She watched but felt very strange in her body. There was something else under her skin, something alive and strong and very different from this shape. Salvia had felt it before but allowed it to take her. Now, she was in control. A beast rumbled and breathed her breath, and saw through her eyes. They were the same, in a way. There had never been a time when she had not lived as a monster, as this striped devil who took her when she abandoned herself to these strange drugs and stranger magics.
The man-child was forcing himself where he did not belong. Salvia disliked seeing such terrible disrespect, but her mother was a fiend when it came to allowing such things. Eris was weak when it came to children—even if this man was not such, he resembled one. Fury boiled in her blood.
It was his scent that pulled her back from the edge of disaster. Green eyes trailed away from the corpse, from the witch that was her mother, and found his form slipping into the shadows. Without hesitation, she stepped back from the torrents and followed after him. There was no doubt that she believed this her right; her loyalties were with Sirius alone now, and no longer belonged to the woman who wore the mask of the dead and spoke to smoke and the empty sky.
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