The sun would soon be up, and when it rose, it would rise over a new world, and a new Seraphine. She wore a wreath of black hollyhocks atop her dark curls. Beneath the light of this same not-yet-set moon it lay upon Tryphosa's head, and her blood, still warm, dribbled from the petals like… Continue reading Ritual

The Impossible

For three days and nights the deluge had been unbearable, forcing Valius and the small detachment of Excubitors he commanded to set up camp on the hillside just beyond Coven's Ford. The men grew foul without the labor of marching to distract them from the storm which pelted their tents and howled in their faces… Continue reading The Impossible

Phantasma Non Grata

He introduced himself as Dade, but Margaret didn't really believe that was his name. She couldn't put her finger on what it was—he was polite, soft-spoken, and handsome in a boyish way—but she didn't trust him in the least, and now she rather wanted to return to the picnic. She never should have wondered off.… Continue reading Phantasma Non Grata