The mist suffused the air around Warbling Towers, the family estate of the McDonohugh clan. Hester McDonohugh stepped through the misty air almost as if stepping through a fog. Her body seethed with passion, her breasts heaving with fury. Hair flowing in the October breeze, she breathed in the cold damp air and tried to calm down. An owl screeched and she turned back to gaze at the spires of Warbling Towers, but all she could see was an image of what she had left in the upstairs bedroom of the west wing. For in that room lay the body of her brother, Jethro, bled out and lifeless after she stabbed him furiously at least fifty times. It was the last straw. He had started using her for sex when she was just a little girl, but when she discovered that he had attempted to control her with a slave spell, a binding enchantment that would have had her doing devil-knows-what. No, she wanted control over her life, for once. Killing him was easier than she expected, emotionally, but physically it had taken everything she had in her. The raging energy still surging through her, she knew she would need to clean up the mess she made and destroy the gown she was wearing, but so be it. It was time for the next phase of her life, one in which she reigned as Lady of the House of Warbling Towers, sole heir to the McDonohugh fortune and the last of her name. She would make an heir, but she wouldn’t take some man’s name, no. She would collect the seed from a worthy father and sire a son or daughter to reign after her. It was her time, she thought as the clock struck midnight and she calmly walked to her fate.
October 26, 2022