Antigone looked again at Omar, now studying his orange glowing soul. A trill of anticipation caused the hairs to prickle on the back of her neck. Touching and taking a soul was something she had always forbidden herself to do. Antigone hesitated. Omar’s soul, though broken, was as gorgeous as he was physically. It shimmered with hundreds of orange hues. It called to her. It sang a siren song that seemed to beckon her irresistibly.
How have I ignored this all these years?
MAGICAL CREATIONS - COMING 7th OCTOBER