A raven-haired worshiper of the Titans--Hekate and Nyx--is determined to save her lover from an ancient curse, she must prove to him that life is worth living and that being a werewolf has its perks.
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The next afternoon I woke up well-rested and surprised I was able to be up at the time that the sun was at its peak. I kicked off the covers and shed off my night dress letting it sink to the floor and kicked close to my bag. When the events of last night crept into my mind it sent a wave of unease to wash over me—and it's not a great feeling to have while you're half-naked.
I stumbled to the mirror once dressed. I had my raven hair hanging loosely down my back and wore a deep purple chiffon dress with subtle bell sleeves. It was an old frock with a V-neck top, so my cleavage looked particularly good in it. In fact, after spinning in it for a dramatic amount of time in the mirror, I found that my eyebags weren't so deep. They were still present, but they didn't make me look sickly and my I had only one pimple protruding on my forehead. My shoulders from where Lycius' claws had punctured through were healing slowly under their bandages and the rest of the cuts and scratches on my body were in their itching phase. All I wanted to do was scratch them open for relief. I should have healed myself properly while I had the chance to last night.
'I'll take this as a good sign.' I tied a black ribbon around my neck for the final touch and once satisfied I went downstairs to start working. The house had never been this quiet and I hummed to myself to keep the ominous atmosphere from overwhelming me. Maybe they were out with the wolves. Lycius would probably be in his wolf form today.
All thanks to me.
No time to think about that, Lycius would come to me when he was ready. We definitely had to talk about it because I crossed a line before I even saw it, and if he wanted to have boundaries, he needed to specify them. Listen to me trying to rationalize all this as if last night wasn't a devastating overreaction to a simple question. I didn't understand who the Darlings were, only that they were magic users and had something to do with werewolves. What was it that Paul had said about them?
"Most bad wolves go off to the Darlings for help, but not all of them come back."
I clenched the doorknob to the parlour. 'But Lycius came back.' My heart dropped, not only because new ideas were spiralling out of control, like the potential harm that might have come onto Lycius or to the Darlings, and like Paul knowing about Lycius' condition and being very afraid for me being near him...
The door to the parlour was locked.
'Ah, Miss Drakos, you're awake,' Calix called out from the ballroom. White light shone from the skylight, and it kicked a wince out of me. Like I had gradually shrunk back into my nightly self and wanted to expel the sun from existence. The way the light bounced off Calix's blonde locks incited some violence from me, that, and the cartoon white gloves. 'Come, come,' he said, 'I'll make us some lunch.'
I narrowed my eyes as he all but skipped towards the kitchen. With no other choice, I walked in too and watched him pretend to fuss about the kitchen with a dreadful pleasure painted on his face.
