"You should have agreed when I was acting nice," his voice, though still the same, carried a sinister tone that sent shivers down her spine.
Madeline couldn't decide whether to cry, plead, or run, especially when the memory of how that Monster had swiftly taken Philemon towards the tree like a flash came rushing back. If she were to run, he would likely catch up with her.
"Please," she whispered, holding Draven more protectively, cradling his head against her chest. "Do not hurt us." Panic enveloped her as she considered various escape plans.
Where was Brimsley? Was there anyone who could come to their rescue?
"Oh no," he shook his head, a more sinister smile stretching across his face. "I will not hurt you, my dear. You are far more important." His gaze then shifted towards Draven, still in his slumber - the poor Vampire King. "But your husband, unfortunately, might suffer a little harm."
