Chapter 11:
1321 Words
As soon as Lior leaves, I set the ice pack down and a shiver runs through my spine at its absence.
One of the many reasons why I try not to get myself involved in a fight is because I never have what it takes to defend myself.
Not that I can't physically, I'm just not emotionally built to hurt people. I don't get that concept for some odd reason.
By the time the kitchen’s warmth settles into my bones, I’m convinced the ache on my cheek has set up a permanent residence.
Every part of me feels sore, but it’s the inside that hurts the most—the part where my dignity used to live.
I’m hunched over a tray of carrots, trying to act like nothing happened, when a soft knock on the side door makes me glance up.
It’s Lior. Again?
Of course it’s Lior again.
His smile is the kind that can stop a hurricane, easy and bright, like the sun after a thunderstorm.
He’s holding a small jar, the kind Silas uses for his potions and ointments. I blink in confusion as if asking why he's back.
“Special delivery,” he says, striding toward me and ignoring my questioning gaze. “Silas said it’s for the dragon scratches.”
I scoff and rub my cheek. “Didn’t know Zara qualified as a dragon now.”
He winces, but he’s still smiling. “I didn’t say that. But if the shoe breathes fire...”
That actually makes me laugh. A real one. The first since—goddess knows when.
He places the jar on the counter and leans on it, arms folded. “You okay?”
“Physically? Sure. Emotionally?” I gesture vaguely to my chest. “Bit of a landslide.”
“Good. Means you’re still alive.”
I give him a look. “That’s... not exactly comforting.”
“Well, I’m not Silas. I don’t do wise, herbal-healing speeches. But I do offer jokes, bad ones.” He grins and then nods toward the stool in the corner. “You sitting or am I just going to stand here and look pretty while you pass out from exhaustion?”
“You think you look pretty?” I tease, sinking onto the stool.
He shrugs. “My mom says I’m adorable. That counts, right?”
I laugh again, and this time, the ache eases. It’s nice. Being around Lior is nice.
"You ever heard of the phrase, 'the face only a mother can love?'"
"Are you really going to tell me that I'm ugly after I went all the way to Silas to get these?" He huffs, and I feel guilt settle in my chest.
"No...no...that's not what–"
"Relax," he chuckles, "I'm only teasing you."
A sigh of relief escapes me before I can even think about it and he notices. He shakes his head and picks up a jar of ointment.
“So,” he says, cracking open the ointment and gently dabbing some on my cheek with a cloth. His touch is feather-light, careful. “What’s your favorite dessert?”
“What?”
He smiles. “Trying to distract you. Works better than silence. So? Dessert?”
"He's definitely trying to know us better," Kira whispers in my head, and it takes all that's within me to stifle the thought to avoid a blush creeping to my face and neck.
“Umm... probably blackberry pie. The kind with that sugar crust.”
“Nice,” he says. “Points for good taste. I’m more of a banana bread guy. Warm, with lots of butter.”
“Why does that fit you?” I ask with a small giggle.
He raises a brow. “Because I’m soft and sweet?”
Kira snorts in my head. "Or soft in the head... but yeah, he's kinda cute."
"Shut up," I mutter silently, cheeks heating.
"I don't think I like to shut up Tamsin. That's a flaw of mine." Lior chuckles and I almost die in embarrassment.
“That wasn't meant for you,” I tell him quickly. “It's my wolf.”
He chuckles. “Ah, the peanut gallery. Mine never shuts up either.”
“Do you talk to him a lot?” I ask, curious.
“He’s more of a backseat driver. And a food critic.” He pulls away, examining my cheek. “You’ll bruise a little, but this’ll help.”
“Thanks,” I whisper. I mean it. For the ointment. For the conversation. For just... being here.
He gives me a wink, then straightens up. “Okay, so blackberry pie...and uh...what about weird habits?”
I blink. “Are you doing a survey?”
He laughs, a sweet sound I wish lasts longer than it does. “Do you have trust issues?"
"I'm just concerned."
"I just want to know you, Tamsin. You're sweet, but I bet there's someone about you that's definitely not so sweet. You know, to balance out the sweetness."
I think for a second. “Okay, don’t laugh... but I always eat my meals in color order. Like, carrots before peas. Peas before meat.”
He clutches his heart. “A true psychopath. You’re dangerous, Tamsin.”
“What about you?”
He grins. “I talk to squirrels when I hunt. Like, full conversations. Ask Silas.”
“I believe you,” I say, giggling.
He steps back and gives me face a little check out before he nods, ruffling his hair. “Alright, I’ve got patrol. But hey—don’t let the bitterness get to you. You’re more than what they say.”
"I'll try to keep that in mind."
"That's a very sarcastic reply," he clicks his fingers and points at me. "I love it."
I smile as he bows and turns to leave. Even after a while he's gone, I feel warmth spreading through my chest.
"Kira," I think. "He’s just... nice."
"He’s nice, he’s cute, he smells like leather... I’m just saying."
"No feelings. We don’t do feelings."
Kira hums sassily. "Too late, cupcake."
The warm feeling that Lior leaves in my chest doesn’t last long.
I'm back to kitchen work, elbow-deep in potato skins when I notice Elara across the room.
She hasn’t said a word since the drama with Zara earlier today, not even a glance. That’s not unusual lately, but after today... I’ve had enough.
“Elara,” I call out to her, trying to keep my voice level. “Are you going to keep acting like I’m invisible or do you want to tell me what your problem is?”
She turns slowly, wiping her hands on her apron. “My problem? You made a scene. You slapped the Alpha.”
“He insulted me,” I snap.
“He’s still the Alpha. And Zara—Zara’s the Luna now. You disrespected both of them in front of half the omegas.”
I frown. “Zara attacked me.”
“She was defending her mate.”
I cross my arms. “So, what, I’m just supposed to take it? Bow to her because she has a fancy title and a mating mark?”
She glares at me, her lips tight. “You’re making everything worse for yourself, Tamsin.”
“I’m just existing! I didn’t ask for this!”
She exhales sharply. “You’re embarrassing yourself. You got rejected, deal with it! Also, stop throwing yourself at Lior like he’s a consolation prize. It’s pathetic.”
The words hit like a slap, sharper than Zara’s.
“I’m not throwing myself at anyone,” I whisper, but my voice shakes.
She raises a brow. “You sure about that?”
I can’t do this. Not now.
I drop the peeler in the sink and walk out without another word, ignoring the sting behind my eyes.
Kira is quiet for once. Even she doesn’t have a comeback.
- Writer
