Slave To The Fang

15, Different

Kyryaan's POV

The scent of wild flowers, rare, strong and enticing drifted along with the wind into the room through the open window and I took in a deep breath, blinking my eyes open. My eyes took time to adjust to the light and I took in another deep breath. This time around, I got the scent of fresh spices, herbs and concoctions drift along as well.

Swinging my legs from the bed, my mind went back to everything that had occurred last night. Carlisle's appearance had been unexpected but there was no doubt that his suspicions and his willingness to find out whoever killed Lyra and why would make things much easier for me.

Another deep breath. Freshly brewed coffee, tangy, so fresh I could practically taste it on my tongue. Shined hardwood, that distinct scent of old wood and remnants of the spell from last night. My senses were tingling. I wondered if something as going to be different today or it was just another temporary high before a potential very lowly low. The thought of it dampened my spirits considerably.

The problem with depressed people was, they were comfortable with being depressed. The disappointment that came when a potential high never lasted was so horrible and soul wrenching. There was always a low after that high. They anticipated it. So most depressed people preferred the sadness. It was familiar, comforting even, and brought forth no surprises. What was the point of getting hope that you will finally be happy only to be faced with the soul crushing reality that that little bout of happiness was just temporary and you will return to your sadness even worse than before? So depressed people were comfortable with being depressed. They were afraid of hope. That thing called hope.

I wasn't sure if I was even depressed. At least depressed people felt something. I craved feelings, any feelings at all even if it was sadness. Living like this for centuries, numb, pretending to be jolly...it was not ideal.

And yet, no matter how much it felt easier to return back to my numbness, something about today felt...different. I didn't know what it was, I couldn't exactly put a finger on it but it was there. Like a tensed cord beckoning to me to just grab it.

A few chirps and bird song sounded outside the window drawing me out of my thoughts. It was incredible how things could appear so normal despite all the deaths and secrecy in this coven. It was either there was nothing to worry about or someone was trying extremely hard for no one to suspect a thing. I suspected the latter.

It didn't take long for me to get ready for travelling back and about an hour later, I was downstairs, in the entrance of the coven.

"My Lord." Duncan greeted with a small bow, his face still disgruntled from last night but forced into gauche politeness.

"Duncan." I acknowledged with indifference, fidgeting with a button on my sleeve. When I was done, I plastered on a bored look and stared him down.

"It was a pleasant visit my Lord." The man started formally and this time I actually bellowed out an amused laugh. I rolled my eyes, sobering up, my bored look returning.

"Please Duncan. These formalities don't go well with you. We both know it was not a pleasant visit. One thing about me, I hate pretenders and you clearly are one. Ill chalk that off to the fact that you probably didn't know this before but now you do." I was direct and his reaction was anticipated. His face got red and he was barely containing his anger. I smirked. Some coven members started whispering amongst themselves but I paid them no mind. I had better things to do. I was Lord. I could do whatever I wanted.

"My Lord, the horses have been groomed, fed and are ready for the journey back to the mansion." He reported and I folded my hands behind me and nodded.

"Is Lady Karayan back from her trip?" I asked and the man nodded.