A Normal Day Part Three
1160 Words
Ashen.
Ravenna laughed softly. “Princess, you are going to make me think you care.”
“I do care.”
“Oh, I know. It is all over your face. Very sweet. Very territorial.”
Moon’s hand tightened around the frost lily.
Ravenna leaned slightly closer to me, though still not touching.
“May I sit beside you without touching, Snow Prince? Or will your moonbeam bite?”
Moon moved.
I caught her wrist gently before she threw honey at Ravenna.
“Moon.”
Ravenna’s gaze dropped to my hand on Moon’s wrist.
Interest flickered across her face.
Then she touched my arm.
Just two fingers.
Lightly.
My muscles flexed.
Not because I wanted her touch.
Because every instinct in me reacted to a threat too close.
Ravenna noticed the movement and smiled like she had discovered a secret.
“Oh.”
Moon growled again.
This time, Storm was in it.
Ravenna laughed.
Something in me snapped tight.
Not anger.
Not desire.
Too much.
Too close.
Too many eyes.
Too many expectations.
Moon’s hurt.
Ravenna’s amusement.
The contract humming beneath my ring.
My own body not knowing whether to freeze, retreat, or command the room into silence.
“Leave,” I said.
The word came out wrong.
Not loud.
Not harsh.
But full of that same weight from the clearing.
Ravenna’s smile vanished.
Her body stood before her face agreed.
The cup fell from her hand into the snow.
For one second, she fought it.
I saw it.
Her shoulders stiffened. Her fangs flashed. Her red eyes widened with fury as her body turned away from the blanket and took one step back.
Then another.
Away from me.
Away from the picnic.
Away because I had told her to leave.
No.
Because I had commanded her.
The red-frost mark on her wrist burned bright.
I stood too fast.
“Ravenna—”
She could not stop walking.
Her face twisted with humiliation.
Moon rose beside me, anger gone from her face now, replaced by something colder and more complicated.
The contract dragged Ravenna toward the cottage until she crossed the back stones.
Only then did the compulsion release.
She spun around.
Her eyes were wet with rage.
Not tears.
Never tears.
Rage.
“You,” she said softly, “need to learn the difference between speaking and ruling.”
My stomach dropped.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Ravenna laughed once.
There was nothing amused in it.
“That is becoming your most destructive habit.”
I took a step forward.
She stepped back.
Not because she feared me.
Because she hated that she might not have a choice if I spoke again.
That stopped me more effectively than any blade.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Her face hardened.
“No.” Her voice went cold. “Do not apologize like a wounded saint. I touched you because I wanted a reaction. I got one. Congratulations to me. But you commanded me because you panicked.”
I could not deny it.
Moon looked at me.
Not with blame.
But not with comfort either.
That was worse.
Ravenna’s gaze flicked to Moon.
“And you,” she said, “may sheathe the mate glare. I am not trying to steal your wolf.”
Moon’s chin lifted. “Then stop touching him.”
Ravenna smiled slowly, cruelly.
“I touch people I dislike all the time.”
“You flirt with people you dislike.”
“Yes.” Ravenna’s eyes cut to me. “It keeps them beneath me.”
Silence.
Then she turned toward the cottage.
“I am going to my stolen room. If anyone commands me again before sunset, I will become insufferable in ways even gods fear.”
She walked away.
This time by choice.
The picnic sat ruined between us.
The tea steamed in the cold.
The frost lilies shivered in Moon’s lap.
I stared at the place Ravenna had disappeared.
Moon was quiet for a long moment.
Then she said, “You should not have done that.”
“I know.”
“She was pushing you.”
“I know.”
“She wanted to upset me.”
“I know.”
Moon looked at me.
“But the command was wrong.”
My throat tightened.
“Yes.”
Her anger softened, not gone, but gentler now.
“You are learning power you did not know you had.”
“That does not excuse it.”
“No.” She stepped closer. “But it means you have to learn faster.”
I looked at my ring.
At the hand that had made Ravenna obey.
“I do not want to rule anyone like that.”
Moon touched my wrist carefully.
“Then start by learning when to say no before you become overwhelmed enough to command.”
That was fair.
Painfully fair.
“I should have stopped her sooner,” I said.
“Yes.”
“I did not know how.”
“I know.”
I looked at her.
She looked back.
“I am not angry because Ravenna flirted,” she said.
“You growled.”
“I am allowed to growl.”
Despite everything, my mouth almost curved.
Moon’s eyes narrowed. “Do not smile.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were thinking about it.”
The almost-smile faded.
Moon sighed.
“I am angry because she was trying to make you uncomfortable, and I watched you freeze because you did not know if you had the right to tell her no.”
I had no defense against that.
She moved closer.
“You do,” she said softly. “You have the right to tell anyone no. Even me.”
The words settled between us.
Quiet.
Heavy.
Necessary.
“I know,” I said.
Then, because she deserved honesty, I added, “I am trying to know.”
Moon’s expression softened.
She picked up the fallen cup and set it upright in the snow.
“Our date was going well.”
“I ruined it.”
“Ravenna helped.”
“I commanded her.”
“Yes.” Moon looked toward the cottage. “You need to fix that.”
“I will.”
She nodded once.
Then she held out the frost lily.
“But not before you eat something. You planned this date, and I refuse to let a vampire queen with boundary issues steal the entire thing.”
I stared at her.
She lifted a brow. “Sit down, Ashen.”
For a heartbeat, I just looked at her.
Then I sat.
Not because her voice forced me.
Because I wanted to.
Moon sat beside me.
Closer than before.
Her shoulder touched mine.
The date was no longer normal.
Maybe it never had been.
But when Moon broke the bread and placed half in my hand, I understood something simple.
Normal was not the absence of ruined moments.
Maybe normal was staying after them.
- Writer
