Edit 8/25/14: If you are rereading this, I must apologize again. I changed the names of two members of the vampire Council; see below…


I have been waiting to use this song since I first heard it because I have become a little obsessed with it. If I had to select a single theme for Mitchell and Lucian, this is it.

I recently did a re-watch of the first season and in the second episode there was a scene that really struck me, and I can't believe that I had forgotten it. George and Mitchell are standing in the kitchen when Tully first enters the scene and they're discussing the prospect of him helping George learn how to manage his condition. Mitchell is trying to convince him to take the help and he says the line;

"If someone could teach me ways to control what I am, Jesus Christ, I'd jump at the chance."

I immediately thought of Lucian (whose name means "light") and the entire reason I started writing this series. Even more than just wanting to give Mitchell "a way out," so to speak, of being the monster, I wanted him to have that "someone" to rely on, because there were times in the series that I felt, as much as they loved him, George and Annie weren't enough.

So now I bring you to Lucian and the Council.

For those of you who are like me and like to have a face to go with the names, I have cast my key Council members as follows:

Sir Ian McKellen as Julian, the head of the Council

Patricia Velasquez (from The Mummy) as Nadira

Mads Mikkelsen (from Hannibal) as Stefan

Enjoy!


Chapter 7: The High Road

I told you I was hurt
Bleeding on the inside
I told you I was lost
In the middle of my life

There's times I stayed alive for you
There's times I would've died for you
There's times it didn't matter at all

Will you help me find the right way up
Or let me take the wrong way down
Will you straighten me out
Or make me take the long way around
I took the low road in
I'll take the high road out
I'll do whatever it takes
To be the mistake you can't live without

Standing in the dark
I can see your shadow
You're the only light
That's breaking through the window

There's times I stayed alive for you
There's times I would've died for you
There's times it didn't matter at all…

We'll I'm not gonna give it away
Not gonna let it go, just to wake up someday gone! Gone!
The worst part is looking back
And knowing that I was wrong

Help me find the right way up
Or let me take the wrong way down
Will you straighten me out
Or make me take the long way around
I took the low road in
I'll take the high road out
I'll do whatever it takes
To be the mistake you can't live without…

- The High Road by Three Days Grace


Lucian stands in front of the full length mirror in his room, adjusting his tie. As he finishes doing up the buttons on his suit jacket, he spares a mournful glance at the worn trench coat draped over the chair in the corner. He has never really understood his peers' penchant for formality. It's just another reason he has never been a fan of the politics.

He retrieves a cell phone from an inside pocket, checking the screen one last time before depositing it on the side table. Lucian doesn't like not having it on his person, but he can't really take it in to the meeting. It's not like it would do him much good anyway. The old stone walls of this place are not exactly conducive to decent reception.

The Council occupies an ancient castle deep in the Romanian countryside. It is a place the vampires have occupied for centuries and where most of the more important gatherings are held.

There was a time when Lucian would have enjoyed the archaic beauty of the place, the memories it instilled of ages past, but lately it just feels like a prison.

It has been nearly three months since he came to this place and each passing day causes him more frustration than the last. His elders have certainly never been known to make decisions quickly, but he had hoped that they would better grasp the urgency of the situation at hand.

Instead he has been going around and around in circles with them; attending countless meetings, which accomplished little to nothing, and repeating the same information over and over again.

As he sets off down the ornate halls and descends deeper into the old fortress, he hopes that some sort of decision has finally been made, though he isn't counting on it.

He approaches a massive set of double doors with intricate designs carved into the wood and pauses just outside. It still makes him a bit uncomfortable to venture forth unarmed, and he adjusts his suit jacket, missing the familiar weight of the silver stake he normally keeps against his side.

Finally, he releases a breath and reaches for the handle, pulls the door open, and steps inside.

The members of the Council are seated in a line across a raised platform at the head of the large chamber. There are nine members in total; consisting of the oldest and most esteemed of their kind. Even Lucian does not know the exact ages of those present. Only that they have lived centuries longer than himself.

The oldest and wisest by far is Julian, the head of the Council, who sits directly in the center. At his right hand sits the second of their order and the sole female member of the Council. This is Nadira. It is rumored that she is a direct descendant of the pharaohs of ancient Egypt, and she certainly looks the part with her long ebony hair and dark brown eyes. She is an extraordinarily powerful vampire and compelling leader next to Julian himself and she commands the respect of all who cross her path.

To Julian's left is seated Stefan, the third in rank. His background is distinctly Nordic, though he has never been one to speak of his origins. His soft-spoken behavior belies a fierce cunning and ferocity when the need arises. Those who are wise do well not to mistake his calm and quiet demeanor for weakness. He is one of the strongest in mind and body of his kind.

Lucian closes the door behind him as he enters and approaches the Council, moving to stand in the center directly before Julian.

"Good evening, Lucian," Julian greets at his approach.

"Julian," he answers, inclining his head in a respectful nod. "Councilmen. My lady," he adds, offering Nadira a short bow which she acknowledges with a regal tilt of the head. "You wanted to see me?"

"We did," Julian replies. "The Council has reached a decision."

Lucian stands a little straighter, his eyes scanning the faces of the various members of the Council, searching for any sign in their unreadable expressions.

"As you are aware, we have been investigating the matter of Edgar Wyndam for quite some time now," Julian continues. "The result of those efforts have proved… inconclusive. Wyndam has done very well to cover his tracks and we believe that he has gone deep into hiding. We will, of course, continue to monitor the situation, however we have all agreed that nothing further need be done at this time."

Lucian stares in shocked silence for a moment, trying to determine if he understood correctly. "With all due respect," he begins, trying to maintain rapport, "that cannot be the Council's final decision. To do nothing? Wyndam-"

"Edgar Wyndam is an upstart," Nadira cuts in. "Nothing more. He made a relatively small play for power and he failed. We see no reason to waste any further efforts in seeking him out."

"We have come to understand that Herrick was responsible for what occurred in Bristol," Stefan adds. "As that problem has been eliminated, thanks in good part to your own efforts, we can see no cause to pursue any further action at this time. That is, unless you have had some new information come to light that you wish to share with us?"

Lucian shakes his head, clenching his jaw in an effort to contain his agitation. "I do not."

"Then consider the matter closed," Julian responds with a finality to his tone.

"Very well," he responds. "I shall respect the Council's decision." He gives a curt nod and turns to depart, but Julian calls him back.

"You have not been dismissed," is the mild reprimand. "There is another matter that we would like to discuss."

Lucian returns to his former place and inclines his head by way of apology, but says nothing, choosing instead to simply wait for Julian to continue.

"It has come to our attention that you appointed John Mitchell to the head of the clan in Bristol as Herrick's replacement. Is this true?"

Lucian fights to keep his expression neutral as he feels as if the floor just dropped out from under him. He was not expecting this to become an issue. "It is," he answers evenly.

"Your reason being?" Julian prompts.

"After we removed Herrick from power, someone needed to take over the clan to restore order."

"And you felt that someone as young and inexperienced as John Mitchell would be equipped to handle such a task?" Stefan interjects. "One who has not been a vampire for a full century? Had you no other options?"

"I felt that he was the right person for the job," Lucian responds matter-of-factly. "In truth, he was one of the few I felt I could trust, given the circumstances, but I believed that Mitchell had the potential to lead them."

"So, you made this decision based on your faith in him?" Nadira responds, studying him curiously. "That is your reasoning?"

"Yes," he answers firmly, doing his best to hide the building agitation in his voice. "And as far as I have been made aware, he has done much to bring the situation in Bristol under control."

"Not alone," Stefan puts in. "In fact, it is only Ivan's presence that has kept us from interceding in the matter."

"Utilizing the aid of one who is more experienced does not make him any less of a leader," he defends. "Rather, I would say that it proves his quality."

"That does not make his appointment any less of a rash decision on your part," Julian responds. "You assigned the least qualified person the task of taking control of a clan that had descended into absolute chaos. You put everyone at risk. And your only justification for this is that you had faith in his potential? Lucian," he leans forward in his seat and his voice softens. "You spent years chasing after Herrick, and now that that threat has been eliminated, you pursue another. I believe that your motivations for this as well as your appointment of John Mitchell to the head of the Bristol clan are the same. You seek to protect your own. You have let your emotions cloud your judgment."

Lucian takes a breath and averts his gaze, choosing instead to stare at a spot on the floor. "What would you have me do?"

There is a pause and Julian studies him intently, his expression unreadable. "Go home," he answers, not unkindly. "Let us decide what needs defending for a while."


The Council members file out of the chamber in silence but Lucian hangs back, Julian having requested he stay behind. As the last councilman exits, Julian rises from his seat.

"Walk with me," he says with a wave of his hand, heading toward the opposite exit.

The two wander out into the hall and Lucian easily falls into step beside the older man's long strides.

"I know that you are unhappy with our decision," Julian begins. "Especially for the amount of time that you have waited for it."

"I will not argue the will of the Council," he answers simply.

"No." Julian shakes his head, allowing a small smile. "Ever the soldier; you never act against orders. Except, perhaps, where Mitchell is concerned."

Lucian says nothing to this.

"You know, most of them don't understand your attachment," he continues. "Why you feel such a level of responsibility towards him when you are not his Sire."

"I am the one who got him away from Herrick," Lucian answers. "I gave him a second chance. So, yes, I do feel responsible."

Julian nods. "Yes, I suppose that is understandable. Or is it not, as I suspect, more to do with your son?"

Lucian stops in his tracks, taken completely off guard by this statement, and he is suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of memories that he had not allowed himself to think on for centuries. "I hadn't-"

"Thought about it?" Julian nods. "I suspected as much. Lucian," he turns to face him, lowering his voice. "You had lost so much when you first came to us all those years ago. They say that time heals all wounds, but nothing is ever completely forgotten. Not even for those of us who have seen so many ages of this world pass away. No parent should ever have to bury their child, especially one so young as Tristan was. Time may have helped you to forget it in part, but a loss like that leaves a hole. Now I believe that, subconsciously, you have found a way to fill it. Perhaps it was fate that brought you and Mitchell together; you both needed each other. Now, all I am saying is that you need to be cautious. Understand that the past does influence your actions in the present. I think that you fear to lose him as you lost your son. Do not let that fear cloud your judgment. Especially when the decisions that you make impact more than your own life."

Lucian stands in silence, still feeling a little stunned. He simply nods.

"You have been fighting the good fight for a very long time now," Julian continues. "I think it's time to let it rest for a while. Go home, Lucian. Stand watch from there if you must. But I think that it is time to stop running." He reaches out, patting him on the shoulder, and without another word, Julian turns on his heel and heads off in the direction they came, leaving Lucian alone with his thoughts.


Lucian sits at the gate in the center of a long terminal, waiting to board a flight for London. He didn't have decent enough reception to make any calls before he got to the airport, nor did he have much time, and he decides to try once more before he boards.

When he turns the phone on, the little voicemail icon appears on the screen. He scrolls over the notification, sees the date on the message, and he frowns. It's from yesterday. He presses 'play' and holds the phone to his ear.

Lucian can't help but smile a little as he listens to Mitchell's greeting. He always gets so flustered when he has to leave voicemail. But his amusement soon changes to concern as the message progresses; not only for content of the message itself, but for the fact that Mitchell sounds completely exhausted. That and he knows that whatever he's telling him, the full reality of it is probably worse.

The message ends and Lucian gives it a moment to sink in, staring at the phone in his hand. He presses a few buttons on the keypad and raises the phone to his ear, listening to the ringing on the other line. He heaves a sigh when it goes to voicemail and waits for the tone.

"Mitchell, I got your message. I'm sorry I missed you. I've actually been trying to reach you since last night, but I couldn't get a signal. Listen, there's too much to explain in this message, but the Council finally made a decision about Wyndam. They decided that it isn't worth pursuing at this point. Apparently they don't feel he is enough of a threat," he sighs. "Like I said, we'll talk more about it later. As for the situation there... I wish you had said something sooner. You know I would have understood. In fact, I blame myself. I should never have put you under so much pressure. I see that now and I'm sorry. If you feel that Ivan is a suitable replacement, than I trust your judgment. Personal feelings aside," he laughs. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you; I'm coming home. I'll be boarding a flight for London shortly, so I should be in Bristol within a few hours. Look, we'll figure this out, alright? Don't worry. I'll see you soon."


A hooded figure moves swiftly through the streets of Totterdown, eyes fixed on the massive structure looming just ahead. As she approaches the doors to the old warehouse, she takes one last look over her shoulder to ensure herself that she hasn't been followed. Satisfied, she pulls open the heavy door and slips inside.

She moves silently through the darkness, vampire eyes guiding her to the end of a long corridor where a single light can be seen beneath the door. She turns the handle and steps inside the back office, blinking at the sudden brightness.

"Were you seen?" asks the man behind the desk.

She shakes her head, brown hair falling loose at her shoulders as she pulls back her hood.

"Good. I would not want to tip them off before we are ready. Now, what news do you bring me?"

"They're meeting tonight. Mitchell has some important announcement to make. He sent for everyone," she answers.

The man smiles. "It looks as if we have the opportunity that we've been waiting for," he says. "Well done, Cara."

"Thank you, sir," she answers, giving an awkward little curtsy. "So what happens now? How do we get in without anyone seeing?"

"You forget, I set Herrick up in that place long before John Mitchell ever set foot inside. I know my way in and out of there better than anyone," he explains. "You just play your part. Leave the rest to me and my men. And please, call me Wyndam. We're in this together now, you and I. Mitchell and his followers will be out of the way soon enough. Then we can both step out in the open."

"And what about Lucian?" Cara asks nervously. "When he finds out about Mitchell, won't he come after us?"

"Oh, don't you worry about him, my dear," he answers. "Lucian will be a thousand miles away when our plan is carried out. And when he does get here, well, you just leave him to me."

Cara smiles.


Mitchell steps outside into the gathering dark, taking a deep breath of the brisk evening air. He double checks that he has his keys and his phone before pulling the door closed behind him and stepping out onto the street.

As he makes the trek to the funeral parlor, he can't help feeling nervous about the meeting to come. He spent all afternoon rehearsing what he wanted to say and nothing had sounded right. At this point, he has given up over thinking it and just hopes the words will come when it's time. All he knows is that he can't wait to get this whole thing over with.

It is pretty dark by the time he catches sight of the familiar structure and he can already hear a murmur of voices coming from the inside. It sounds like most of them have arrived already. He pauses just outside the door and pulls out his phone one last time. There are no missed calls or messages on the screen and he sighs. He still hasn't heard from Lucian since he left that message last night and he's starting to think maybe he should have put off this meeting until he had. He would feel a lot better about the whole thing if he had gotten the chance to talk to him first, but it's too late now.

Reluctantly, he holds the power button until the phone switches itself off and shoves it back in his pocket. Then he takes a deep breath and opens the door.

As soon as Mitchell steps inside, he is greeted by several of the assembled clan members nearest the door. He pauses to greet them before catching sight of Ivan waving him over from the other side of the room. He excuses himself and winds his way through the crowd, following after Ivan as he leads the way to a back room.

"I thought I would give you another chance to change your mind," says Ivan as he pulls the door closed behind them. "Are you sure you still want to go through with this?"

Mitchell nods, taking a seat in a nearby chair. "I'm sure. I believe it's the right decision. They're much better off with you."

"Very well," he answers. "Have you spoken to Lucian about any of this?"

Mitchell gives him a look, but Ivan simply stares back at him expectantly. He sighs. "I couldn't reach him," he admits, choosing to stare at a spot on the floor. "I'm just going with my instincts on this one."

"You know he's never exactly been my biggest fan," Ivan comments with a smirk. "I just wouldn't want him to think that I pushed you into anything."

"He won't. I'll handle it," he answers. "Believe me, I'm going to have a lot to explain when I finally do get through to him. You just worry about what needs done here."

Ivan nods. "It seems we each have enough to be getting on with then. Come on," he says, patting him on the shoulder. "We'd better get out there."

Mitchell rises from his seat and follows him to the door. "Ivan," he says as the older man reaches for the handle. "Thank you. For everything."

Ivan simply inclines his head, giving him a small smile, and pushes open the door. "After you," he says, and the two step back out into the parlor.

"Ok everyone, listen up," Mitchell calls, gaining the attention of the room as he moves to stand in the center of the crowd with Ivan close behind. "I know you're probably wondering why I asked you all here tonight. This has been… an interesting journey for me over the past couple of months. But as they say, everything has to end sometime…"

As Mitchell continues, Ivan's attention is distracted by a sudden flicker of light at his feet. He tilts his head to one side, looking down into the grate on the floor until he catches sight of red letters glaring up at him from a small screen below that simply spell out 'hello.' He follows the cable attached to the screen with his gaze until they come to an end… attached to a bundle of crude looking explosives nestled in the corner. His eyes widen as the realization dawns and he knows that there is no time for anyone to escape.

"Get down!" he shouts as he throws himself bodily on top of Mitchell, and the pair go crashing to the floor as the explosion tears through building. Then Ivan knows no more.


It is nearly eleven o'clock when Lucian catches sight of the familiar corner house in Totterdown. As he approaches the door, he can hear a pair of voices conversing in the kitchen. When he knocks on the door, the voices suddenly cease and he can hear the sound of chairs scraping against the floor. He smiles as his vampire hearing makes out the half-whispered argument being held on the other side of the door.

"Let me get it. Annie! You don't know who it is, they may not be able to see you!"

"I want to see who could be calling this late and it's dark outside. I can't look through the window without being obvious."

"It'll be more obvious if you open that door and whoever it is sees nothing on the other side. Annie!"

The door bursts open suddenly and Lucian almost laughs at the sight of Rory scrambling after the determined brunette as she stands fully in the doorway.

Brown eyes brighten as Annie takes in the sight before her and she breaks into a wide grin. "Lucian!"

He barely has time to set his bag down before Annie all but throws herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck.

"Hello, Annie," he laughs, returning the hug.

"For goodness sake, Annie, let him get in the door!" Rory says with amusement.

Annie relinquishes her hold, looking a little sheepish. "Sorry," she says, stepping to the side. "Come in!"

Lucian picks up his bag and steps inside, setting it down in the entryway as Annie closes the door behind him. "Hello, Rory," he says, greeting the younger man with a hug.

"How are you, mate?" he responds, clapping him on the back.

"Just glad to be back," Lucian answers. "And how have you been holding up here?"

"Great," says Rory. "Things have been going good. Well, minus some recent setbacks, but I have hope we'll work it out." He exchanges a glance with Annie who pats him on the arm reassuringly.

"Mitchell never told us you were coming," Annie comments, half for the purpose of changing the subject. "But then, he hasn't said much of anything to any of us lately, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"I'm afraid you'll have to blame me for that," Lucian responds. "I didn't know I was coming until last night and I haven't been able to reach him. I even tried a couple of times since I landed in London, but it just goes straight to voicemail."

"See!" she says, giving Rory an I-told-you-so sort of look.

Rory suppresses a grin and spares Lucian a sideways glance as if to say, here it comes.

"He'll have turned it off again," she continues. "I've told him, I said, 'Mitchell, you can set the phone on silent. That way, if there's an emergency or something comes up, we can still reach you.' So what does he do? He turns off the bloody phone! Honestly, Lucian, I hope you'll give him a good talking to about some things when he gets back, because lately I could just slap him."

"Ok, Annie," is the placating response, as he tries not to laugh. "Where is Mitchell, anyway?"

"The funeral parlor," she answers disdainfully. "He spends more time there than he does at home anymore. He said he had some big important meeting to go to tonight. I didn't ask."

Lucian gives an understanding nod. "I think I know," he says. "He called me last night. Unfortunately, the reception was so bad where I was staying that I didn't get the message until I was ready to board the flight to London and I haven't been able to reach him since. Annie, do you know how long ago he left?"

"It's been hours," she responds, her brow creasing as her annoyed expression shifts to one of mild concern. "Actually, now that you mention it, I thought he'd have been back by now. I mean, he acted like he was coming back. But he doesn't always lately."

Lucian nods as he allows this new information to sink in. "Alright," he begins. "Well, listen, I think I should-"

He breaks off as he hears the sound of a key turning more forcefully in the lock than seems necessary, and suddenly the front door flies open, revealing George as he steps inside looking winded. He freezes as he catches sight of the trio standing in the living room and his eyes flick from one to the next like he's counting heads.

"Has Mitchell come home yet?" George asks, and there is a definite edge to his voice. "Has anyone seen him?"

"No," Annie says quietly. "We were just talking-"

"George, what's happened?" Rory cuts in with more urgency than he usually displays.

Lucian glances from one to the other, the tension between them setting him on high alert.

George closes the door behind him and steps into the living room, collapsing into a chair like his legs can't hold him any longer.

Rory crosses the room in a few easy strides and kneels down in front of him. "George?"

"I was finishing out my shift and I happened to pass by one of the television sets in the emergency room," he begins, staring at a spot on the floor. "The news was on. I would have just kept on walking, but the image of the building on the screen caught my eye. I recognized it. It was the funeral parlor where all the vampires meet. Only-" his voice breaks and Rory rests a hand on his knee, urging him to continue. "Only, it looked like a bomb went off. The front of the building was all blown out, the whole place was in flames. I tried calling Mitchell, but he didn't answer. I left work and ran the whole way to the funeral parlor. By the time I got there, it looked mostly cleared out, but the whole place was roped off and I couldn't get near it, so I ran home. I was hoping he'd be here." His voice breaks again and he looks up, eyes locking with a pair of steel blue. "Lucian-"

He crosses to George, leaning down to eye level, and drops a hands on his shoulder. "George," he begins gently. "When you got to the scene, did you see anything?"

George shakes his head miserably. "There were still a lot of emergency personnel and people standing around watching. And, like I said, it was all roped off. I couldn't get closer. But I didn't really wait around, I was hoping he had come home."

"Ok." He takes a breath. "Well, we don't know anything for certain. I'm gonna go back there myself. They may have all cleared out by now."

Lucian straightens and heads toward the door, checking the inside pocket of his jacket as he goes.

Rory follows after him. "I'll go with you."

"No," he answers, lowering his voice. "Rory, I'd feel better if you'd stay and look after the others."

He frowns. "Do you think this could be some sort of attack?"

"I don't know," Lucian responds. "But we can't be too careful. Please, will you look after them?"

Rory nods. "I will."

"Thank you." He glances into the living room where George and Annie are huddled together and it is difficult to tell who is consoling whom. "George, Annie," he calls. "All of you stay inside. Don't worry, I'll find him."

Rory opens the door for him and Lucian steps through. "Good luck," he says, clapping the older man on the shoulder.

Lucian gives him a nod. "Lock the door. Don't answer for anyone you don't absolutely trust."

"Got it."

Lucian steps out onto the pavement as Rory closes the door behind him and he hears the lock turn. He takes a brief moment to get his bearings, allowing all of his vampire senses to fully take over. Then without a single look back, he takes off into the night hoping that he isn't too late.


So how much do you guys hate me right now? Honestly though, blowing them up wasn't my idea, you can blame canon. I just use elements of canon for my own evil devices. ;)

If you were wondering why I chose Romania as the location for the Council, I don't have much of a reason. I was thinking more east, and then I thought 'Romania,' partly because I do actually have Romanian heritage on my mother's side. Then I realized that Dracula's Castle is in Romania, and it struck me funny. Plus when I googled it I saw lots of other pretty castles. So there you have some insight into how my brain works. :P

Have I given you a bit more insight into Lucian's character? I have quite a bit of his back-story well thought out in my head, and I'm still deciding when/how I wish to present it in full detail. I probably won't really get into it until the final installment of the series, or I may just do it as a separate one-shot. I haven't decided yet. But I hope this new information gave you a better idea of where he's coming from.

Looking at my reviews from the last chapter I do feel a bit guilty. I got a couple of comments about how much shit Mitchell has been through lately and I sort of cackled maniacally and returned to my evil plans. (BTW, I really have meant to respond to reviews, but I have been writing SO OBSESSIVELY on this that I still haven't gotten around to it because I have a tendency to write novels as responses. So, I just wanted to say, SORRY and just know that I love you all.)

I am plagued by two types of plot bunnies. There are the evil plot bunnies, which pretty well resemble the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, and then there are the fluffy plot bunnies. If you look at my writing, it all pretty much either consists of pain, drama, and angst; or fluff, cuddles, and tickles. There is no in-between. SUFFICE IT TO SAY the evil plot bunnies won this round.

SO how much fluff do you guys need (want) in the next chapter to make up for the pain I have caused? Because I'm still deciding. There will be a fair bit of angst in the next chapter, mind you, BUT I have some ideas for some fluff scenes to balance it out. I'm just not quite certain what the appropriate level of fluff is for this… (I'm biased cuz I like to write it. :3) So let me know!

Anyway, LONG A/N IS LONG, my apologies. I had a lot to say on this one. :3

As always, thank you for reading and I thrive on your feedback.

Expect the next chapter soon! :)