Chapter 124
Nora's POV
The fire leaped in the night, accompanied by laughter around us. I watched Emily and Freya gathering plates and napkins from the scattered tables.
I set down my empty glass and stood, intending to help clean up, when I noticed Emily straightening and brushing off her hands. The timing felt right.
"Emily," I said, walking over to her. She glanced up, her expression open and friendly. I hesitated, then spoke. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
I lowered my voice slightly, aware that a few others were still within earshot. "If I ever found myself in real danger—facing a lycan who'd lost control—what could I actually do to protect myself?"
Emily's casual demeanor shifted. Her gaze sharpened, assessing me with the cool precision of someone who'd seen violence up close. She set the plates down on the table and crossed her arms.
"Why are you asking?"
"What happened today made me realize how defenseless I am. I don't want to always need someone else to save me."
Emily studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "All right. First rule: never try to fight a lycan in full shift head-on. The strength gap is too wide. You'd be dead in under three seconds."
I swallowed hard but kept my expression steady.
"If you have no choice but to fight back," she continued, her tone brisk and matter-of-fact, "go for the eyes, throat, or groin. Those are the only vulnerable spots when they're shifted. Don't aim for the body—you won't do enough damage to matter."
I committed every word to memory.
"Silver," Emily said next. "Carry something silver on you. Even a necklace or a ring can cause burns bad enough to buy you time to run."
"Noted," I murmured.
"And take a self-defense class. Not some yoga-studio cardio kickboxing bullshit. Real training. The goal isn't to win—it's to escape."
Emily's hand landed on my shoulder, firm and grounding. "You've got good instincts, asking this. But remember, the best defense is never putting yourself in a position where you're isolated and outnumbered. Assess the risk before you walk into it."
"I will," I said quietly. "Thank you."
She gave me a faint smile. "You're tougher than you think, Nora. Just don't forget that being smart is part of being tough."
As she walked away to rejoin Freya, I stood there for a moment, letting her words settle. Smart. Not reckless. I'd have to remember that.
---
Someone tossed more wood onto the coals, and the fire crackled louder, sending a fresh plume of sparks spiraling into the night. Zachary fiddled with a Bluetooth speaker until upbeat country rock poured out, the rhythm infectious. Freya appeared with three cases of craft beer, grinning as she announced, "Party continues."
She handed out bottles, the glass cold and slick with condensation. Everyone raised their drinks in a loose toast, voices overlapping in cheerful chaos. I stared down at the beer in my hand, hesitating. My tolerance had always been terrible, and the last time I drank too much, I'd ended up misunderstanding Julian.
But the warmth of the fire, the easy laughter around me, the way Julian glanced over and raised his bottle slightly in my direction—it all pulled me in.
Just a little, I told myself.
I took a cautious sip. The bitterness hit first, followed by a faint malty sweetness. I wrinkled my nose.
"Don't sip it like a kitten lapping milk," Freya said, elbowing me lightly. "Commit."
I took a longer drink, then another. The alcohol spread warmth through my chest, loosening the tight coil of tension I'd been carrying since the beach.
Freya grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the fire, where Emily was already swaying to the music. The three of us danced in a loose circle, our movements uncoordinated but joyful. At first, I felt stiff and self-conscious, but the music and the beer worked together, loosening my limbs until I stopped caring how I looked.
I laughed when Freya spun me too fast and I nearly tripped over my own feet. Emily caught my elbow, steadying me with a grin.
I felt a long-lost sense of lightness.
---
The music eventually stopped. The fire burned low, reduced to glowing embers that pulsed faintly in the darkness. People began to scatter, heading back to their cabins in twos and threes.
Freya leaned heavily against Emily's shoulder, her words slurred. "That actor in the show we watched... he's got nothing on Julian. Nothing."
She giggled at her own joke, then her head lolled to the side and she went completely limp.
Emily sighed, shaking her head with fond exasperation. "She's done."
Zachary arranged for someone to take Freya back to her room.
"Goodnight, everyone," Zachary said over his shoulder as he headed toward their cabin with Emily.
I waved.
---
I stood and stretched, planning to head back to my own cabin, when something caught my eye on the table. A phone, its screen reflecting the pale moonlight.
I picked it up and checked the lock screen. Emily's.
She'd probably need it to set an alarm for the morning. I should return it.
The walk to her cabin was short, but the effects of the beer became more noticeable with every step. My balance felt off, my movements slightly delayed, like my body was on a one-second lag. The cool night air helped clear my head a little, but not enough.
As I approached their cabin, I slowed.
Moonlight spilled across the porch, illuminating two figures pressed together against the wall. Zachary had Emily pinned there, one hand braced beside her head, the other curled around her waist. They were kissing, deep and unhurried, completely absorbed in each other.
I froze.
My brain, fogged by alcohol, took a moment to catch up. Then I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound.
Oh my God. Turn around. Leave. Now.
I spun on my heel, tiptoeing backward as quietly as I could, silently chanting, I saw nothing. I saw nothing.
"Nora?"
I nearly jumped out of my skin.