Alan
I felt a momentary, sharp pang of guilt as I remembered the expression on Susan's face while I dragged Cyril in here.
Susan was a good woman, a kind woman, and she truly believed she was protecting a rebellious daughter from a stern, overbearing father.
She didn't know that the "punishment" she feared was the very thing we both craved.
But as I looked at Cyril, that guilt was swallowed by a much darker, more ravenous hunger.
I stopped with my back to the door, my head tilted toward the ceiling, letting out a long, ragged sigh that felt like it was tearing through my lungs.
The silence here was thick, heavy with the scent of old paper and the sharp, lingering electricity between us.
"You’ve been bad," I began, my voice a low, gravelly vibration that barely sounded like my o
