Sebastian Shaw Powers Novels & Stories

Power never collapsed where people were watching. It failed in places no one bothered to look. Sebastian Sebastian did not rush. He never had. The mistake most people made about him was assuming patience meant passivity. They mistook silence for neutrality. They mistook distance for indecision. They were wrong. Sebastian understood something Elara never had. Power was not seized. It was reallocated. He sat alone in a private lounge several floors beneath a building that did not carry his name, scrolling through a sequence of figures that meant nothing to anyone without the right education—and everything to those who understood how empires truly functioned.

The noise was disgusting. “Asher!” I screamed. I moved unthinking. The energy within me boiled yet again, raw and furiously this time, as a reaction to something beneath the surface of fear again. Rage, possession. Love. With burst of strength that no one should be able to possess – certainly not that young – Sebastian hauled Asher up by the back of his shirt. “You never learned,” he said coolly. “Power isn’t force. It’s about control.”

“No, seriously! She's indeed worked her magic on you!” “Why don’t you go join one of your brainless friends and leave me alone?” Unbothered by Sebastian’s usual rudeness, Edwin continued. “You know, she really does have some kind of superpower. Just look at our Old Man over there.” Sebastian's eyebrows shot up as Edwin pointed toward their grandfather. Thomas Woods was actually up on his feet, swaying enthusiastically, waving his walking stick in the air, oblivious to the world around him. The sight was too comical!