CHAPTER 17
SOFT CRIES yanked Lenore from her daze.
“Oh—oh no!” she stumbled forward, shifting back into human form to scoop the small creature into her hands.
Warmth seeped into her palms from the light sprite’s aura.
To Lenore’s relief, it had already begun to heal—its glowing orange skin forming over the cuts.
A light sprite was one of the rarest entities, capable of healing, purifying curses, and radiating light.
She’d only ever seen them once or twice, summoned by light mages—the rare few that had the divine attunement to do so.
The world called their gift the Touch of Grace.
“What’re you doing here?” she whispered. This was the first time she’d seen a light sprite up close. “I’ve only ever seen you by a light mage’s side.”
The light sprite squeaked back at her as soon as it recovered enough to hover in her palms. Its body was like a miniature sun with the waves of a lion’s mane. Tiny arms and legs jutted out from its round form.
It patted her fingers, letting out a few squeaks before it flipped in the air. Lenore had no clue what it was saying, but she smiled. Just its presence alone was comforting—a light in the darkness.
The light sprite turned to her mouth next, and Lenore cringed, only then becoming aware of how bloody she must have looked. She lifted her fingers, trying to cover the unpleasant sight.
“Sorry, I promise you I’m not going to hurt you next—”
She was interrupted by the light sprite’s chirping. It rose higher and placed its tiny arms onto one of Lenore’s fingers, encouraging her to lower them down. As soon as she did, it reached out. A wave of light passed across her face as she felt its warm touch.
The blood was washed away by the light, disappearing entirely. Lenore touched her face, surprised that she felt soft skin and not sticky liquid.
“Thank you,” she murmured, awed by its magic.
“Pii, Piiip!” the light sprite replied. Lenore’s smile returned, and she gently patted its head.
“Cute,” she said. “But I still don’t know why you’re here.” Her brow drew together. “Or why you were being attacked by those... things.” It was then she turned to look at the carcasses that surrounded them. Their moon-like eyes had dulled, but their otherworldliness lingered in their blank stares.
From the pieces she gathered, she couldn’t help but wonder if they had something to do with the Lucyn themselves.
Slowly, she looked back at the light sprite, as if it held the answers to all the questions she couldn’t name.
“... What should we do?”
The forest, once humming with subtle activity, stilled. A scent of dried citrus and incense answered her instead. Lenore’s eyes widened.
“Well, for one thing, you know you could’ve howled for help, right?” A man’s voice spoke behind her—the ring of familiarity to it sent a jolt through her spine. Instinctively she cupped the light sprite in her hands, hiding it behind her back as she spun around.
Black eyes met Lenore’s blue ones. Azelf stood before her in human form, his dark-purple bangs framing a handsome face, center strands nearly brushing the bridge of his nose.
The layered back of his hair tapered to his nape.
A faint smile curved his mouth, but his eyes remained unreadable.
Intertwined with his scent was a note of saltiness. Lenore pursed her lips. Is it sweat?
“Sorry,” Azelf said after a beat. His tone softened. “Not sure what else I could’ve said to someone sitting out in the dark without spooking them. You alright?”
“Y... yeah.” Lenore nodded slowly. “I got lost.” She tried not to squeeze the light sprite as she took a small step back.
With the ravens strewn around her, the silence was agonizing.
She watched him survey their surroundings, taking in the mangled birds with a calmness that unsettled her.
Lenore’s hands grew clammy, her legs ready to bolt away from the man with eyes as black as the night itself.
Her jaw tightened. Was he the one who triggered my scar?
She couldn’t think straight—too afraid to finish the thought.
“Were you hungry for a late-night snack?” Azelf asked, breaking the tense quiet. He smiled while Lenore looked bewildered. “I heard newbloods have a hard time with their wolf instincts. That explains why it’s a bit of a mess.”
She didn’t reply. Her words were caught in her throat.
“I can’t imagine a raven being tasty at all,” he continued. “Especially one that looks like this.” His voice lowered. “Or... did something else happen?”
Azelf’s stare held her down—probing for an answer, even if he had to extract it from the subtle twitch of her lips, or the tight crease of her eyes. Lenore trembled. A soft pat upon her fingers from the sprite soothed her. With renewed resolve, she stood a little taller.
“I was attacked,” she said, a faint waver in her voice. “I got lost and out of nowhere, these—these ravens dove at me.” She looked down at them, her insides unsettled, and heart pounding with adrenaline. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. What’s wrong with them?”
“I’m wondering that myself,” Azelf said. “There’s many strange creatures out here since we’re, well, in the wilderness. Diseases, curses—it’s all possible.” He hummed in thought. “Maybe even a witch’s pet, searching for werewolf hair.”
It all sounded perfectly convincing to Lenore, which only frustrated her more. She couldn’t trust him.
“So with that in mind, let’s get rid of them,” Azelf said. Lenore’s head snapped to him, bewildered once more. He raised an eyebrow, then lightly shrugged. “You’re alive, and everything seems fine with you. If there’s something wrong with these birds, they’re better off buried ten feet under.”
“If they’re cursed or imbued with magic, would burying them really help?” Lenore asked.
He paused—a knowing flicker crossing his eyes. Confidence seeped into his words. “It’ll be fine.”
Azelf grabbed the first raven by its legs. Lenore yelped, jumping back from the dangling carcass—its spread-out wings flailed in the air. He laughed. “I can handle the other one too.”
“T-thank you...” The moment Azelf turned around, Lenore shoved the light sprite into her dress’s pocket.
The sprite wriggled, and it peeked out. Its arms waved excitedly, opening its mouth before Lenore pushed it back down.
Please stay put! She had no idea if her thoughts reached the sprite, but to her relief, it calmed down, its light dimming enough to remain hidden.
When Azelf held both the dead ravens together, she asked him a question that refused to leave her mind.
“Why... are you out here? The party is far from here.” Lenore swallowed nervously. Her eyes searched every detail of his face, waiting to see anything that might confirm her distrust.
Azelf laughed again. The warmth of the sound clashed with the dark circumstances.
“The party needed more wine, so I volunteered. Brynn, then Edmund, mentioned you weren’t there, so I was given the task of escorting you along the way.
I should be the one surprised you ended up all the way over here. ”
“They did?” Lenore couldn’t help but give a small smile despite herself. “That’s kind of them…”
“So let’s get to it, then. We have a party to get back to after all.”
“Oh—uh, I was actually planning to go home—”
“Not sure if that’s the best idea.” The air between them turned cold. Azelf continued to smile, but his tone turned serious. “It’s only just a suggestion, but I really recommend you go. It’ll make you feel more in the pack.”
Was it a suggestion or a warning? Lenore couldn’t tell. After a moment’s pause, she nodded. Admittedly, his advice was sound.
“I guess it won’t hurt to try to socialize,” she murmured. Azelf grinned.
“Then let’s get digging.”
The last speck of dirt was flicked off Lenore’s dress just as a pathway of lanterns bathed them in light. The lanterns alternated in a pattern—some encased in glass, others in metal flourished with cutouts of a crescent moon and stars.
They had walked in relative silence until now. After burying the ravens, it was hard to make conversation—the tension unwilling to rest. All the things Lenore wanted to say were lost in the unease that lingered after what she’d seen and done.
But as they finally approached the heart of the party, Lenore allowed herself to breathe.
They were no longer in the wilderness. She looked up at the lanterns, impressed by the craftsmanship.
It was enough to encourage her to start a conversation, pretending all was normal between them.
“Werewolves really like the moon motif, huh?”
“Technically, you’re one too. It’s only a matter of time before you start filling your space with moon decor,” Azelf replied lightheartedly. “The moon is tied to our strength and abilities. You haven’t been under a full moon yet, right?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Then you’ll understand soon enough. If you think a werewolf is strong now, you’ll see how their strength practically triples under the big ol’ moon. It’s all gradual, of course, so you don’t feel any sudden highs or drops, but a werewolf always feels their best with a full moon.”
It made sense now why Lenore had been under lock and key in a windowless room. She sighed softly. “I did hear about how werewolves were at their peak on a full moon, but at the same time, they’re crazy with madness and rage.”
“We have a lot of unsavory legends attached to us,” Azelf said. His lips twitched, as if holding onto words that never left. “It is what it is.”
Lenore lightly bit her lip. “Because,” she began slowly, “of the Lucyn, right?”
“Oh.” Azelf’s eyes flitted to her briefly. “So you already know the gist of it.”
“I got a brief rundown earlier,” she replied. With the lights shining down and the sounds of merriment all around, her courage grew. “Which makes me think of those ravens earlier.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Could they possibly have been corrupted by… the Lucyn?”