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... ithout hesitation while rummaging through her closet for a dress, keeping her back towards him.

He stepped closer, extending his hands Siroos enclosed them around Cassandra’s small waist and pulled her into himself. Burying his nose in the dip of her shoulder, Siroos murmured.

"I wish too." His hands crept up to the straps of her light gown, lazily playing with them at the same time making tingles dance on the very spots. Her body supercharged every time his fingers grazed her. < ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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