49- The Dress That Awoke the Beast
POV Lunara Grimwald:
Well… I didn’t exactly obey Edric’s orders either, nor would I ever. But Thalira and he had history; she seemed to do everything she could to please him and get his attention. It was a bit contradictory.
“Miss Thalira has a difficult temper.” She sighed, shaking her head. “She was Miss Catalina’s best friend.”
I opened my mouth in a round “o” and turned fully to her.
“What?”
The wretched woman, besides being a damned bitch, was a traitor.
Nicoleta finished straightening the bed, gathered her cleaning supplies, and moved toward the door.
“They were best friends, but after Miss Catalina’s death, Miss Thalira and Mr. Edric grew close, since only the two of them understood the magnitude of their grief.”
“Has… has it been a long time since Catalina died?” I stammered, feeling crushed by the she-wolf’s story.
“About fifty years.”
“And how did she die?” I pressed. Nicoleta smiled faintly.
“Perhaps one day Mr. Edric will tell you the story.” She cleared her throat.
“We cannot speak much of it; he gets upset when someone brings it up.”
“All right,” I sighed, lifting the box with the dress. “I’ll get ready for the funeral.”
She nodded.
“I’m heading home to prepare as well.”
I went into the bathroom and let the towel fall. I pulled the dress out and slipped it over my body. It was a little too big on me, the skirt dragging on the ground from being too long. I gathered the sides and lifted them. It would be easy to trip if I wasn’t careful. There was also extra fabric at the chest.
It was one-shouldered, tight to the waist, with a long, rounded skirt cascading down. Though simple, it was very beautiful and clearly crafted by skilled hands, the seams well-made.
It wasn’t ugly, though it was a size too large.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I wouldn’t put on makeup; it would only make things worse if I cried again. I brushed my hair, working through the tangles with some difficulty.
The damp strands clung to the skin of my neck and shoulders, dripping onto the light fabric. My hair had grown since I arrived in the village. After my fateful wedding, I had cut the locks—once reaching my waist—down to just below my shoulders, because it was one of the things Alessio said he liked about me. Now, they already fell to the middle of my back.
I gripped the cold sides of the sink and sighed.
The story of Edric, Catalina, and Thalira wouldn’t leave my head. I would hate them both if that had happened to me. My best friend and my fiancé together. I didn’t care that she had died and they had found a way to overcome grief; it still wasn’t right.
I returned to the bedroom, grabbed a comfortable pair of sneakers, and slipped them on. The chances of tripping over the dress would be even greater in heels.
I cast one last glance toward the window and stepped out of the room.
The house was silent, but the warmth in my chest as I descended the stairs was a sure sign it wasn’t empty. He was near.
I stopped at the last step.
Edric was staring through the wide glass window, the muscles of his back rigid beneath the white shirt he wore. His hands were shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, and he breathed slowly.
“What did you do with the heads?” I asked, remembering the romantic decoration he had made for me.
It had been days since the dinner, and I imagined Nicoleta must have been startled when she saw them, just as she probably spent a long time disinfecting the place. She was a bit obsessive about cleaning.
“I had Andrei bury them,” he replied, still with his back to me. “I didn’t want Nicoleta to die of a heart attack.”
“I bet the cleaning was heavy,” I retorted, sliding my hand slightly along the railing.
He laughed, though there was no humor in it.
“She used up a month’s worth of cleaning supplies in a single morning. I think that answers your question.”
He turned toward me but froze mid-motion. His lips parted in shock, his brows furrowed. The silver in his eyes spread, swallowing the blue.
“What the fuck is this?” he hissed, his voice barely more than a low whisper.
I looked behind me, then down and to the sides, trying to understand the meaning of his shock, but found nothing unusual. I focused, absorbing his emotions.
Anger. Horror. Sadness. Surprise.
He was so confused it made me dizzy. I blinked, trying to ignore his feelings. Gripping the skirts of my dress, I lifted them and took a step, finishing my descent.
“I don’t know if I understand,” I confessed. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of me. He raised his hand and brushed his fingertips against the dress. He seemed too perplexed to say anything.
“Edric?” I called. But he didn’t answer.
It was as if he were lost somewhere in his memories, in the shadows of the past. He looked at the clothes, at me, but it wasn’t as if he could truly see me.
My heart raced as panic began to spread through me.
The hand that wandered over the dress shot up toward my neck, closing around it. Edric blinked, the haze in his gaze fading.
The chaos of emotions inside him collapsed, devoured, until only one remained, overpowering all the rest: rage.
He brought his face close to mine and inhaled deeply, taking in my scent. His fingers around my neck were firm, but not tight enough to hurt or suffocate. His eyes flickered, shifting between gold and blue.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.
“What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m ready to go to Ruda’s funeral,” I shot back defensively.
His thumb slid across the skin of my neck, tracing an idle circle.
“In that outfit?”
I frowned in confusion.
“It’s the one you left for me, in a box, in my room.”
He was silent for another moment, close enough that I could absorb every note of his scent. My wolf purred, as if approving the aroma, though she was still far too upset.
He let me go and stepped back, breaking the contact, as if my skin burned him.
“Let’s go to the ritual. And behave yourself. If you pull any stupid stunt, you’ll find out what it’s like to be a prisoner in this pack,” he muttered harshly, turning his gaze away, ignoring me.
If it were only to embarrass him, I would’ve definitely done something. Being locked inside the house was the least of my problems. But with the way his pack was, it would only make them hate me more and despise me further. And besides, it was Ruda’s last moment with his family and his pack—he deserved respect.
Edric walked ahead of me, storming toward the front door with hard, angry steps.
I waited a moment before following, keeping a safe distance.
He had mood problems, I was sure of it, because those swings were anything but normal.