The Kiss Of Draven

Chapter Three: Hidden Beneath

Draven

THE BOLD WISKEY slid down my throat, compelling me, almost setting me alive. I swished it around in the glass, mesmerized by its beauty, by its purpose to pull me in deeper. I inhaled it, wishing, hoping it would erase the smell that was so very much engraved in my head but yet it had only one flaw.

That scent would never be erased.

The moons glow shinned through the large floor to ceiling windows behind my desk, glittering along the dimness of my office. Small cackles of lighting blending with its bright glow perfectly. I could smell the faintness of rain, knowing it would soon start to pour. What could Mother Nature be so sad about?

I ran my hand along my stubbled beard, peering around my dark office, distastefully. Incredibly high shelves upon shelves the color of black decorated the walls, a comfortable seating area that didn't exactly look cozy in that moment doted the right side with two plush grey couches, and a circular glass coffee table in the middle. A fireplace alight with flames, and a tall red chair that curled along the top was off further away, creating a spacious room with purpose.

The left side which included the large black door with deep swirls engraved into its core, was almost bare with nothing but a long black rug dragged over the dark marble floors. Piles of files and papers littered almost every surface. I should probably get more organized. I thought.

I stood from the desk going to pour more of the brown liquor into my cup when I heard footsteps approaching my door.

"Come in," I said as the person outside my door came to a stop.

Walking in with his eyes lowered, showing me nothing but respect, my beta Cosmos. He stood tall in his black warrior attire, red and grey swirls dancing over his black chest armor, and black boots pulled high on his calves over thick black pants with many pockets for weapons. His long dark hair was swept back into a tight braid at the nape of his neck, and his hands clasped behind his back, posture strong. I had wondered if he liked to mimic my stance since he reminded me so much of myself.

"I hate when you do that," Cosmos muttered, still not meeting my eye.

"Brother," I greeted him. "Have you found anything?" I asked ignoring what he said, leaning against my desk. He had been gone for two days. Hope filled me but his hesitation already gave me the answer I was dreading.

"No, sire. There was no intruder on the premises. We've searched every inch of the castle and the outer grounds." He dropped his head as I took a sip from my glass. My eyes finding the moon outside my window again, the rain beginning to pelt down against the ground.

"But that's impossible. I know what I smelled. Magic." I inhaled the whiskey again, sighing when it did nothing for me.

"Could it be someone trying to spy on us?" I frowned.

Pondering on the thought that someone could be trying to find out information about us. To attack us. Rage bubbled within my chest as I watched the faint smell of smoke blow through my nose. Cosmos took a step back.

"It was just an idea, brother. I don't think anyone would be stupid enough to use magic, it is forbidden. Fathers law."

"We must be sure." He nodded. I stalked back and forth in front of the large sleek black desk, my fingers brushing over my beard. Should I tell him the magic smelled heavenly and that it's consuming every single thought in my head. "Do another search around the castle, see if you can smell any magic. We need to make sure whoever is using it isn't popping in and out of the castle." He nodded still keeping his eyes on the ground.