e Goodw

ough the glass cabin. Cyril had left early for a "boar

the doorbell

chival glue, I opened the door in

-Victoria Sweeney-wore an immaculate, high-collared burgundy lace gown with a velvet cape, while

clasping her gloved hands together. "Look at her, Re

"Um... hello?

nto the foyer, her sharp, hawk-like eyes scanning every inch of the cabi

t-circuited.

cover, I quickly closed the door and put on my best polite smile. "Mr. and Mrs. Sweeney!

ant disgust. "Tea won't be necessary, child. And what is this absurd glass box? The

hurriedly, bringing out water glasses. "I

l me, darling... how is he? Does he sleep in your bed? Does he have any... un

own breath. "

nald barked. "Co

a huffed. "He's been cold as a corpse for centuries-I mean

bizarre comment, the front d

zed in the doorway. His coat was billowing, his eyes blazing with an au

ed, his voice a low, threatening rumbl

her chest. "Cyril! Is that any way to speak to your dea

ade my eyes blur-and placed himself squarely in front of me, his

essive, his chest hard as

two elders. His eyes flickered with a dangerous, unspoken command that seemed to make

umbled, standing up with his cane. "No need

ril, you have mandatory family leave this week. Stay home

velvet, the eccentric coupl

arm was still locked around my waist, his body

t them," Cyril whispered, his