Alone in his study, Cedric slumped in a chair, legs stretched out in front of the fire. The embers crackled and spat, reflecting his mood. He had much on his mind, the safety of his sisters at the forefront. In one hand he loosely twirled his silver lion's head cane. It was an old habit, one that used to irritate his mother, God rest her soul.

The clock on the mantelpiece ticked in the heavy silence. The sound grated on his ears. He hated an empty house, truly hated it. Since ...