Thursday, April 19th : Just after Midnight
White-hot rage had burned through his veins, blinding him.
In the months that he had been gone they had forgotten him, forgotten everything he had taught them, everything they had sworn to him.
His brides had forsaken him.
Rose had been with another. Daphne had given herself to the wizard Potter, and fouled her body with his spawn. Izabel, his Izabel, was about to bind herself to that abomination Remus Lupin.
He had felt, rather than heard, the panic eating at Rose as the others had left last night. The urge to strike, to take what was his and to kill the fourth, had been strong, but the memory of the last time he had fought the wizards had stilled him.
The sun had not set at the time, his strength had been low, and Roman had known that if the wizards had come looking for their missing women, he would not have been able to fight them and keep all three brides under his control.
It had pained him to let Izabel and Daphne leave, knowing they would return to the tainted embraces of Roman's enemies, but there had been no other choice.
He had underestimated them once. He would not make that mistake again.
United in their anger, the wizards and their allies had nearly overcome him, but divided and unaware of the danger until it was too late...
That thought alone kept him silent and hidden in Rose's bedroom, waiting for her to return.
Then, he had taken his first bride.
Rose would help him, she would be his ally, and together they would claim the others and kill the wizards.