Chapter 73 Rogue

Chapter 73 Rogue
Luna’s POV

The next morning brings a somber reminder of last night.
I do not sleep well, rising before dawn with sweat beading on my face.

The nightmare fades, albeit a bit slower.
I am transported back to my days as a mere servant, listening to howls in the night, afraid I would be captured by rogues, attacked by unseen foes.
I turn my gaze to the window.

The curtains flutter in the breeze, which seems chillier than usual.
Outside, the moon gleams brightly, calling to me. I move on trembling bare feet to sit by the window. Without a robe to shield me, the nightgown clings to my skin, and I am left chilled.

For some reason, my mind returns over and over again tk the same thing: the Hounds.
Not merely due to the occurrences of last night’s banquet, but something deeper.
A thread of mystery that draws me, frightening in all aspects.

Thinking over what I have gleaned from Gale and Calla the previous night, my fingers tap on the windowsill as I contemplate my role in all this.
While I am no Alpha, that Ymir would inform me of this is more than enough to set my nerves on edge.

For however long I sit there, the moonlight keeps me company, before it fades as daylight comes.
I do not stir from my thoughts until the door is knocked upon and opens for the maids to walk in.

The two of them have a pensive expression, but smooths it out when she notices me already up.
Still holding a full basket of laundry, the maid on the left bows.
“Greetings Lady Luna,” her voice lowered, as though afraid I was still asleep.

I nod in response, frowning slightly.
These are not the maids I am used to.
I part my lips to inquire then promptly close it back, not one word leaving my lips.
Noticing my reticence, the maids exchange a glance before stepping forward.

“Today’s the full moon festivities,” the second maid continues, her face lighting up a tinge at the words ‘full moon’. “Everyone is quite busy, Miss, especially with the large number of guests.”

“Of course,” I murmured. The nightmare from last night resurfaces. I have been a little too tense this morning, I decide and exhale softly. “I hear the parties here are grand.”

“Perhaps,” the other maid smiles. “There would be a lunch party and the full moon run to attend to, miss. We shall get you prepared for the day.”

I nod slowly.
“I shall have breakfast in my room.” I state, thinking of how long these preparations tend to take.
How the act of bathing and getting dressed takes hours now, i have no idea.

As the maids carry out their cleaning duties I sigh, my fingers twitching as I refrained from rising. It is a knee-jerk reaction to wish for a task to do, to keep my head down and serve. It is something I have done for 21 years after all, a few months of change does not erase the past so easily.

Being waited on is still quite new for me, and now my position as a top tribute comes with newfound respect from servants and nobles alike. I have yet to fully adjust to it.

Only when I am brought breakfast from the kitchens do I rise to my feet, shifting my vantage point from the windowsill to the table. The meal is light, a bowl of porridge with several side dishes. The stir fried vegetables, fried bacon and eggs makes my mouth water.
I am about to pick up the spoon to begin my meal when I hear the Wolf in my head, loud and clear.

‘Don't eat that.’ It is a growl that gives off the sensation of someone whispering in my ear, too close for comfort.

My hand stills.
‘What do you mean?’
Is this the Wolf throwing tantrums again?

‘Don't eat THAT.’ The Wolf warns. ‘It smells like poison.’

My heart jolts. I look around and find the maids still busily cleaning, not looking in my direction.
The unease which has built up since last night settles in my chest.

‘Poison?’ I ask the Wolf, still unsure. It is impulsive, acting on primal instinct alone. But what has happened this time, that it suddenly warns me? 

‘The meal is poisoned, master. Do not eat it, or we shall perish.’

The third time.
Its voice sounds very complacent, very mild.

I wonder why, when in another instant, a loud roar echoes in my head, making me scream out loud and clutch my head.
The Wolf growls, howling of pain in my head.

‘RUN!’ I hear it, and rise to my feet with effort.
Then an arm grabs me.

“Miss?’ The voice is of the maid but it sounds strange. Almost… mocking.

Alarm bells ring.
This is an impostor.

I lash out, shoving the maid away, raising my head to stare at them. My vision growls blurry at the edges and confusion sets in.
Why?
They both stare at me with smirks on their faces, and for the first time I notice a detail I have previously not.
A tattoo on both their wrists, slightly hidden by the long sleeves of the maid’s uniform.

Rushing forward I grasp a maid’s arm and rip the sleeve from her arm.

My blood runs cold.
The Hounds.

They are Rogues.

“It’s too late, Lady Luna,” The maid’s… no, ROGUE’S voice rings out with stunning clarity.

That’s when I noticed it. The scent. My nostrils flare.
I had been so deep in thought that I had not noticed when they lit an incense. Nearly odorless. Enough to weaken me.

The Wolf is quiet. Asleep. My knees buckle. I stumble backward, mind racing through the mire, akin to pushing through quicksand.

I must get help.
I must inform Kael. Rowan. Anyone…

“It’s still quite early. No one will notice,” I hear the maid call out with a laugh. It batters my will, but I remain strong.

The poison is in my system.

When another hand grasps my arm, I yell out, and heat surges from my fingers.

“LET GO OF ME!”

Screams emerge.
…