CHAPTER 9
DESPITE THE LATE HOURS of the night, there were still a noticeable number of werewolves around. Werewolves both in their human and wolf forms passed by, each paying their respects to Edmund.
They stared at Lenore with the same wary look she was growing used to. Some of them reacted as Brynn did—relaxing as they recognized Lenore’s natural rank in the pack. Others kept their distance and whispered words she couldn’t hear. Their darting eyes and frowns spoke for them.
Lenore’s hold on Edmund tightened without her thinking. She thought she would be the only one scared of them—a fact that remained true in the quick rhythm of her heart. But they were just as uneasy around her.
She tried to reason it with the way she looked and smelled at the moment.
“Don’t mind them,” Edmund said quietly. Lenore responded with a quiet hum in her throat. So he had noticed. “We’re drenched in blood from what was supposed to be a simple mission.”
A small, tired smile tugged at Lenore’s lips. “That’s right,” she said. “I don’t understand how you’re not gagging, actually.” Her hand ran through her stiff strands of hair. “How am I supposed to stand before Auden—the… Car...?”
“Caernith.”
“Thank you. Can’t I dunk my head, my entire body in water or something first?”
“We have the basic decency to ignore the stench,” Edmund said.
Lenore squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a small, embarrassed whine under her breath.
“You smell better than some of the werewolves here, trust me,” Brynn chimed in. “Some think the rain is good enough for an occasional shower.”
Just as Brynn finished speaking, the view changed.
Before them lay a large lake, nestled among the sparsely scattered trees.
It was as if the moon itself had been captured on its surface—almost glowing pure white when one stared directly into the pearlescent waters.
Lily pads floated on top, some with blooms nearly ready to burst into a fireworks display of petals.
A tint of blue surrounded the edges of the lake, painting the encircling environment in wavering reflections of light that ebbed and flowed with the gentle movement of the water.
Flat wooden bridges hovered just a few feet above the water.
There were no rails to protect either side, but it was wide enough for someone of Edmund’s stature to walk comfortably next to someone in similar shape.
As Edmund and Brynn stepped onto the bridge, the wood responded with a soft creak.
The glowing bluish-white light enveloped them.
A semi-circular pavilion surrounded by tall wooden pillars wrapped in flowering vines sat on the edge of the lake, facing the luminous expanse of water.
Blooming lilies clustered the sides of the platform that edged the water.
At the back of the platform, an arched window, framed by two pillars, showcased a design that mirrored the lake’s soft white and blue hues.
The fragments of glass detailed a white werewolf in its upright werewolf form—a towering beast that stood on two legs.
One of its clawed hands reached upward, toward a white raven that held a bloom tinted in white and blue in its beak.
A group of werewolves awaited them on the platform in the distance, each of them in their human form.
At the center of the group was a man who sat slightly hunched over, his hands clasped together with his elbows propped on his legs.
He stood out instantly in Lenore’s eyes, but for reasons laced with concern.
Sickliness clung to his pale skin, draining it to a ghastly white.
Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes.
A clammy sheen of sweat peeked through the man’s pale-blonde bangs.
Just as they began to walk, Brynn leaned in close to whisper to Lenore. “He’s been like that for a couple of weeks now. Our poor Caernith got sick only just a few weeks after his mates’ ceremony.”
“That’s terrible,” Lenore whispered back. “And he’s forced himself to wait for us this entire time?”
“Kind as ever,” Brynn sighed. “He always tries to be involved in everything. Greeting you, or anyone else, would be important to him—even in his condition right now.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he falls into the lake the moment he stands up,” Edmund commented dryly. “All he’s doing is delaying actual recovery.”
Brynn’s worried expression looked inclined to agree, but optimism still sprang from her words. “He’s far stronger than that. And besides, he’s doing this for a noble cause!”
“Greeting a whelp is noble?” Edmund was stone-faced, his eyes unimpressed.
Lenore shifted uncomfortably in his arms. His words only made her feel guiltier about keeping the Caernith waiting for so long. She quickly tapped Edmund’s shoulder, causing him to pause in his pace and glance down at her.
“I think... you can put me down now,” Lenore said, forcing a polite smile onto her face. “My legs got enough rest, thank you.”
Edmund’s cold gaze stayed on her, a beat of silence passing before he turned his head away.
“Fine,” he said. He lowered her to the ground carefully until Lenore’s feet found purchase on the ground.
She winced, but the rest she got for her legs was enough for her to move on her own. Once she stood straight, she looked at Edmund.
“You’re not walking ahead of me?” she asked.
“And turn around to see you way behind?” His sarcasm was light, but somehow it stung deep.
Edmund stilled when something faltered in Lenore’s eyes. She only nodded and moved forward. A split second later, the sound of footsteps followed behind.
Brynn shot a sideways glance at Edmund, but said nothing when his eyes lingered on Lenore.
With only the wood creaking under their boots, the air felt so much more stifling. Each step brought them closer to the ones who awaited them. Their gazes locked onto Lenore.
Since the moment they arrived at the edge of the lake, the group’s domineering presence loomed over her.
She quickly swept her eyes over the group ahead.
By Auden’s side was a pretty woman with fair skin and ash-blonde locks.
Behind them was a burly, brown-haired man and a small woman, her black braid contrasting her pale skin.
Lenore recognized Azelf by his dark-purple hair.
He stood in the far back at one corner, while another man sporting black hair stood at the other side.
Lenore swallowed her nerves. A ghost of a chill ran along her arm. Her lips pulled into a subtle frown, uncertain if she was just imagining the cold tingle.
The moment they stepped close to the platform, Lenore froze.
She could barely breathe, and it took everything in her to stop herself from grabbing her arm. An icy chill seared through her bandaged scars, pulsating horribly as the cold choked the rest of her body. Her flesh became a prison of ice.
The pain intensified as those on the platform continued to stare at her.
Vulnerable as she was, no one took notice as she forced herself to take another small step, to breathe as if her lungs weren't splintered with ice. Next to her, Brynn bowed down. Edmund offered a brief, respectful nod toward Auden. Lenore mimicked Brynn’s posture, tense gaze staring down at the cold marble below, silently praying to endure for a moment longer, for the pain to subside.
A thought pushed through the pain—what had triggered her body to react this way?
“You can lift up your head.” A deep voice, heavy with exhaustion, spoke.
When Lenore blinked, it was as if the ice had melted from her body. By the time she stood straight, she almost questioned herself whether it was all in her head. Her eyes met Auden’s gaze.
“Welcome to Lunavie, Lenore,” Auden rasped quietly through heavy breaths. “I see that your journey here wasn’t an easy one.”
A trace of warmth stirred in Auden’s brown eyes, bringing out the flecks of gold.
Lenore glanced downward at her hair, catching a glimpse of mud dried between the strands. “It... it was something,” she said.
Auden chuckled. “I know this is a huge shift from your life before, and I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through up until this point.
We’ve been werewolves all our lives, and you’ve been human for yours.
” He offered her a sympathetic smile. “But we’ll do our best to make you feel at home. You’re one of us now.”
That comforted her enough to hope that the wary stares she had received along the way weren’t anything personal. The tension in Lenore's shoulders lightened.
“Take however long you need to rest and get accustomed here,” Auden continued. “There’s no rush for anything.”
Relief washed over Lenore. She opened her mouth to respond, but Edmund took a step forward.
“If I may speak, Caernith?” Edmund asked.
“You may.”
“I suggest we start working on her skills as soon as possible.” The moment Edmund said that, Lenore felt like withering into dust. She wanted to shake his shoulders and yell blasphemy for even suggesting it.
Auden raised an eyebrow. “She’s only just got here. It seems like she’s gone through enough as is.”
Thank YOU, Lenore thought.
“Yes, but she’s in the wilderness now, where it feels like even a mosquito could kill her.” Edmund frowned. “At the very least, she needs basic survival skills.”
Auden leaned over his elbows once more, hands clasped together in thought. “I appreciate your insight, but I’m not sure if it’ll make any difference in the short term.”
“She’s a werewolf, not a human anymore.”
“She’s a Nyven as well, Edmund,” Auden replied. “It would be cruel to put her through that right away.”
Edmund’s eyes narrowed. Lenore glanced between them, a faint frown crossing her face.
“I’m not suggesting she needs to do anything drastic. But in her case, adjusting faster will help her integrate with the pack, especially before the Upper Moon Feast and the Lunar Ball.”