CHAPTER 33
THREE DAYS HAD ALREADY PASSED since Edmund’s departure. The moon was visible in the fading blue sky. No longer was it a tiny sliver when Lenore first arrived at the pack, but nearly a full rounded pearl dwelling above.
Six more days until the Lunar Ball.
A yarrow stem fell into Lenore’s hand, freshly cut by the knife Edmund had given her.
The work grounded her, keeping the throes of her anxiety at bay.
As she lifted the white flower clusters to her face, she glanced over at Charie, who was a far distance away, harvesting herbs like her.
Next to Lenore, Winter stood up, stretching her frail arms to the air.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Winter asked. “I’m sorry I have to stop here. I have to go clean up the kirin stables.” She let out a noise of complaint. “My herb collecting is usually cut short on this day.”
Lenore knew that. It was why she had asked to join them in the first place. Charie was usually never alone, not until now. “It’s never fun jumping from task to task,” she sighed. “Thank you for taking the time to help teach me.”
“I’m just glad you reached out. I figured you just needed space from all the stress of everything else.” Winter flashed a toothy grin. “It’s been a fun few days!”
Fun wasn’t how Lenore would put it. After reaching out to Winter, Lenore was rarely out of her sight.
Hour after hour, there was apparently always something to do together, and a steady stream of compliments that could make anyone feel appreciated.
And with each bundle of praise, Lenore’s arm flared with a sharp, cold sting.
“It’s definitely different from when I lived back in Arkhaven,” she said. She dropped the yarrow stems into the gathering basket next to her.
“I can’t imagine living in a city. It would feel…
too confining. I’ve heard you can’t even see the moon clearly in some places—and that’s too important to me,” Winter said with a laugh.
What she said next sent a chill down Lenore’s spine.
“Ryker’s interested in hearing one of your city stories, by the way. ”
“Really? Well... anytime,” she said. “I have plenty.”
“Share them all with us then! I love stories. I feel like it lets me live experiences I’d never have myself.”
Lenore’s fingers twitched when a pang of guilt thrummed through her. This is so hard, she thought. Every time Winter implied her struggles, it was impossible not to feel torn. Winter had gotten up now, shrinking down into her wolf form.
“Are you sure you figured out the herbs?” Winter asked again.
“Fairly confident,” Lenore said with a light shrug and smile. “Charie can help too right?”
At the mention of Charie’s name, Winter nodded slowly. “Oh, yes, she can.” The enthusiasm she had fell slightly. “Try not to bother her too much,” she said. “She’s still having to care for Auden constantly, especially since Arisa left.” She looked over at Charie, who caught her stare.
The raven-haired woman offered a faint smile before she abruptly went back to rifling through the wild plants.
Winter quietly expelled a small puff of air through her nose. Her watchful eyes stayed on Charie for a moment longer until she turned back to Lenore. As her tail wagged, she added, “I’ll be going now then! Have a good night!”
“You too!” Lenore waved goodbye as Winter departed. Lenore noted the energetic spring in her step, frowning to herself once she was sure Winter was far enough away. Winter had told her she could barely run, yet she easily breezed through the clearing with a grace that knew nothing of frailty.
Lenore sliced away the remaining yarrow. The fleeting window of opportunity had arrived. Only she and Charie remained.
No matter how hard Lenore tried, the distance between her and Charie never shrank.
Whenever she spent even a minute at a harvesting spot, Charie would be even farther away.
It took little thought to know she was avoiding her.
Any time Lenore drew closer, Charie hurried on even farther.
It was an endless cycle that was beginning to drive Lenore mad.
“Charie!” Lenore called out. “If you could help me—”
“Just stick to the canarias, and yarrow, and wolf’s mint. You’ll learn more, eventually.” Charie’s reply was dismissive, and she continued to move forward without so much as a backward glance.
Lenore glanced down at her basket with a grimace. A bunch of randomly plucked weeds was piled on top. She had given up on finding the right herbs long ago, her focus shifting entirely to Charie.
A vial of moon nectar hung off Lenore’s waist belt, its liquid sloshing subtly when her fingertips gingerly brushed against the glass. Her fingers moved to the leather pouch clasped to her belt. She swallowed heavily.
Everything teetered on this. There was no more time for a slow approach.
“AH!” Lenore yelped, feigning a sharp stumble to the ground. A soft groan spilled from her as she lifted herself up onto her bottom.
Hurried footsteps headed her way. Lenore clutched her ankle tightly. It worked.
“Are you okay?” Charie crouched by her. “That sounded like an awful fall.”
“I’m okay,” Lenore replied. She loosened her grip on her ankle with a wince. “I was scared I sprained it, but it was only a slip.” Smiling sheepishly, her outstretched hand was lifted toward Charie. “Could you help me up?”
Charie’s lips pursed slightly, hesitating for a second more before she took her hand, helping to hoist her up.
The moment Lenore was on her feet, Charie released her grip and turned away.
“If it hurts too much, you don’t have to—” she gasped sharply, startled by Lenore’s sudden grab of her arm.
Frantic eyes met Lenore’s. “What—what’re you doing? ”
“Charie.” Lenore’s quiet voice betrayed the tremble of her pounding heart.
But she kept her gaze level, refusing to budge.
“No more running.” Her hand dove into the depths of her leather bag, fishing out a glass vial that contained the black fragment she had taken days before.
As she held the vial between her fingers, her grip on Charie’s arm tightened.
“I know about this. About Arisa. About the others.”
Charie’s breathing turned heavy. Her body trembled. “How... how did you get that?”
“The day Hesper lashed out.” Lenore’s brows lowered. “He was losing control, wasn’t he? This thing that I’m holding, it’s keeping him and the others’ real symptoms at bay.” The inky-black fragment writhed in its glass prison. “To hide their Lucynhood from everyone else.”
There was no response from Charie. The silence said everything. Lenore’s stomach twisted. She didn’t want any of this to be true.
Urgency rose in Lenore’s voice. “Arisa isn’t here, Charie. This is your chance. We can work together!”
Darkness fell over Charie’s face. “… What can we do?” she whispered. Bitter resignation dripped from every word spoken. “The moment she set foot here, it was too late.” From a distance, a faint caw was heard. Lenore gritted her teeth. She was sure the vial would attract unwanted visitors soon.
“And if you give up now, then that’s you putting your fingers to the candle’s wick too early.
” She shoved the vial back into her pouch.
“I can help you, Charie. Starting by easing the burden off your shoulders with Auden.” Without Azelf here, she had what was the best thing for him.
Lenore pulled out Pip’s golden grace next—the brilliant light shining within the glass potion.
“I don’t know the specifics of what’s going on with him, but I know that this helps. ”
The light shone into Charie’s hazel eyes, revitalizing their hollow depths.
Lenore could only hope that Charie cared enough about the Caernith to accept.
“I know you’re not a Lucyn,” Lenore said.
“I can... tell. And I know you wouldn’t have warned me about the jelly if you really didn’t care.
” The creases under her eyes tightened. “So please, please Charie, we can still reverse this all.”
Charie turned her head to the side, then tugged her arm away. Despair seeped into Lenore. Is it really over? But Charie looked back, grim-faced as she was, with a flicker of light sparking in her eyes.
“... Auden,” she finally said. “We need to go to him first. He needs your vial.” She didn’t waste another moment—shifting into a wolf and bolting toward the direction of his home.
As soon as Lenore clasped her pouch shut, she ran after her—hair spilling into a thick coat of fur, and the heels of her boots disappearing into paws that struck the hard-packed dirt.
Thorns and thistles tore into Lenore’s sides mercilessly.
The path she took to Auden’s home differed from last time—if it could even be called a path.
The terrain was thick with wild growth that barred even the barest of movement, unless one was crawling on their belly—which was exactly what Lenore was doing.
Any wolf bigger than her would’ve been forced to retreat.
Sharp pebbles scraped across her stomach while nature’s needles grazed the top of her head and back.
Her legs were tucked tight as she wormed through.
Charie had guided her here, explaining it was the only way through while she dealt with Hesper. Lenore began to think this was preparation for impending torture instead.
Her jaw stayed clamped, stifling pained whines that hissed through her teeth. Inch by inch she made her way until she saw dark outer walls peek through the tiny gaps in the vegetation. Lenore’s claws dug into the ground. Finally.
But she remained where she was, with bated breath. Her tail curled around her, keeping as small as possible. The quiet hum of twilight surrounded her. Her ears perked up when she heard a sound that disturbed its rhythm—paws padding toward the thorny barrier.
Charie’s whisper made Lenore let out a sigh of relief. “The coast is clear.”
Lenore dragged herself out, wincing as the thorns resisted letting her go.
Claws clinging to the ground, she used the momentum to give herself the last big pull to freedom.
Roots snapped behind her. Her body was strewn with scraggly vines and smeared with dirt when she stepped out and leapt to her legs.
“Oof. Sorry.” Charie’s head lowered, grimacing at the sorry state Lenore was in. “We don’t have much time. I convinced Hesper to leave by asking him to get something from the apothecary.”
Lenore grabbed a thorn out of her paw with her mouth and grunted in response. Charie swiped her paw against Lenore’s back, clearing the loose debris away.
“Thank you,” Lenore said. When she looked at Charie, the black wolf was already making a beeline toward the house. In the blink of an eye, she shifted back into her human form, her telltale braid swaying back and forth.
Is Auden barely hanging on? Lenore hurried behind, shifting back into a human once they passed through the grand wooden doors. There was no time to marvel at the impressive foyer or the little details that marked the home with the legacy of a Caernith.
“This way,” Charie whispered, pulling Lenore’s attention back to her. “Up the stairs.”
The pair swiftly headed to the upper floor, their footsteps muffled by a stair runner of dark emerald green.
Charie led her through a hallway, passing through a lounge that looked completely untouched.
A faint trace of dust clung to the furniture.
Another set of doors awaited them at the end.
Charie grabbed a door handle, swinging it open in a frantic rush.
A large room came into view, darkened by the drawn curtains that prevented the final ebbs of sunset from enveloping the space.
An assortment of potions and vials occupied any available ledge or surface.
The air here was cold, and when Lenore breathed in, she felt the sting of ice prickle at her nostrils.
There, in the middle of the room, lay Auden in the confines of his bed.
Eyes shut, the only sign of life he offered was the subtle rise and fall of his chest. As Charie rushed to his side, he remained unresponsive even when she knelt down and took his hand into hers.
Lenore’s brows lifted, surprised by the tenderness of her gesture.
Faint black veins marked the pale surface of Auden’s hands, traveling halfway up his forearms before fading into nothingness.
“Lenore, please—he needs the vial.” Charie looked at her. Desperation flooded her eyes, the knuckles of her skin turning white from how tightly she held Auden’s hand.
“I’m on it.” Lenore was quick to move beside Charie, looking down at Auden’s face. Up close, there was no color to his skin. Taking the vial out of her pouch, she pulled the cork free as she placed her thumb on Auden’s chin—parting his lips enough to pour a bit of Pip’s magic into his mouth.
After a moment’s pause, Auden’s fingers twitched. Charie held her breath, leaning in closer, her tense expression lit with hope.
It left as soon as it came—Auden’s body writhed in pain, the black veins darkening as they violently pulsed throughout his skin.
His eyes stayed shut, but his face twisted in agony.
Strained grunts tore from his throat. Lenore gritted her teeth, determined to continue giving him the vial’s content until Charie grabbed her wrist.
“Stop—stop!” Charie cried. “It’s too much!”
“A-are you sure?” Lenore asked. She hesitated to lower her arm. “This might be fighting it off for him.”
Charie gripped the bedframe tightly, breathing heavily as she tried to think on what Lenore said. She loosened her grasp on Lenore’s wrist, her hand joining the other on the bedframe. “We’ll take it slow then,” she said. “I don’t want to risk anything.”
Lenore nodded silently. As she closed the vial and tucked it back into her belt’s pouch, Auden’s body gradually relaxed—his breathing quieting into a steady rise and fall.
The black veins turned faint again. His grimace softened, as if he escaped a nightmare and entered into a peaceful dream.
A barely audible whine slipped past Charie—the pain reflected into the tight creases beneath her eyes.
Unease coiled Lenore’s insides as she watched Auden sleep. “Have you been helping him all this time?”
Charie’s gaze stayed on Auden. “I have,” she murmured. “He’s my mate.”