained a mystery, but she was convinced there was a clue hidden somewhere.As she highlighted a crucia