The Playful Prince
“He was an evil man. If she doubted it before, she knew so now. Slowly, she shook her head in firm denial. There was no way she could do what he asked of her. “Kill me if you will, but I can’t do this for you. There is no way I’m going to have a hand in genocide.” “Yeah, you see, I’m not exactly sure what the word genocide means, Dr. Elliot,” Lord Myrddin answered, waving his hand. His long purple cloak whirled around his feet as he walked. He was dressed similar to Quinn and his brothers, but h...is clothing was tight and had no laces that showed peeks of skin. Rings adorned his fingers and a silver clasp kept the long locks of his hair back from his face. From what she knew of him he had to be several hundred years old, perhaps one of the oldest Var she had yet to meet. By human estimation, he didn’t look a day over forty. He was a handsome man--in a completely demented, went insane three hundred years ago, sort of way. He chuckled softly, and added, “And, honestly, I really don’t care.”MoreLess
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