Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Elena
I woke to warmth. Lucifer was kissing me. He smiled when he saw my eyes open. "Awake?"
I hummed in response, still carrying his heat, tingles spreading through me—comfortable. So sex could be gentle like this. He kissed my forehead and pulled me closer.
"Sleep a little longer."
"It's the Harvest Festival today. We need to get ready." I reminded him, though I didn't move.
Lucifer bit my ear. "Then you're about to have your own harvest." His voice dropped low, palm covering my belly, rubbing gently as he said with deliberate suggestion, "All this is mine. One won't be enough."
Heat flooded my face. I shoved him. He laughed, low in his throat, and his tongue slipped into my mouth again, kissing me deep.
The day of the Harvest Festival, the sun blazed bright—like molten amber poured from the sky, coating every inch of the garden grass.
Ribbons twisted around columns and branches, gold and crimson, rustling in the breeze.
Lilies hung in clusters from trellises, sunlight filtering through thin petals in warm halos.
White cloths covered the long tables, piled high with roast venison, honeyed apples, fresh-baked wheat bread.
The smells mingled together, rushing warm into your face.
Silver pine nobles wandered into the garden, laughing and talking, their fine clothes moving across the lawn like a slow-flowing watercolor.
The children had lost patience long ago, chasing each other around the tables until their mothers scolded them softly, then they laughed and ran off again.
I stood beside Lucifer, feeling the warmth radiating from his arm through his coat.
Today he wore a formal black jacket with a silver wheat-sheaf pin at the collar, his hair combed neater than usual, his shoulders sharp as a ruler's edge in the sunlight.
He glanced down at me, gaze sliding from my brow to the corner of my mouth, then reached over.
His fingertips caught mine, squeezed once, released, then pressed against the back of my hand like he was confirming something.
I looked up at him. The curve of his mouth was barely there, but it was there. He said quietly, "Nervous?"
"A little," I answered honestly, voice even lower. "They're all watching me."
"Let them watch," he said, the faintest trace of amusement in his tone. "You're Luna. They're supposed to watch you." He turned his face away, scanning the crowd on the lawn, but I noticed his feet shift half an inch toward me, his shoulder almost touching mine.
He was paying attention to these details now. I bit my lip and smiled.
Liam stood on my other side in a pale suit, his bow tie crooked—he'd tried tying it several times and still couldn't get it straight, finally giving up and standing there clutching it.
I crouched down to redo it, threading my fingers through the ribbon while he stayed silent, eyes fixed on my face.
When I finished and looked up, he was still staring, cheeks puffed out, lips moving.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
He said quietly, "You look pretty today."
I froze, then couldn't help laughing, reaching out to ruffle his hair. He dodged slightly but didn't actually move away. The tips of his ears turned red. As I stood and my fingers left his bow tie, he suddenly tugged at my skirt.
"Elena, I want to—" he called, his tone serious.
"Yes?"
His mouth opened, closed, then he dropped his head and mumbled, "Nothing. I'll tell you later."
The little guy had secrets now.
"Okay," I said, couldn't resist poking his cheek. Liam blinked, face flushing, looking shy.
Before the feast officially began, Lucifer stepped forward. He didn't get on the platform, just stood at the end of the long table and raised his voice slightly. The surrounding conversations dropped away like an invisible hand had swept over them, layer by layer, until silence fell.
Lucifer spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but every word rang clear, like stones dropping into still water.
He said, "Today is Reserpine's Harvest Festival.
The weather is good. The harvest is good.
We're here because this land welcomes us, and because we stand together.
" He paused, gaze sweeping across the nobles' faces before settling on me.
"I am fortunate to have my mate, Elena, standing beside me.
She joins us in welcoming this day. May Silver pine be abundant year after year. May we trust one another."
His palm opened toward me, facing up—an invitation, a declaration.
The people around us began to smile. Someone raised a glass.
Someone applauded softly. Those gazes fell on me, less probing and testing than before, more warmly accepting.
My wolf sat up inside me, tail swaying slowly behind.
I pressed my lips together, holding back a smile, but that tight place in my chest quietly loosened.
Then I placed my hand in his. The nobles bowed in unison.
"Blessings to the Alpha and Luna. To Silver pine, to Hale. Prosperity eternal."
Lucifer gripped my hand. We made the first cut into the roast venison, the silver blade meeting the charred skin with a crisp sound. The first piece was a blessing. He gave it to me. I divided it into three portions for him, Liam, and myself.
The conversations rose again like tide rushing back in.
I lifted my wine glass and sipped—local Silver pine fruit wine, sweet and tart, carrying a warm aftertaste.
I drank a bit more than I meant to, head pleasantly fuzzy.
I glanced toward where Liam had been sitting—empty.
His bread still sat at the table's edge, one small bite taken, the edge already dried and curling.
I set down my glass, gaze cutting through the crowd toward the swing, then to the closed studio door.
Where did he go?
Unease surged up. A maid passed with a wine pitcher. I stopped her. "Have you seen Liam?"
She bowed slightly. "Luna, I saw him running across the lawn earlier. And then he was gone—probably playing hide and seek."
I nodded, but that taut string inside pulled tighter.
I stood, activating the kinship sense between wolves.
Sunlight filtered through leaves onto my eyelids, warm and solid.
I let my wolf search—it arched its back inside me, ears pricked, seeking.
It found him. That direction. Deep in the garden, behind the holly bushes.
I opened my eyes and ran that way. When the stone path curved past the holly, I saw him. Liam had his back to me, doing something.
"Liam." I walked over and crouched down. "What are you doing?"
Liam said quietly, "I found an ant nest."
I smiled. Liam's head was round, his hair soft—looked like it would feel nice. I suddenly remembered what he'd started to say earlier. "What did you want to tell me?"
Liam looked nervous. He looked at me, glanced away, but didn't avoid me completely.
I waited patiently. Finally, Liam spoke—stuttering, hopeful, careful. "I was wondering if I could call you—"
His words cut off. I shot to my feet, grabbed him, and dodged the attack from behind.
I stumbled several steps, shielding Liam behind me.
The alcohol's fog vanished instantly. I stared coldly at two men in dark clothes.
They stood like they'd been waiting, faces blank.
Liam froze, face white as paper, shoulders shaking hard.
"Goddamn wolves," one of them said. "All of you should die."
The Butcher Squad.
Instantly, my fingernails lengthened, canines pushing from my gums. My vision narrowed, wind and distant music compressed into muffled background noise. I only heard my breathing. The man charged, blade flashing, stabbing toward my shoulder. I didn't dodge—grabbed his wrist and flung him aside.
The other man circled around me—heading for Liam.
I let out a piercing howl, but the next second, the one I'd thrown came at me again. "Liam!" I roared, watching helplessly as Liam was knocked flying, landing face-down on the grass.
I slammed the two men aside and rushed to Liam, retracting my wolf features. Trembling, I knelt and turned him over. Liam's eyes were closed, lips bloodless, his shirt torn open across the back in a long gash from left shoulder to right hip. Deep red blood spread rapidly, trailing black vapor.
Wolfsbane.
I snapped my gaze to the two men. They lay on the ground. One's mouth twitched slightly, like he wanted to smile.
Then footsteps rushed from the garden entrance—chaotic, heavy, punctuated by the clank of scabbards against metal. Lucifer's voice cut through the bushes, breathless and sharp. He shouted, "Liam!"
Guards poured in. The men were forced face-down, arms wrenched behind their backs. One turned his head, gaze crossing dirt and fallen leaves to land on my face. He grinned. His voice wasn't loud, but in the sudden silence, everyone heard clearly. "The task you gave us is complete."
As soon as he finished, black blood seeped from his mouth. The other collapsed simultaneously. Guards tried to pry their mouths open—too late. Dark blood soaked into the grass roots.
I froze. Someone tore Liam from my hands. Someone shouted "Healer!" Chaos, panic, fear. Sunlight still poured over me, but I felt frozen.
"Lucifer..."
I looked up, reaching for him, but he pulled away. I only caught air, my arm falling limply.
My heart plummeted. "I didn't—it wasn't me, Lucifer—"
His eyes were cold. "Lock her up."
Guards seized me. Suddenly, familiar pain shot through my abdomen. I looked down. A tear in my dress—those bastards had slashed me at some point. I gasped. Black vapor spread from the wound. That vicious pain radiated outward. I coughed up blood and blacked out.