Bound by the Blood moon

Chapter 7

She hastened back to her chambers, her mind a whirl of confusion and alarm. Leaning against the door, she took deep, measured breaths. In that moment, she found herself grateful that her heart no longer beat; the panic in her breath would have rendered it a painful ordeal.

Lilias knocked and entered. "Charlotte, whit happened? Are ye alright? Please, try tae calm doon." She rubbed her back softly and led her to the bed for Charlotte to sit.

That was when Charlotte recalled, "This blood moon," she mentioned, her delicate fingers gripping the curtains as she peered into the murky depths of its red-orange hue, "Pray tell, why does this not take its toll upon thee as it has upon Leo?"

Lilias paused momentarily, her eyes cast downward as if contemplating what to say. "It is merely because I am seventeen and have not yet seen the passage into my eighteenth year," she replied. "I warned you against venturing into that  place. Was he... different?"

"Indeed, he was," Charlotte confessed. "His eyes glowed a fierce red rather than their customary yellow, and his demeanour was most unsavoury. He spoke to me in a fashion most unbecoming—I have never known him to utter such words before. Yet, at the sight of my face, he was overtaken by a furious rage."

Lilias, seemingly unfazed by the revelations, nodded in quiet understanding. "Did he say anythin' else?" she probed, her interest piqued.

"Lilias," Charlotte continued, drumming her fingers on the windowsill, her eyes fixed on something distant, a thoughtful expression on her face, "why would a werewolf—deem to lay claim upon the heart of another? I find myself utterly confused by the very notion." Her cheeks flushed, revealing the depths of her innocence in matters of the heart.

Lilias erupted into laughter, but her merriment ceased abruptly at the sincerity within Charlotte's expression. "When a lycanthrope finds his mate, 'tis somethin' they say tae lay claim tae the other part o' their soul. Is that what he said tae ye?"

With a look of genuine curiosity, Charlotte enquired, "Is it always the case that one's mate must also be a werewolf?"

Lilias took a moment to reflect thoughtfully. "Nae, it's like I told ye before, it's uncommon, but no unheard o'. There hae been times when the Moon Goddess has chosen humans as a wolf's true mate, an' vampires, but that's very rare. Eight times out o' ten, it will aye be anither lycanthrope."

Her eyes drifted back to the horizon, her mind distracted, digesting the words.

"Is that what he said tae ye, Charlotte?" she asked, her hand gently clasping Charlotte's shoulder, a bid to redirect her focus. Yet, recognising she had perhaps been too forward, Lilias withdrew her hand, stepping back with an apologetic manner.

Sensing that Charlotte did not wish to further discuss the matter, and driven by her youthful curiosity about the enigmatic world of vampires, Lilias summoned her courage. "Might I enquire, how long ye might endure without partakin' o' sustenance?" she ventured, among other questions. The two engaged in conversation, bantering like ordinary young ladies, yet the shadows of the dungeon persistently haunted Charlotte's thoughts.

A sudden clamour disrupted their fragile camaraderie, as shouts reverberated through the corridors, rising into screams of terror outside Charlotte's chamber. Lilias instinctively rose, nostrils flaring as she drew in the scents of her kind. "Wolves are upon us," she declared. Without a second thought, she hastened towards the threshold.

"Do not unlock the door!" Charlotte cried. "We must keep it closed!"

But Lilias, urged by an irresistible force beyond her comprehension, pulled the sturdy oak door ajar. It swung wide, revealing a creature of nightmarish visage—a werewolf, its eyes alight with a predatory appetite, dashed past her and positioned itself defiantly before Charlotte.