RYKER
“Tortum ti tinibres inkocos... Protestis in haninus meis cit…” I chanted in strange language.
The room was covered in shadows, illuminated by the light of black candles arranged perfectly in circles on the floor. I stood at the centre of the candles, my muscular frame bare to the waist, wolf tattoos across my skin. My lips moved in a low chant, the ancient words vibrating through the air like a predator.
““Tortum ti tinibres inkocos... Protestis in haninus meis cit…” I continued louder.
My eyes burned with red light as I completed the incantation. Moments later, a gust of wind blew through my chamber, putting out the candle light and leaving me alone in complete darkness.
A wicked grin spread across my face. “Tonight,” I murmured to the void, my voice thick with satisfaction, “
