Vuroth's Tear: Even the Gods Cry

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Donovan entered Velana's shack and looked around. He was unsure how all of them could stay in such a tiny place, but he couldn't deny that he had been in worse places. He found Velana sitting on the floor by the small, freshly lit fireplace. She looked up at him and sighed, returning her eyes to the blaze.

"Where's the pretty girl and your handsome friend?" She snapped.

He sat on the floor next to her, "I think they went to explore the city."

She looked at him again and sighed, "And so I'm stuck with you?"

"What the hell is your problem with me, you don't even know me," He shouted.

"Donovan, right? Alright, Donny boy, why don't I like you?" She turned her body towards him, her leather pants creaked with her movement, "Those herbs you have hidden away in your boot gives off an awful scent. Between that and the smell of self-loathing on you, it's an assault on my senses."

Donovan wasn't sure how he felt about her assessment of him, smelling the poisons that he carried was impressive but self-loathing? What did she mean by that? "I'm not self-loathing!"

She laughed at him, "Oh really? Then why do you drink so much that you basically sweat rum? Why do you search for comfort between so many pairs of legs? I doubt you have ever loved anyone in your life, including yourself."

He remained silent, not because he agreed with her, he was in shock by the assault on his personality by a person, no, a Lycan, who based him solely on his scent.

"You may be beautiful, and skilled with that snout of yours, but you are absolutely terrible at friendly conversation," He huffed and rubbed his palms together before holding them towards the heat of the fire.

"Do I look like someone in need of friendly conversation?" Donovan could see the shimmer of reflected firelight in her eyes.

He cleared his throat, "You look like someone who's used to being alone. That doesn't mean you're not lonely. I'm just offering a little companionship, that's all."

Velana laughed, "I'm not interested in the companionship you're hoping for with me."

"I meant friendship," He snapped, "you saying you don't want a friend?"

She looked down at her hand, scratching at the floor with her nail, "I might believe you if you weren't staring at my chest." She looked up at him and realized her earlier comments had cut deeper than she had meant, though the truth did tend to be the most painful.

"Sorry," He cleared his throat and looked away from her fur vest covered chest, "so, how did you become a Lycan?"

"I was born a Lycan, it's a bloodline. I lived in a pack, or a tribe, whatever you want to call it, but I left." Velana forced her hand to change, her fingers grew longer, the skin darkened and sprouted fur. Donovan cringed at the sound of bones popping and shifting.

He stared at the claws, watched her slowly bend and straightened her fingers, "Does it hurt?"

Her hand returned to its small, feminine human form, "Yes, it's very painful. No matter how many times I change, it's a feeling you never get used to."

Donovan found himself imagining what a werewolf pack could possibly be like, "You said that you had a pack, but you left, why?"

She tensed up, "Haven't you ever heard of a lone wolf?" Her tone was agitated and defensive.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," He meant his apology and after seeing the pain in her face, he changed the subject, "so, how do you know Verik?"