Chapter 5 - What Are You Dreading?

1531 Words
Evie 11 days later The party was pretty much set for tomorrow. The only things to cover now were the fresher items, like the cakes. The other kitchen staff were busy baking, under Lucy's close watch, who made sure everyone followed her recipes to the letter. I had managed to finally get the woman to go with me to the shifting specialist she had seen last time about her symptoms that were still persisting and continuing to keep her up at night. I had almost had to resort to stuffing her under my arm and marching her to the doctor’s office. Fortunately, the threat alone had been sufficient and I was right to have worried. The doctor said her symptoms shouldn’t have lasted this long and when she was asked if there was anything else that could be the cause, she said no and looked away. Her doctor prescribed some medication, a concoction of pain relief and diluted wolfsbane, to give her body time to adjust to new hormone levels. It would subdue her wolf, Lobelia, temporarily, but Lucy said her wolf was for it. If I was suspicious before that she was hiding something big, now I knew it for sure. I had been dropping hints for her to tell me and it was about time to tie her to the bed, to pry the story from her. But, whatever the true cause was, the medication was working. Lucy's golden dewy skin, her deep red hair and her bright hazel eyes were all full of lustre once more. Gone were the dark circles under her eyes, though, she was missing her wolf's voice; she was there, just unclear, like a distant echo. While I had never experienced wolfsbane, and neither did I want to, all wolves were taught about it in school. The toxins, monobasic diterpenoid alkaloids - which I was impressed I could remember - would normally inhibit the link between the human and wolf sides in the brain. And where it would cause paralysis in humans, it triggered pain receptors in werewolves, causing a burning sensation. The wolfsbane in Lucy's medication was nowhere near strong enough to cause her harm and the painkillers managed any discomfort. But for the time being, her wolf was somewhat suppressed and she was unable to shift; all intended effects that would revert when she stopped taking it. I was almost tempted to take some myself. I had always imagined what my wolf would be like. What I hadn't expected was that her sarcasm would not only rival my own but, at times, surpass it. It was like hearing your own voice played back to you and thinking, 'goddess, I don't sound like that… do I?' I knew why I got in trouble before, but now I truly had a sense of the severity of my smart mouth. Heading back into the pack kitchen for my last shift before the big day tomorrow, which had me uncharacteristically nervous as hell, what greeted me first was Lucy's music. Goddess, what the hell was she listening to now? She had been playing Fleetwood Mac till our ears bled. I loved the band, but after the hundredth time in one week, it was getting a little much. This evening, she had gone with a more disco beat... "Luce, what the s**t are you listening to? And why are they singing about Rasputin and him being Russia's greatest love machine?" Her music choice was making me regret this arrangement, although this song was batshit enough to be pretty good. "It's Boney M. This is peak disco greatness. If you don't like it, you are more than welcome to go be Janet's b***h instead of mine. I can have a word with the Luna?" She smirked, looking smug and knowing full well I'd rather hack off a limb. "You win this round, sir," I narrowed my eyes and grabbed my apron. The last thing we had to make was the apple custard slice. I tended to go a little heavy on the vanilla and spice, but if that was the way it was preferred, then so be it. There was a strange sense of satisfaction that the one thing I loved to make was Astennu and Badru’s favourite… not that I cared what they liked, although I did wonder why. It wasn’t as though it was anything fancy or decadent. I made the layers and Lucy arranged and made the decorations to go on top, a collection of delicate leaves made from pastry. Once the mass load of traybakes were out of the oven and cooled enough, we set them in the fridge to fully set overnight. Lucy and I were the last ones left, so she took full liberty in singing, at volume and slightly off-key. As much as I wanted to tape her mouth closed, she looked so carefree once more; something that had been slowly fading since she first shifted. "I don't know about you, but my bed is calling me," I yawned, noticing the clock was fast approaching midnight and the two of us would be up early in the morning. "Yeah… these last few months went by way too quick," she sighed, a distressed frown crept onto her face. "How come you're dreading Astennu and Badru coming back?" As far as I knew, she had never had a run-in with them. I might have found them to be jerks, but I would defend them on one thing: they never harassed or bullied anyone in the pack. "Oh, uhh, no. I mean the last few weeks," she backed tracked rather quickly. The only other person that had been away was Finley. Had he harassed her? Unless… no f*****g way! The moon goddess would not be that cruel… would she? That was it. I didn't care what time it was. I was getting the truth from Lucy tonight. I finished up my half of the cleaning, trying to act as natural as possible while also trying to ignore the tense silence that had settled in. It hadn’t eased, even as we approached our respective bedroom doors. “S-see you tomorrow!” She tried to speak with fake enthusiasm and a tight smile. I followed her into her room before she could protest and shut the door, standing in front of it. “Ok. What is really going on?” I asked bluntly. “I… what?” She tried to laugh off my question, nervously. “Nope,” I slid down the door to sit on the carpet and block the way. It was infantile, but I was at my wit's end. “If I have to sit here all night, I will.” Her eyes widened and glistened in the dim light of the room, only illuminated by her bedside table. Her bottom lip trembled as she sunk to her bed, sniffling and she nervously started twisting a section of her hair. “He’s my mate,” she whispered, confirming what I had desperately wanted to be horribly wrong about. “Finley…?” I quietly stated the name, which physically made her flinch where she sat. “How long? Was it when you shifted?” She nodded. “The next day… I lied when I said I was tired that day… I… I was just so ashamed and embarrassed,” she began to sob into her hands. I immediately shuffled over and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her down to the floor with me and held her tight. When she shifted four months ago, it was in the dead of night that she pounded on my door. I got her outside in the nick of time as her limbs began to twist and rearrange themselves and the dark red fur began to sprout from her skin. I helped Lucy and Lobelia up and get used to walking on four legs, jogging along by their side as far as I could. The following day, she was completely delirious with happiness and had gone out to get us some special snacks and drinks so we could celebrate together, later, after I had finished work. Only, when I got back, her whole vibe had evaporated and she texted me that she had come over exhausted. At the time, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Most wolves, having just shifted, were usually exhausted and out of it for a day or two. The only thing that had surprised me was how chipper she was after she shifted. I wasn’t even surprised when she started to show symptoms of shifting sickness either. Again, it wasn’t something unexpected, we had prepared for it. “Luce, what happened? Did he…” and I felt physically sick just asking. “Did he reject you?” Rejections were rare but were meant to be one of the most painful experiences to befall any werewolf, some would even say as bad as that of a mate’s death. The gaping scar left behind after such a trauma could grow into something truly ugly. “No… I did,” she lifted her head up to meet my stunned eyes. “I rejected him…”
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