Bound by the Blood moon

Chapter 15

Leo gently released Charlotte from his clasp and extended a hand to assist Tabitha, who struggled to rise from the floor. "This is Tabby, one of my oldest and dearest acquaintances," he declared, his face brightening with a sincere smile. The woman, still wrapped in a blanket that barely concealed her modesty, greeted Charlotte with an affable warmth that struck her as somewhat disingenuous. Charlotte could not help but perceive the flickers of unqualified scrutiny that Tabitha attempted to suppress, yet they betrayed her with every fleeting glance toward Charlotte.

"You certainly caught me unawares there, Charlotte," Tabitha remarked, lowering the blanket slightly in order to assess the wounded shoulder inflicted by the poker.

"I must beg your pardon," Charlotte felt compelled to respond, "but do forgive me if I recall that you made quite an attempt to bite me, thus rendering us even, I believe."

With a gentle gesture, Leo beckoned Tabitha toward the inner chambers where he provided her with garments intended for Lilias.

"Those cannot be hers!" Charlotte exclaimed, snatching the clothes from Leo's hands, her grip possessively clutching them against her chest. In that moment, she instinctively reached for Lilias's necklace, seeking the solace of familiarity in her discomfort.

Leo drew a breath, approaching the delicate situation with a presence steeped in caution, as Tabitha regarded him in astonishment. "I am acutely aware that these belong to Lilias, my dear Charlotte, yet she is no longer with us," he intoned softly, his hand brushing her cheek, coaxing her to lean closer into his gentle touch. The warmth of tears flowed unchecked down Charlotte's face.

"It is utterly inconceivable that she has departed," she managed to choke out.

"Aye, love," Leo affirmed, drawing her into an embrace.

"Forgive my interruption," Tabitha interjected, "but if it pleases, might I lay claim to those garments? I am assured your friend of the night is—"

"Stop!" Charlotte interjected fiercely, abruptly halting Tabitha's words. "She was not a vampire," she spat, allowing her sorrow to transform into anger, "she was a werewolf." With agitation, she thrust the garments into Tabitha's hands before storming out for air.

The rain had settled to a drizzle, yet she longed for a storm to engulf her. Leo followed closely. "Tabby is—" Charlotte cut him short.

"You labelled her a friend. It is but clothing; I was foolishly irrational," she said monotonously, sending a feeling of unease through Leo's core.

"Charlie..." he began, reaching out to comfort her, but she eluded his grasp.

"I am perfectly well, Leo; death, after all, is a consequential aspect of life," she replied, sounding more like a scholar than her true self. His instinct was to probe further, yet he benevolently granted her the space she so desperately sought.

In quiet solitude, Charlotte wrestled with convulsive thoughts as they drifted across her mind. She allowed them to pass unacted upon, but with one final, deliberate inhalation, she re-entered the hut, only to find Tabitha sat comfortably at Leo's feet before the roaring fire, a vision of ease and warmth. A twinge of jealousy rippled through Charlotte as she beheld the lighthearted glances exchanged between them.

"Oh, those pitiful creatures at the manor—a mere distraction, truly! They squander their time posturing and indulging in gluttony rather than honing their martial prowess!" Tabitha declared vehemently.

"Is that so?" Charlotte interjected, making her presence known. The instant realisation of her entrance caused Leo's countenance to shift; discomfort suddenly painted his features. "Then, pray tell, Tabitha, how was it that I managed to impale your shoulder—this unassuming, inept creature who cannot so much as fight?"