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Sarah’s hand rested on her dad’s stomach, firm with muscle but covered with a bit of body fat he couldn’t help with given his busy days. She slid her hand up and down, enjoying the feeling of his hair rubbing against her skin. Wriggling her face even closer she brought her head right up to his armpit, her nose a few inches away from the hair and sniffed. It was a bit tarter than his usual body odour from the sweat, but it was also a lot stronger which was what she really enjoyed. She dared to move her face even closer, until she was almost touching it and breathed deeply. Sarah was well on her way to forgetting that nasty dream as she inhaled her father’s scent, but on her next breath his hairs trembled and tickled her nose, causing her to pull back a bit. She didn’t want to risk sneezing and waking up her dad. He needed the sleep.

“She was crying, begging me to stop, saying that I was hurting her. I just laughed, telling her she should be grateful to receive my affection, and that nothing in her life would compare to the glory of bearing my child. Galvin always told me that it didn’t matter what happened to the weak; it was our birthright to take what we wanted because we were superior in blood and magic. I wanted to believe him, because with him, I wasn’t alone. We had fun, we laughed, and we dismissed everyone and everything that got in our way. I wanted to believe that there was nothing wrong with us, even if, deep down, I knew the truth.

“Stay there,” I said, maybe a bit too bossily. “There is something else I want to do.”