CHAPTER 26 #3
“I’m fine,” Lenore quickly reassured her. “Just thought there was a rock stuck in the wheel, but it was a false alarm.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, forcing herself to ignore the tug in her chest as she spoke. “I’ll feel a lot better once we get through this dinner.”
Charie squeezed her hands. “Yes, I agree.” She wrung her hands, waiting until the others were busy chatting. She spoke again, slowly, with hesitation. “Lenore... don’t eat Arisa’s gift.”
Lenore raised an eyebrow. “What?” she whispered back.
A pause followed before Charie answered, “Arisa is planning to offer her own dish to us as a thank you, if all goes well.” Her eyes stayed on the ground. “It’s... it’s a delicacy not everyone can stomach, that’s all I meant.”
“Oh,” Lenore said slowly. In a voice a fraction too high, she replied in a joking manner. “Don’t tell me it’s harpy eggs or something like that.”
Charie chuckled, then shook her head, the brief spark of light in her eyes dying out as she murmured, “No. Nothing like that.”
“It’s not?” Lenore glanced at her, but was met with only the side of Charie’s solemn face.
Her smile faltered as she looked away, quietly mulling over Charie’s warning.
What does she mean? “Well… at least I won’t have to worry about vomiting tonight.
” She laughed it off, then said, “Thank you. I appreciate the warning—”
The ache in Lenore’s chest nearly took her breath away. A light dusting of pink colored her cheeks. She picked up the pace, offering Charie an apologetic smile at the same time.
“Sorry,” she hurried to say. “Feels like I’m going to implode the longer we take to get there.”
There was no argument from Charie, who simply nodded.
Silence eventually befell the group. The atmosphere grew tense, an undercurrent of nervous static crackling through the air as the werewolves before Lenore straightened up, their shoulders set, and each step met with as much grace as they could muster.
The winding path gradually opened up to a clearing, and the dirt below blended into paved stone. On either side were carved stone wolves, each holding a lantern in its muzzle. Through the gaps in the stone floor, small glowing flowers bloomed, twinkling like the stars above.
A long wooden table stood proudly in the center of the clearing, gleaming beneath a canopy of lanterns hanging from thick branches—a veil of light shielding the area from the surrounding darkness.
Garlands of flowers and foliage ran along the middle of the table, draping the floor at the ends.
Above them, a sliver of the moon was cradled in the dark's embrace, accompanying the dinner with its own fragment of dim light.
Almost every other seat at the table was occupied—twenty figures total, their imposing forms shifting toward the newcomers. All eyes were on them.
At the head of the table sat Auden. The glow of the lanterns settled upon him like a halo of light.
It brightened his handsome features, diluting the dark bags under his eyes and bringing a touch of warmth to his pale skin.
He looked better than before, and the way he carried himself came with measured command.
“Did Thalryn Beren’s medicine finally work?” Arielle noted quietly. “Our Caernith looks so much better.”
But the smile Auden offered still lacked soul.
Arisa sat around the corner near him. In between the pair was a thin glass vase, occupied by a fully bloomed etheria.
Its glowing red petals matched the bright radiance of her smile, but it was blemished with the haunting chill that refused to leave Lenore’s arm.
Within her pocket, Pip’s warmth flared up defensively.
Arisa leaned in to whisper something in Auden’s ear, and a quiet laugh escaped him. Next to Lenore, Charie gripped her own wrist tightly.
“I’ve brought the reason why this feast is able to be one at all,” Azelf announced. “So you can give your thanks to me.” He grinned cheekily as a collective groan rang out across the table, as with the Nyvens behind him.
Lenore was distracted, desperately searching for one face in particular, with as much restraint as she could gather.
Her lips parted slightly as soon as she saw him, almost breathless as Edmund’s eyes met hers instantly.
There was an intensity in his gaze that melted her—a longing she could barely comprehend.
Her knees felt weak. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach while the rising heat of her skin nearly overpowered the cold that once trailed up her arm.
The relief of finally seeing each other washed over them both, and the powerful tug that pushed Lenore along faded away.
The realization of what had transpired sank in.
She dug her thumbnail into her finger, trying not to glance in Edmund’s general vicinity as Auden stood up.
Every head, including hers, bowed in respect.
“Thank you for taking the time to prepare the food for us tonight,” he said. “Your hard work is the backbone of this pack, and is something that I and the others will always appreciate. Blessings to you all.” He sat back down, hands clasped together in front of him. “Let us begin.”