CHAPTER 18 #2
With the brightest smile she could muster, she prepared herself for the battle between introversion and the art of small talk.
Someone kill me. Lenore kept up a kind smile, offering a polite head-bow for the umpteenth time.
“Have a good evening,” she said, waving goodbye to yet another werewolf whose name she barely remembered—too panicked trying to think of things to say for the entire conversation.
She allowed herself a sigh of relief when Edmund nodded approvingly at her.
“You’re better at this than anything else so far,” he said. “Not bad.”
“Wha—this is worse than hunting,” she muttered under her breath. “Also, contrary to what you think, I am good at other things.”
“Hm.” Edmund’s lips tugged into a teasing smirk. “That’ll be interesting to see.”
“More interesting than you trying to hide your laughter by grimacing when I messed up a werewolf saying?” She pouted through her blush. “I just couldn’t remember a few words!”
“Right. I don’t know how ‘May the light of the moon guide your steps’ turned to ‘May the moon walk on your steps.’” He tilted his chin upward, pretending to look aloof. “I don’t remember laughing—”
“You were!”
“—But at least that werewolf and the others can tell you’re harmless now.”
She blinked, then studied him closely. Edmund’s posture stiffened, unprepared for the sudden scrutiny of her gaze.
“What?” he asked, a note of uncertainty creeping into his tone.
“You were trying to help me, weren’t you, Edmund?” Lenore asked quietly. She held her hands behind her back. “Is it because of what I am? Not a born werewolf, but a—”
“A werewolf all the same,” he emphasized. “Like I said, you were and are under my personal authority. The useless gossip from the other werewolves would’ve found its way to me eventually, connecting me to baseless theories if left unchecked.”
Is it a baseless theory? One of her fangs nibbled at the inside of her lip, troubled by the doubt that clung to the shadows of her mind. Too distracted by her thoughts, she didn’t respond. Edmund frowned.
“... Let’s take a break,” he said gently. “You’ve done a lot today already.”
When she still didn’t respond, he reached out, his fingers barely a ghost of a touch upon her arm. Her body reacted before her mind took hold. Lenore’s shoulders jumped, shrinking away from him. She blinked rapidly, staring into Edmund’s widened eyes.
Quickly, she gathered herself together, and ran a few fingers through her silver tresses. She tried to smile apologetically. “Sorry, I—I wasn’t paying attention. What did you say?”
Edmund’s hand fell to his side quickly, as if it had been burnt. For a brief moment, raw emotion crossed his face.
Insecurity. Embarrassment.
Lenore’s heart plummeted. She didn’t mean to shy away from him so terribly. “Edmund—”
“I offered you a break,” he replied, voice quieter than before. “But if you’re tired, you can go.”
There was a sting to his dismissal, but she stepped closer to him. “Are you alright?” she asked back softly. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was trying to get away from you.”
A muscle in Edmund’s jaw twitched. His eyes fell to the side. “That didn’t cross my mind.”
She ignored the obvious lie. “You helped bring me back to reality. I was just... overwhelmed, I guess. The pack dynamics... and being a Lucyn-turned werewolf.” A soft exhale escaped her when she caught the tight crease forming under Edmund’s eyes.
She rushed to explain. “I learned what that meant earlier. When everyone is staring at me like I’m the walking plague, it didn’t take long to learn why. ”
Edmund’s lips tightened. “That’s all just foolish superstition, you know.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Lenore let out a dry laugh. “If anything, you made this evening a lot better for me. Especially when you let yourself get dragged into conversations when I needed help.”
Edmund’s cheeks turned red. His brows furrowed. “I did say we’d suffer together,” he muttered.
“You did,” Lenore giggled. “So is everything clear, my fellow club member?”
The redness darkened in his skin. “Mostly. But if you have anything on your mind that’s bothering you… I am supposed to listen.” He glanced at her, rolling his eyes at her skeptical look. “Not including the problems you have with me.”
Lenore hummed in thought. “Am I still being dismissed for the night?”
“No—unless that’s... if that’s what you want.” Edmund took a quick breath. “But I’m not against you staying.” He turned his head away slightly, unable to meet her eyes.
The tips of Lenore’s fingers played with her dress’s fabric, her own eyes shyly falling to the ground. She looked up just as she was about to respond—noticing the sudden tightness of his shoulders. Her eyebrows shot up when Edmund’s demeanor changed sharply.
Vexation simmered in his mismatched eyes. His aura intensified into a ferocious beast looming over, stifling everything else out with its gravitas.
Knees weak, Lenore slowly followed the direction of Edmund’s pointed glare.
It was Arisa, heading toward the mithrial.
She looked far more refreshed than before, with a healthy flush to her cheeks.
Her thumb brushed the corner of her lips, wiping away the trace before pressing it against her dark-green skirts.
Lenore thought she saw a faint glimmer on the fabric until it rippled out of sight.
The light sprite wriggled in Lenore’s pocket, and she felt its tiny arms pushing at her thigh.
Not right now, Pip. Lenore’s knuckles subtly brushed against her pocket.
“I’ll be right back,” Edmund growled. He moved fast, only to stop when he realized Lenore was following behind. “What’re you doing?”
“You look like you’re about to kill someone,” she whispered. “I think it’s best if you have someone that wants to do the opposite stay with you.”