Young master Damien's pet

Once the butler left the room, Penny couldn't help but shake her head with a smile. She wondered why he thought there was a ghost in the mansion When she, herself had never come to meet one. And even if there was one, the ghost had never come to harm anyone until now which was why she didn't worry much about it.

It was people who were alive that one had to worry about and not the ones who were dead. People who were living were harmful and one could never gauge when they would inflict harm. Damien had been visiting the council lately, saying how the case files had increased due to the vampires and witches but apart from that, there was the problem of switchers.

Looking back down at the envelopes which the butler had come to hand over, she looked at the names on it. Shuffling around one after another to find a female named 'Yuvaine' on it. Staring at it for a good ten seconds, she wondered what the lady had written in here for Damien. She wanted to look at it, but at the same time, it was considered rude to open someone else's letter.

Walking to the table, she placed it on its surface. She wanted to go out, walk to the balcony and look at the scenery outside where the snow had frozen the sea into a thin surface of ice at the top of it. But every time her feet wandered close, her mind reminded her of the two mishaps that took place. Though the sea was frozen due to the snow, there was no telling if she would be plunged inside to never resurface if she were to fall now.

When Damien returned back at the time of the evening, he picked up the letters. Tearing one of them, to say,

"It feels like it was only yesterday that the girl celebrated her birthday. How fast does time fly?"

Penelope was reading a parchment she had received from Sister Jera which could be carried home for her to study that had to be returned back in time once she was done with it. She looked up from the parchment to look at Damien who stood next to her. The candles burned brightly at the desk, the light falling on both of them.

"When is the birthday?" Penelope asked, craning her neck to have a proper look at Damien as he stood close to her. In time, the man leaned forward to place a kiss on her lips, a smile blooming on his lips.

"It is tomorrow. Strange that she decided to celebrate it now. I wonder if it is her second birthday she is celebrating so that she gains some attention to herself," he commented placing back the letter on the desk and then going through the other letters.

"People do that?" here she was where she hadn't celebrated her birthday as the concept was never implemented. It was the usual food, the usual day where her mother wished her and that was it. With the lack of friends she had in her life, there was nothing more to celebrate.

"You would be surprised if you knew the things the aristocrats do just to gain some light and attention on them."

"That is stupid," she laughed not believing it. There were other ways if one was seeing attention. To celebrate birthday twice in a year, wasn't it embarrassing?

"It indeed is. People in the higher class are men and women who are lonely. Even though they have everything, the void of not doing anything fills up and makes them do ridiculous things in life," his eyes were on another letter as he said this, "Let's go tomorrow," he decided to put the letters on the desk.

"What about work?" she asked him.

"I can spare some time before I head to work. I am not the only man who works for the council though I am the only one who can find delicate information. They should be fine without me. How has your parchment reading been going on?" he asked starting to unbutton the cuff buttons before moving to the other buttons on the front.

"I was going through some historical facts of the white witches."

"What did you learn about?" he asked mindlessly pulling off the shirt that he wore to only have his trousers on his body while leaving the upper body bare for her to see. She didn't have to touch him with her fingers to know the firmness of his muscles over the expanse of his chest.

Penny tried to find the words seeing him with no shirt on. She opened her mouth that had gone dry, "Uh," she cleared her throat while trying to her mind straight, "It was about the first generation of white witches who were burnt in the church and other places. Did everyone die? It is as if there is no witch who belongs to the first generation anymore," Damien took the parchment from her hand which she had been reading since this afternoon.

"Most of the white witches were either killed or they killed themselves as they came to know about their transformation. It was a matter about their pride where they didn't want their blood turning dirty like the black witches. I don't think there are any first-generation witches alive anymore. If there was one, the council would hunt and keep them in the council, also the half information in the church would be restored but as I said, a lot of this is probably not there because they didn't want the future generation to know or misuse the knowledge the previous generation white witches knew about."

"What happens with the first generation vampires?" she asked curiously.

"Some live while some die. It is told that the death reapers wait to take the souls of the vampires as they are more expensive than the rest," he handed back the parchment to her.

Seeing him walk away and to the closet of his clothes, Penny couldn't help but let her eyes follow him. Her eyes looking at his back muscles. His shoulders were wide which looked strong and taut, the body tapering as it went down to his waist to have a V like a body.

An unexpected sigh escaped her lips and he suddenly turned his head to catch her looking at him.

"You alright?" he asked, seeing her eyes dilated across the room. He knew the effect he had on her and Damien didn't mind pushing her buttons. Penny nodded at him. Shifting her gaze away and to the parchment to stare at it.

Oh dear God, said Penny in her mind.