Walking through the Church corridors, Mr. Mischael caressed the scar on the back of his right hand with his left—the scar a Hestor hound had left him in its dying moments.
With his abilities, he could have easily neutralized that attack, yet for some reason, he did not.
Though he had snapped the frenzied hunting dog's neck in the very next second, the scar was indelible. That was why he had come to the Benevolent Church, where a female Priest had cleansed his wound and bandaged it for him.
Passing through the corridors and the hall, standing at the Church's grand entrance, Mischael saw Jason, who was helping Shela down from the carriage, cradling an infant in her arms.
That was his nephew, the new generation of the Mischael family.
Though he bore the Sheringham surname, this fool Jason's child, it was indisputable that he was still Shela's child.
