CHAPTER 10
THE QUIET OF THE NIGHT broke with a gentle creak of door hinges.
Charie had opened the door to Lenore’s new residence to reveal an unexpectedly spacious cottage interior.
As they shuffled in, Charie brushed her fingers against a small square that jutted out slightly from the wall.
It was marked with a rune, and the seal glowed in response to her touch.
Wall lanterns flickered on, bathing the pair in warm, slightly dimmed light.
At the end of the entryway were Lenore’s belongings, which they passed when Charie introduced her to the rest of the home.
“Our homes are built with families in mind,” Charie explained when she saw Lenore’s stunned reaction.
“I’m not sure how much you know about werewolves, but we’re naturally very family-oriented.
It’s a bit strange at first, having all this space, but there’s a chance you might have a family here...
or perhaps in a different pack, depending on where you meet your mate and the circumstances. ”
“I see…” Lenore murmured. She had so many questions in response to Charie’s words, but decided it was best answered on a night that wasn’t so fraught with exhaustion.
“Everything here should work. And if there is any trouble, please feel free to let me know.” Kind as Charie’s words were, her expression was as impassive as when they first met. Lenore could make out the exhaustion behind her tone, and the weariness that followed her like a shadow.
“I live nearby. Similar-ranked werewolves are usually clustered together,” Charie continued.
So she was a Nyven, just like her. Lenore nodded, relieved that she didn’t have to consider another wolf’s ranking for now.
“I’m serving our Caernith and his mate personally at the moment, so I won’t always be around for most of the day.
” Charie wrung her hands. Lenore noticed that she wore gloves.
“So if you have any immediate issues by tomorrow, you could bring it up to our Vesren since you’ll be under his guidance. ” Charie looked almost sorry for her.
Every fiber of Lenore’s being recoiled from the idea. “I’ll... keep that in mind,” she intoned. “Hopefully everything will be just fine. Thank you so much, Charie.”
Charie bobbed her head slightly in response. “I can go get some food for you now. You must be hungry.”
Lenore’s stomach no longer wailed for food—it was too twisted in knots from the night’s plight to even consider a nibble. “I’m alright, actually. I think I should just sleep as soon as I can,” she said.
Charie looked at her with a frown. “Are you sure? I’ll be quick and then you can settle in for the night.”
“Oh no, please don’t worry about me.” Lenore’s voice wobbled with a subtle strain.
It was dawning on her that after everything that had happened, she was about to be in her own space—no longer with watchful guards just outside of the door, or strangers to accompany her into the unknown. It was just going to be her, all alone.
She held her elbows, turning away and pretending to look at the empty living room of a foreign place that was now her home. “I’ll be fine now,” she said. “Thank you again.”
With Lenore’s back turned, Charie tentatively reached out to her before stopping her hand mid-air.
“... I still think I should get you something,” she replied, lowering her hand to her side.
“A werewolf never does well on an empty stomach. In the meantime, do whatever you’d like to make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back soon.”
Lenore heard footsteps clicking behind her, then the door being shut.
She fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, her legs finally giving out.
The tears poured out before she even realized she was crying.
The first taste of salt in her mouth made her choke out a sob, unable to contain herself any longer.
She wailed, eyes scrunched, mouth open as she pressed her head down against her arms that lay on the ground.
The sobs racked her body as anguish flooded her.
Dribbles of snot fell from her nose, dripping messily to the floor.
Her heart constricted with pain. Her fingers grasped at nothing, then curled into white-knuckled fists.
I want to go home. To Arkhaven—
But they abandoned you, didn’t they, Lenore? Dropped you off with a bunch of strangers giving you strange looks—
What—
Pretending to be kind to you while knowing what you really are.
I—what I really am?
You’re different. You don’t belong.
Lenore trembled, unnerved by the intrusive thoughts whispering in a voice that sounded like her own. Gritting her teeth, she choked back a sob. She whipped her head back and forth, stopping herself from spiraling further. I never wanted any of this. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this—
The words drove her to slam her fists against the ground. Her left hand bunched the fabric over her bandaged wound—a scar that may fade in time but forever carved deep in her mind.
Tears continued to stain her cheeks, brimming endlessly in her eyes. Her legs pulled close as she lay on the floor, curling into a fetal position as her cries continued.
As the exhaustion rolled through her body, slowing her wails to hiccups and sniffles, she prayed she could eventually wake up from the nightmare that surrounded her.