Dinner tension

Dinner tension
The night had fallen deep and still, the quiet hum of crickets pressing against the wooden walls of the kitchen. The hearth glowed faintly, casting long shadows across the room where we all sat gathered around the table.

I found myself between Lira and Zach, their presence steady, grounding, while across from me sat Aeron, Amera, and Harold. Elder Marvic claimed the middle chair, his posture upright, his eyes heavy with thought, as if even the act of eating dinner was laced with the weight of prophecy.

The food smelled heavenly. Platters of grilled beef, bread still warm and bowls of seasoned roots and herbs crowded the table. My stomach grumbled quietly in protest—I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until now.

I reached for a slice of bread, fingers brushing against the crust, only to freeze. Aeron’s hand met mine halfway, his fingers brushing mine like a spark burning across skin. My breath caught in my throat, and when our eyes met, the world seemed to fall silent.

For a heartbeat, it was as though time had stopped. Just him and me, caught in a suspended moment we both hadn’t asked for, hadn’t prepared for.

I pulled back first, heart thudding like a drum in my chest. I let the bread go and turned my gaze downward, fixing it firmly on the food before me. My cheeks burned under the weight of so many eyes.

The silence stretched, until Lira broke it gently. “Why do we act like this?” she murmured, sliding a slice of bread onto my plate. “It’s as though we’re strangers to each other.”

Her words rang too close to truth. I swallowed hard and forced a smile, though it faltered around the edges. “Thank you,” I said softly, giving her a small gesture of gratitude before tearing the bread apart and occupying my hands, my lips curving faintly into a mask of calm.

Across the table, Amera leaned slightly toward Aeron, her voice carrying a feigned sweetness. “Aeron, could you give me some beef?”

His hand moved without hesitation. “Yeah, sure.” He placed a piece neatly onto her plate.

My chest tightened, though I forced myself not to react. Not here. Not in front of them. Instead, I kept my head lowered and busied myself with chewing. They wanted to see me break, wanted to see me jealous, but I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, telling myself again and again that I wasn’t affected. Not by Amera. Not even by Aeron’s silence.

Elder Marvic’s voice shattered the tense atmosphere, calm but sharp. “The blood moon is near.” His gaze fixed on me, his words heavy, deliberate. “Selene, are you ready? Are you prepared to face them before the blood moon rises?”

The question landed like a stone in my stomach. My fork froze halfway to my mouth, and I forced myself to lift my eyes, meeting his steady stare. I had made a decision before—I would offer myself. But now, sitting here, the thought of stepping willingly into their grasp… the thought of dying without striking back, without fighting…

“I…” My voice cracked before I steadied it. “I’m sorry, Elder. I can’t.”

The room went utterly silent. Everyone froze, their faces shifting from surprise to disbelief.

“I changed my mind,” I continued, every word cutting the air like a blade. “I won’t give myself to them. I need to stay here. I need to train… to prepare myself for what’s coming.”

Amera let out a short laugh, almost mocking. “Train yourself? For what?”

Her eyes glinted as if daring me to answer. I bit down on my tongue, unsure what to say, heat crawling up my neck.

“She’s training with me,” Lira said suddenly, her voice firm. “I’m teaching her how to fight, how to use the bow. She’s chosen not to surrender, and I support her decision.”

Harold leaned forward, his tone laced with disdain. “You train her? Even though her wolf is still dormant? You waste your time, Lira. She’s nothing but a burden.”

His sneer hit me like a slap. My hands tightened on my lap, knuckles pale, nails biting into my palms.

Amera chimed in, raising a sharp brow as she stared at me. “Harold’s right. She’s cursed. Weak. She’ll never endure the training you want for her. You should know better, Lira.”

Their words crashed down on me, each one heavier than the last. Useless. Cursed. Weak. My chest ached with the weight of it, but I clenched my fists tighter, refusing to let my tears show here—not in front of them.

Lira’s growl vibrated in the air, low and dangerous. “Enough! You’ll see. She’s stronger than you think.”

The tension grew sharp, a storm brewing, until Aeron suddenly rose to his feet. His voice rang firm, commanding, slicing through the room.

“Stop.”

The word carried power, and everyone fell silent. His eyes swept over the table, lingering on me for the briefest moment before he turned to Elder Marvic.

“I will face the priest and the king,” he declared. His voice was steady, but underneath, I heard the desperation. “Selene will stay here.”

The words struck me like a blow. He was defending me—yet at the same time, he was keeping me from the fight. A war raged in my chest, between relief and frustration, between the warmth of his protection and the sting of being shielded away like something fragile.

But as Aeron’s fists tightened at his sides, as his jaw set with determination, I realized something else.