Blacksmithandwilson

Chase waited in the darkened tower.  The dragon half waited in cold silence for the tolling of the twelfth hour.  He waited through the chimes.  When the final echo died from the cold stones of his castle, still he waited. ‘It is time,’ he thought to himself.  ‘It is time for Jack Spicer to die.’ One fiercely-clawed hand moved towards the glass sphere that represented his lover’s heart.  Just before touching the rosy glass, Chase hesitated. “Perhaps just a bit longer,” he murmured to himself.  “He might have been delayed on the road.” No a harsh voice demanded.  He knew the price for breaking h