Chapter 15
The Entity's Claim
The sorcerer's possessiveness grows. He speaks of binding Thea to the manor, of making her his, echoing his claim over her mother. Thea feels both fear and a strange, burgeoning desire.
The air in the library hung thick and still, a velvet shroud woven from dust motes and forgotten centuries. Thea traced the spines of leather-bound tomes, her fingers leaving faint trails on surfaces that hadn't felt a human touch in decades. Each book was a silent sentinel, guarding secrets she was only beginning to comprehend. The sorcerer’s presence was a constant hum beneath the surface of her awareness, a low thrumming that vibrated in her bones, a counterpoint to the ache in her heart. He was everywhere and nowhere, a phantom limb attached to her very being.
“You linger,” his voice, a silken strand of moonlight, brushed against her ear. It was a sound that both soothed and unsettled, a lullaby sung by a serpent.
Thea flinched, her hand flying to her throat. She hadn't heard him approach, hadn't felt the shift in the air that usually preceded his manifestation. But then, he rarely needed to announce himself anymore. He was a part of the house, and now, it seemed, a part of her. “I’m… looking,” she managed, her voice a thin reed against the silence.
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