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... nded. She was the Violet Great Spirit of Lust, and she had arrived to claim him. The press of her presence weighed upon his mind, thick with promise, power, and passion. All his nerve endings wailed with the knowledge that this meeting would alter him, that nothing could ever be the same again.

"Darling..." Her voice stroked him like silk infused with flames, tantalizing, yet gentle, enfolding his senses in a manner that made his chest constrict. "What are you thinking?"

Victor h ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

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“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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