She had not been queen for very long and, yet, she felt as though she belonged to Sylva in a way she’d never belonged anywhere before. The shadows were her home now and, for the first time in her existence, she had a purpose and a goal. Mortem had officially announced her role there among the orange and yellow leaves, securing her place as their Demon Queen. Oh, how her father would be so proud when he heard. A sickeningly sweet smile spread upon her face, lighting a cruelty deep within the pits of her eyes. Surely by now her nephew would have carried the news of her betrayal back to his precious little island, vomiting tales of their mistreatment into the ears of Brennen. The thought disgusted her, and she could not imagine being so heavily reliant upon another.
Slithering through the depths of the shadows, she sought a particular face amongst the trees. Crevan. A wolf-shifter. Hopeful that he had done as he’d been tasked by her, she awaited the tale that he could divulge. He was easy enough to find. Like many of the others, he was alone. Content to be so when not otherwise occupied. Her aura immediately sought him out. It delighted her to watch its bright glow as it wrapped around his cream tinted legs and traveled up towards the strength of him. Inching closer she emerged from her spot, her ears trained upon him eagerly.
“Hello, Crevan,” she greeted, her voice icy cold despite the warmth of the summer’s heat.
@[Crevan] as promised.
