473- The Bet
POV Thalyndra Moonclaw:
Aurelka nodded.
"It happens sometimes. It's not common, but it's not rare either. Anyway, they're fine, thank the heavens."
Lupine pregnancy wasn't one of my favorite topics. I knew a few things about it, though. Heat served for procreation; instincts became heightened. Men became primitive when their wives were pregnant, and women became protective of themselves. At least, that's what my mother told me.
"Yes, good that everything worked out in the end," Anton agreed.
I finished all the food on my plate and drank all my coffee, renewing my energy. I wiped my lips with a napkin and stood up.
"I'm going to my room," I announced. "I need to take a bath."
They stared at me.
"Alright, I'll be around if you want company," Aurelka said.
I nodded.
"Thank you."
I spun on my heels and headed toward the stairs, not waiting for Anton or Myrion to do anything. I ran up the steps and entered the room, closing the door behind me.
If I concentrated hard enough, I could hear what they were saying downstairs, but that wasn't my intention or my desire.
I entered the bathroom and observed my reflection in the mirror above the sink. There were dry leaves stuck in my hair, and my face was slightly dirty with soil on my chin. But no matter how much I should have been, there was no tiredness in my eyes.
I huffed.
Anton was right, that damned liar. The night hadn't been as unpleasant as I'd imagined it would be, but that didn't diminish the fact that he had lied to me. I let out a low growl.
Deep down, I knew I didn't care that much about his lie, but admitting that would make me crazier than him, so it was better to deny it with all my might.
I spread my hands on the cold sink and leaned closer to the mirror, staring through the depths of my eyes. The brown glow emerged, dominating my irises, transforming them into something animal. There it was — the part of me he so badly wanted me to feel and learn to deal with.
My nails elongated, turning into claws. I opened my mouth and watched the fangs that had emerged in place of my teeth.
I let out a strangled laugh.
"I must be going crazy; Anton is driving me crazy..." I whispered.
I stepped away from the sink and began removing my clothes.
There was only one reason behind the things he said. If I connected more, if I knew how to handle this, I'd be much better at everything, including killing the Merchants.
Well, it was time to learn who I really was, who I was born to be. I no longer lived among humans; I no longer needed to hide, to hold back. It was time to change.
...
I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds the forest emitted. I was sitting on the ground, legs crossed and hands resting on them. The tree branches shielded me from the hot sun. There was a thin layer of sweat on my skin. The stifling summer day was bearable, but not comfortable.
I took a deep breath, absorbing all the scents around me. Pine was the predominant one, followed by earth and the sweetness of flowers. The animals had a specific aroma—I could distinguish them.
I heard a noise to my right, two trees away. It didn't come from the ground, but from above. It smelled of bitter nuts and fresh wood, with a touch of damp fur and turned earth.
A squirrel.
I lifted my lips in a smile, satisfied with what I was managing to do.
I focused again, analyzing the environment around me more closely. There were other animals, so many that perhaps I wouldn't even be able to identify each one. My goal wasn't to get them all right, but to locate them.
Being a lupine, I was an excellent hunter, just like all others of the species—I just needed to learn to explore my abilities.
I stayed silent, keeping my eyes closed for an endless fraction of seconds. Frustration threatened to overwhelm me. I didn't let myself be defeated—I kept my mind open and my ears attentive.
Then I heard a light rustling among the dry leaves and a scratching of tiny claws against the earth and brittle branches. It was far away, perhaps ten trees away. I flared my nostrils, sniffing. Its scent was subtle, a mix of almonds with a light touch of moss.
I had no idea what it was.
Huffing, I opened my eyes and fixed them in that direction.
Near the trunk, among the fallen leaves, there was a small field mouse lurking. Its grayish fur, with a touch of gold, blended perfectly with the forest floor. Its large, attentive black eyes gleamed, reflecting the light filtered through the treetops. It moved with agility, almost like a ghost among the low branches, its thick, furry tail swaying slightly, balancing each leap.
I let out a low laugh.
It stopped, as if noticing my presence, then ran far away, hiding from me. My smile widened.
Life in the wild wasn't so bad. It was fun to observe the animals, to discover the scent each one possessed.
I loved the characteristic smell of books, of pages. I could tell if they were old or new just by the odor they gave off. But this was different from everything I was used to. Not a bad different—a good different.
I tilted my neck from side to side, stretching the muscles. I closed my eyes.
I caught the constant buzzing of insects nearby. The sound of a large beetle, with hard wings, flying heavily among the branches, produced a low, almost mechanical noise. Closer to the ground, crickets hidden in the vegetation sang intermittently, with that rhythmic, high-pitched sound. The almost imperceptible flapping of butterflies' wings created a light current of air.
It was all perfect, even magical.