He hadn’t wanted to see her. It had taken all the self control he had learned courtesy of his mother to keep from ripping her tongue from her throat. Her end would have been unsatisfactory and that wasn’t what he wanted.
He wanted her to feel pain, the unending squeeze in her heart, the unending questions and regrets. There was nothing in the world that amounted to that pain, that loss, but he would try his hardest to make sure she felt it. To make sure they all felt it.
“I’m so sorry”
The nerve of that woman. For her to stand there and tell him she was sorry. For her to look at him, a monster she had created. A monster all of them had created. And she had the nerve to say she was sorry.
Not too sorry, considering she was ready to burn him to ashes. Luckily, he didn’t burn as easily as his mother had. He shook the thoughts out of his head and he turned on his feet again.
Not that it mattered, anyway. He was winning. He was doing what he had set out to do. They were all there. All except for Ciel. Byrne rubbed his temples at the thought. He stared down at the short note in his hand and he gently stroked behind the shadow-raven’s head.
It bit his finger and Byrne raised an eyebrow. “I don’t bleed,” He said dryly, even a joke maybe. The shadow-raven narrowed its eyes. Byrne held out his hand and the raven was slowly sucked into his palm. Byrne groaned and he felt slightly better. Slightly. The note was short but not sweet. The witch-boy bleeds blue. Do you? We travel soon.
Byrne slowly crumpled the note in his hand, until it was nothing but a small ball. He let the darkness wrap around it and when it pulled back, there was nothing. Why should she care if he bled blue?
His bones had a slight tingling to it as he travelled down the stairs. Byrne wasn’t sure if it was from the slight fatigue of shifting and winnowing so many times. Not to mention transporting so many people, within such a small window of time. Maybe it was just his anger.
The musty smell filled his senses and he lifted his head. He had arrived. Byrne pressed his hand against the door and tendrils of darkness slowly spread like wildfire. Byrne cringed and he stepped through the door.
At his presence the room seemed to hum. He walked down the stone spiral steps, his feet hitting the surface softly. The patterns of his breathing were even and calm. Unlike the quick breathing of those who awaited him.
When he finally entered the circular room the torches lit up in his presence. Byrne shuddered when a torch lit up too fast, warming his skin. He walked past the only empty cell left, for Ciel Blackbeak, before he found the first face.
Byrne smiled and he calmly knelt down before the figure, holding onto the bars. “Come into the light, I haven’t got all day,” He spoke tilting his head to the side. The figure slowly moved and Byrne grinned when the Lion appeared.
“You,” Gavriel snarled, gripping onto the bars harder. His pointed ears perked up and Byrne watched as the poor cat looked around for his mate. “You’re-”
Byrne held up his hand and Gavriel’s lips shut. His eyes widened, realizing his body was no longer his own. “Not yet, Cat” He smiled coolly before moving on. Byrne’s shadow pressed against the walls and his pointed ears stood up when he reached Sam and Lyria.
He held back his growl and he studied them. While Lyria looked like her father, the soft blonde white hair and the bright green eyes, Sam was a mirror image of his mother. Shocking waves of blonde hair that curled around the bottom of his ears, and those insufferable Ashryver eyes.
While Lyria had gotten her father’s wind and ice, Sam had gotten his mother’s flame. Byrne obviously held more hate for Sam, but that did not mean he didn’t detested the sharp planes of his sister’s face. Byrne wondered if they thought they were evenly matched.
Lyria launched herself at the bars and Byrne gave her a lazily smile. Lyria slammed her hands against the bars and they barely groaned against her super-strength. He tilted his head to the side, watching her and her twin as they tried to summon their magic.
He’d always hated that fire. Wind, he could deal with. A hawk, he could deal with. It was that wretched fire that wanted to make him tear Sam’s throat out. “It’s warded. I wouldn’t bother trying to use your magic”
“Who are you,” Sam Ashryver asked again. Byrne crooked his finger and he smiled, leaning in slightly.
“I am a monster of your mother’s creation. But there will be time for my story in just a short while. Ciel isn’t here yet” Sam sat up straighter at the mention of his mate and he slammed his hand against the bars.
“Don’t touch him!” The male screamed and Byrne leaned back on his heels, watching as Sam slammed against the bars again and again. He studied his reactions, the reactions he had when it came to his mate.
“Sadly, my mother” The word tasted bitter on his tongue, “called Ciel. She has a thing against male witches” Byrne’s eyes grew dark and Lyria narrowed her own. Byrne swallowed and he raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” The female slowly sat back down.
“Why are you doing this?” Another voice said. Byrne turned around and he looked at the human. He could smell her fear, even though she was trying to mask it. He could respect that. Pity she was wrapped in all of this. He never considered her as a variable, seeing as her parents were useless twats, but there she was.
“For a while I didn’t know,” Byrne admitted. He stood up and he dusted off his pants. He walked towards the stairs and began his climb, the flames flickering out as his shadows engulfed them. “For a while I didn’t know what to do with my beating heart,” Byrne turned around and he smiled from the top of the stairs, even as there was a tight squeeze in his chest.
“But I finally know what to do now. I shall see you all very soon,” Byrne bowed his head, before slamming the heavy door shut.
The pop star, 35, isn’t the subject of the pictures — her boyfriend Sam Asghari, 23, is — and he’s been sharing them on social media, giving his “lioness” full credit. To date there have been four, and it’s our great pleasure to round them all up for you in one place.
A post shared by Sam Asghari (@samasghari) on Jun 26, 2017 at 1:32pm PDT
“Another one shot by my lioness,” Asghari captioned it.
Earlier this month, the Iranian hunk shared a group of three different photos that Britney had taken. There was this one, which he captioned, “Shot by my better half #B&W,” that showed him relaxing in the tub — full manfuzz — while the jets were going and his hair was slicked back.
“This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)” by Iron & Wine and Ben Bridwell (Band of Horses) // Originally by Talking Heads
When Sam Beam (Iron & Wine) and Ben Bridwell announced their new covers album, Sing Into My Mouth, I kind of immediately assumed that I knew what to expect. Dusty, laidback, country-tinged acoustic beauties of whichever song was chosen. Hearing the duo’s take on the Talking Heads’ classic, “This Must Be the Place”, I realize that I wasn’t far off the mark - but, I was also perhaps being too dismissive. The sound, though familiar, hugely works and the result is as pretty as can be while giving off a sort of latenight campfire jam session between two incredibly talented guys. It’s a lot of fun and i’m very curious what some of the other covers are going to sound like when the album drops on July 17th.