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unhappiness continued to brew.
                  “I came as quickly as you called , f ather , ” Samanthŕa replied . “I wish you would have sent someone else other than Monéaklá , though . You know how I feel about her.” She prepared herself for whatever may come. Small, truthful chatter ing words only bought her more time.
                  He sat there saying nil while h is expression remained unreadable . H e was l arge , but very lean and extremely alluring for a man who held the reflection of forty -Phãegen-years . Lengthy sable hair hung down powerful shoulders. His large pale blue eyes were penetrating as alway s and his features resembled th ose of a Grecian sculpture .
                  And a t last, he spoke. “I knew if I sent her , you would be tripping over yourself to leave. An yone else and you might have taken longer . . . attempting to pick their brains, instead of asking me directly .”
                  “You know me so well.” She smiled sweetly , and without knowing it, work ed the charms she inherited from her mother.
                  "Do I?" Dĩas stood , black boots banging to the floor . They were tall, leading up ove r his knee, blending with matching pants and gathered shirt. He grabbed his jacket from behind him, a multicolored spun thing that had long ta il s in the back, giving him a wicked edg e of rakishness .
                  "Do you what, father?"
                  “ K now you so well ? "
                  "What sort of thing is that to ask?" She played coy.
                  " Sometimes I wonder. " He paused, perhaps dissecting her with his mind. And perhaps that failed, for he moved onto other things. " Regar dless, t he festival is called off for tonight. I assume you have noticed the storm?”
                  Hidden panic gripped her chest. “How can the festival be called off? The Phãegens are already lighting the fires , ” s he told him. He cannot do this. We will lose the Lycãons forever if he does. Evil shall pick our bloodlines off one by one, then . Divided, we are destroyed . "The rituals are--"
                  “Let me put it another way , then . The fes tival is called off for the families dominated by the Strygĩ and not by their beast. It’s not safe. "
                  "But f ather, it is our duty," she tried another approach, "To protect the Phãegens and--"
                  " If the bloody M oppães of nature wish to go tramping about when there is danger afoot, so be it. But know this; our b loodlines will not be protecting them th is night nor anything else foolish enough to go traipsing about . We shall keep to our Realm s . ” He raised a daring brow.
                  "Danger or not, we should not defy the Goddess. Tonight is sacred. I t is Beal-Tene-- ”
                  “ Do not begin to lecture me on the Goddess. I , more so than you, know her ways. This matter is finished. It’s not open to debate. " He turned his back, as if turning yet another page of ever-changing subjects. "I have to attend a meeting in the Higher Realm s. This storm brings great concern. We ," he spoke of those with great power, "C annot trace the source of it. We cannot connect an imprint to anyone or anything that we know. Items of great importance are missing. Items of powerful importance are missing. Which brings me as to why I summoned you here -- "
                  "Oh?"
                  "Y ou wouldn’t know anything about this , would you? ” He whipped around like a snake striking, staring Samanthŕa directly in the eyes . . . towering over .
                  “Are you accusing me of starting this storm? " If only she had so much power . . .
                  "Am I?" A brow rose to high dept hs .
                  " If I had, then my imprint would