Llewellyn's POV
The snap of my birthgiver's neck brought excitement to my body. I refuse to give her the title of mother or even give her any recognition or honor because she was once my own blood.
To me, my mother had died centuries ago; the mother that I once loved was now just a memory.
I refuse to be associated with this woman or witch.
Her lifeless body lay on the temple's cold white marble floor, and a smile of victory played on my dead, frozen face.
She was finally dead and would never be able to rise again. I had made sure of that.
Selene had provided me with some magic centuries ago, which I now used to trap her soul in a small blue bottle in my hand. Her soul would never be able to escape, and when the time was right, I would find a way to destroy it or send it so far unde
