CHAPTER 50
AMID THE FLURRY OF PREPARATIONS, a glass vial was pressed into Lenore’s gloved hands.
A silver necklace was looped through the stopper, its tiny chains coiled beneath the glass like a nest. Golden flecks drifted inside, shimmering faintly with each ripple—Pip’s grace.
It was fused with Azelf’s own magic, allowing it to be thrown and unleashed like a spell.
Kyrie stood before her, a calm pillar against the chaos that erupted around them.
Commanding yells thundered through the air.
Gleams of silver flashed beneath the last echoes of sunlight as werewolves equipped themselves with silver armored claws in their human forms, the savagery clashing against the elegance of fine suits and adorned dresses.
The full moon was high above, its celestial form at its peak grandeur. Clouds obscured the sky, a veil for the glowing orb to hide itself in, as if it couldn’t bear to look any longer.
Its power permeated every fiber of Lenore’s being. She now fully understood what it meant to be under the full moon—its light continuously blessing her whole body with strength.
Kyrie’s voice rose in volume, ensuring that Lenore could hear her through the noise.
“In times of battle, Nyvens are usually the support. If a battle breaks out, be quick to use this on anyone that’s affected by the frost.” Kyrie looked down at the shimmering vial, a ghost of a frown crossing her face.
“You lack any real training outside of today’s drills, so do not even think of pulling any risky moves—”
“Which is exactly why I changed my mind about letting her come!” Edmund interrupted.
“After learning more about her, I would agree with you if she didn’t fight so hard to be here.” Kyrie looked down at Lenore, her lips pulled tight as Lenore’s brows furrowed in response.
She clutched the vial tightly to her chest. “I’m going.”
A soft growl rumbled in Edmund’s throat. “You should be staying back with Kyrie and the children!”
Lenore turned to Edmund with a frown. “And be beside myself with worry for you and everyone else, knowing I could be doing my best to help?” Her gaze fell to the vial in her hands.
A part of her did want to stay out of harm’s way, to be hidden from the looming danger that could end her life tonight.
But a larger part of her couldn’t bear to do nothing at all. If it meant Edmund—and anyone else—could live another day, she would do anything to help.
“Edmund,” Lenore started. “If you died, wouldn’t I be in trouble, anyway? So please…” Her eyes met his, soft and pleading. “At least let me stay by your side.”
Her words only troubled Edmund further. He rubbed his forehead with one hand, already equipped with his armored silver claws, peeking from beneath his suit’s sleeve. A heavy sigh escaped him while Lenore’s gaze remained unwavering.
“Where was your protest when she was trying on dresses?” Kyrie asked flatly.
“It didn’t hit me then… that this isn’t going to be like the other Lunar Balls.” Edmund lowered his hand to his side, brows drawn close. “Lenore, if you get hurt…”
“From everything that’s happened so far, I’ve learned I’m pretty good at running away.” Lenore let out a dry chuckle as Edmund groaned. “It doesn’t matter.” She stood straighter. “I am going with you.”
Edmund’s lips tightened. “And what if you face a Lucyn?”
Uneasiness squeezed Lenore’s insides, but her face remained determined. “I’m not going to let that stop me. I won’t cower. And besides...” she smiled lightly. “You’ll have that Lucyn down before I blink.”
Edmund stared at her, a conflict of emotions crossing his face. His shoulders lowered in resignation. In a firm voice, he said, “Stay in the back lines if you can. Always stay on guard.”
Lenore nodded as Kyrie crossed her arms.
“I expect you two and the rest of our family to stay alive then,” Kyrie said. “It sickens me I can’t go with you, or be by Varek’s side but…” She lowered a hand to her rounded stomach. “This all just had to happen while I’m expecting.”
“Not having you on the battlefield is a mercy for the enemy,” Edmund said. His words drew out a light chuckle from her.
“They’ve taken our grandmother, and there’s nothing I can do except burn in rage.” Darkness fell over Kyrie’s face as her eyes flicked downward, then back up. “Don’t you dare fail. And don’t you dare die either.”
“You always had a way of putting the most pressure on my shoulders,” he remarked. “I already know.”
“Good.” Kyrie looked to Lenore. “And you.”
“Me?” Lenore’s shoulders rose slightly, eyes wide as Kyrie’s icy gaze scrutinized her. “Yes?”
“Do anything foolish, and I will not hesitate to throw you into a wyvern’s nest to realize your errors.”
“That’s her way of saying be careful,” Edmund added in an unamused tone. He shot his sister a reproachful look. “Don’t stress my mate out.”
“But has she actually done that before?” Lenore asked in a small voice.
“What hasn’t she done?” Edmund muttered.
A distant, loud howl pierced through the noise, briefly silencing all those around them.
As its final note echoed through the clearing, a new tension sprang up among the rising clamor.
Apprehension surged through Lenore’s chest. It was time to depart for the Lunar Ball.
“There’s your cue to stop idling around here and go check in with the rest of the family,” Edmund said. “You can go and threaten your mate instead.”
“Hmph.” Kyrie let out a mock noise of indignation.
“I’ll see you both when you depart to the ball.
” She paused—a light scowl forming on her face as she stared at Edmund.
“Mongrel,” she said, her fangs gleaming as her lips curled back in a mock hiss.
Without another word, she moved effortlessly through crowds of werewolves that stepped aside for her.
As soon as she passed through, the path behind her disappeared, and she was no longer in their sights.
“Is that really how you wanted the conversation with your sister to end?” Lenore asked as Edmund took her hand, prompting her to move forward with him.
The cold silver of his armored hand tingled through the thin fabric of her glove.
She hastily threw the silver necklace over her head, the vial dangling at her bosom.
“If we said anything nicer, it would’ve only made everything feel more uncertain,” Edmund said. “She might look like a block of ice, but I’m sure she’s going to go and cry to Varek.”
Lenore pressed close to Edmund as they wove through the crowd, her heart beginning to pound.
Although most werewolves were headed in the same direction, many others ran back and forth to finish up any remaining tasks.
Shouted commands rose through the endless chatter.
She could see a group of children being led by another werewolf, heading toward a hidden shelter that remained elusive to even Edmund.
Large black ribbons trailed behind her, attached to a bow at the back of her black waist corset.
Layers of an off-shoulder dusty-blue dress hid black boots, and the dress softly swayed with every motion.
Silver adorned the hemming of a sheer overskirt of tulle, which was subtly dyed a darker shade of blue at the ends.
Beneath the silver necklace, a black choker hugged her neck, adorned with a silver star accompanied by a smaller one dangling below.
A silver band of leaves and stars decorated her hair, matching the earrings she wore.
Lenore rubbed at her arm, both of which were covered in the sleeves of long, thin black gloves.
She glanced out at the others around her, the crowd thick with werewolves moving in steady formation.
Though Lenore could barely see ahead of her with so many werewolves gathered around, solemn gazes were mirrored across the mass, barely veiling the ferocious intensity that burned in many eyes.
The battle-readiness that emanated from every werewolf was hard for Lenore to fully grasp as they strode in their elegant attire.
“Isn’t it strange we’re all going dressed like this?
” She turned her head away from the others, breath hitched when she caught Edmund looking at her.
His gaze lingered on her figure—a man entranced, drinking her in as if she were the finest wine, sweetened with a fragrance that brought out his longing.
Their eyes met. Lenore stared at him, stunned. Both their complexions bloomed red, and they both turned their heads away from each other.
“I—I agree.” Edmund said, mouth slightly parted, eyes widened slightly as he tried to find his words. His grip tightened on her hand. “But I’m not complaining.”
“O-okay.” Lenore tried to ignore what had just transpired and continued to voice her thoughts out loud.
“But I feel like this is crazier than not. Since when did this kind of appearance matter for a werewolf going into battle?” Unable to resist, she took a peek at Edmund’s own outfit, silently admiring how handsome he looked.
A black cape hung off one shoulder, edged with thick fur.
Pinned to the belt that secured his cape was a silver crescent moon with a tassel.
Underneath he wore a long black suit jacket, its lapel a darkish-gray with a silver edge.
His dark suit pants, tucked into ankle-high black boots by choice, lent the elegance a more rugged edge.
But Lenore only found it—and him—even more attractive. She froze—he was watching her again, his expression tense with awareness. Lenore blinked rapidly as her eyes darted toward the ground.
“Well,” Lenore started, her fingers shyly tugging at the ends of her hair. “You looked at me first, so!” She raised a hand to hide her burning face, quietly whining, “Ugh... stars, please stop looking at me.”
“... It’s the sentiment that we’re upholding tradition regardless of what’s coming,” Edmund said after a moment’s pause. He turned his gaze forward. “A morale boost to say that at the end of it all, the Lunar Ball will still carry on as normal.”
“Right…”