"Can love really blossom from a seed of war?"
A man tousled his hair and held a gaze full of contempt at the unlucky individual, who decided to bask in his company. He primped his hair in the mirror until every blond strand was combed back in a meticulous fashion. As soon as he was finished, the unfortunate boy came behind him and tied all of it back into a nice, neat, little bow with green ribbon.
"I am not too sure, Cecil, m'lord."
"Only time will tell I suppose."
The luckless boy nodded out of respite. He was stricken with dread for what was to come. The man was mad. Mad with rage, burning with the hatred of a thousand men.
"Josias, my coat."
He went on to fetch it without another word. He hated when his master would beat him if he was not quick enough. Other times he would starve him.
"Today, little beastie, is a start of a new era. The time of the humans shall come again."
"It shall bring you fame and fortune beyond reproach, m'lord," Josias went on to say.
"Fame and fortune? Stop speaking drivels to me, mutt!" Josias scrunched down preparing for the timely hit of silver that never came.
"Do not think so ill of me, you little mongrel. It is not me who you should be fearing." A wretched smile was splayed wide across his handsome face, making it even more of a cumbersome sight to bear witness to.
"You shall have some company soon and I wonder how you will fair with the genuine beasts of the wild, for you are nothing but a house-bred mutt."
Cecil's wicked grin intensified at the horrified expression portrayed on his slave's face. They would eat him alive, he knew.
"The God of Light shines brightly upon us. We will have our victory. As for the Packs of Amel...nothing but ill-fortune shall befall them. It is so."
Josias went back to his hovel of a room and hunkered down against the straw strewn across the redwood floorboards. His master had always frightened him since he was a young pup. Yet, the expression he was showing, though it was of joy, sent chills down his spine.
"Tell me, Josias, how would you attempt to nurture this seed?"
He laughed at his irrevocable silence and continued.
"With blood as the liquid of life and lies as the sun's sweet kiss."
YOU ARE READING
Fallen From Grace | BOOK 1Werewolf
For years, Pierce had bloodied his hands with war only wanting to end it. Yet, it persisted. He watched as his friends died one-by-one leaving only a few of them left. It angered him, but he was loyal nonetheless. Betrayal never once crossed his min...