Chapter 17

I had asked the question softly. The next moment, a pressure far stronger than Cyril's erupted from me. It was the pure, overwhelming dominance of a White Wolf. "Ugh—" The command backfired. Cyril felt as if his chest had been struck by a sledgehammer. Blood spurted from his mouth, staining the pristine sheets. He stared at me in horror, his body shaking beyond his control. I glanced at him coldly, then picked up the bloodied tray and walked out after lifting the curtain behind me. ... Night had fallen. Deep in the Sanctuary, I stepped barefoot into the water at the Moonlit Spring. Cyril's scent still clung to me, and it made my skin crawl. I had to wash it away in the sacred spring. Behind me, the bushes rustled. Cyril staggered forward, clutching his chest. "Sylvia..." He stopped at the edge of the spring, watching me in the water. "We need to talk." I scooped up a handful of water and let it trickle down my arm without even looking back. "There's nothing to talk ab