4
The dark study was shrouded in deep shadows. Not even the light from the tall, wide window cast shadows over the tall oak bookshelves and their worn books.
Behind the desk sat the usual figure of Michael, but he wasn’t in his usual mood. His normally stoic demeanor was broken by his furrowed brows. He leaned back in his chair with his elbows on his crossed legs and his fingers intertwined. His dark semi-formal attire was slightly mussed from his slouching posture.
His blood-red eyes glared at the wall of books to the right of the door. A thought struck him and his lips curled back in a snarl. His long fangs were the only lightness in the room.
A knock came from the door. “Enter,” he snapped.
The entrance opened and Maurice slipped inside. His shocking rainbow-styled hair sto
