The brawny man next to Ruben shrugged when he indicted fault with a jab of his thumb to the side. Lyra's side eye was fierce before she returned her attention to Ruben's face, making sure he didn't need medical treatment. She wasn't a professional, but between some college courses and extensive familiarity with blunt traumas, she had a practical knowledge for assessment.
"Woah. This little one is bold! Never has an Omega glared at me like that." The man pulled his shoulders back, revealing his height which matched Ruben. The smile on his face softened his words to being playful rather than offensive. "This must be the famous Lyra."
Lyra accidentally slipped a low growl while suspiciously glancing back at the burly man. She wanted to be at the bottom of the totem pole for invisibility, not gain infamy. Luckily he continued, easing her worry.
"Ruben never shuts up about you. He insists that he learned some of his fighting style from you. I thought he was just blowing hot air. Now I'm getting to see you up close- wow those eyes. Really, I can't look away!"
He gasped in exaggerated awe and leaned down to get a closer look at her face, hidden by her hair. Ruben was standing with his arms crossed and a proud, crooked smirk plastered on his battered face. So he had been bragging about her. She felt embarrassed to find out he had been weaving some kind of personification of her to the warriors. Suddenly she felt self conscious. Ruben's view of her was too high. He was attached to her because of the years they relied on each other, so his opinion was warped, he wasn't able to see her objectively. She could never live up to the person that Ruben thought she was. This man was about to be disenchanted. She wanted to blame Ruben for his loose lips, but he didn't have any malicious intentions. Lyra decided she'd had enough and turned her back to them, annoyed.
"Hey gorgeous, wait up! I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm Eugene."
He matched her pace and filled his plate alongside her, Ruben following silently behind. Lyra halted as she looked at the dining hall tables, quickly filling with people. Normally she would eat in the kitchen, the garden or her bedroom. And when she did eat with Ruben, he would usually choose the spot. This time she was in front, and she had no confidence to select a seat.
"There! I see three together!" Eugene pointed.
There were warriors and packhouse managers already gathering at that table. From her observations, Eugene was one of the higher ranking warriors, so he would be accepted at any table. But she did not share his or Ruben's popularity. Would it be okay? She didn't want Ruben to witness her getting talked down to. Then again, would they do it in front of these two? She didn't have a choice anyway, the two overbearing men ushered her to the bench. To her relief, no one seemed to notice her joining the table at all.
Ruben sat between the other two and Eugene seemed disappointed, giving a brief grunt at Ruben. After a few bites, he bumped his shoulder into Ruben's and spoke up, laughing, "You should have been able to block that blow, anyway! I would'a held back if I knew you couldn't shield properly."
"Oi! I saw it coming! I took the hit on purpose. But I got a good blow in. See?" Ruben said defensively.
He leaned back and lifted the man's shirt for Lyra to see. Eugene's stacked torso, his chest and abs covered in a triangle of dark hair, was revealed along with the purple bruise spread across his lower right rib cage.
Eugene growled and shoved his shirt back down. He shoveled food in his mouth and grunted, "Damn rookie. You got lucky."
"Not luck!" Ruben smiled, his swollen half contorting comically and he raised a finger, "Strategic."
Lyra shook her head, relenting to the typical male banter. At least Ruben wasn't being picked on, it would heal completely in a few days anyways. She was also pleased to hear the more experienced warrior say that he would have held back. It was a jab at Ruben's ability, but to Lyra, it meant he evaluated his partner and fought within their limits. Hats off to that level of calculation during a fight and control over his strength. Her friend had a good training buddy. At least, she had a positive first impression of the guy.
The food was delicious, as usual. She was feeling comfortable sitting next to Ruben, as if she was under his protection. That is, until she timidly scanned the room and caught the glaring gazes of half a dozen maids. Right. As far as they were concerned, she had no place next to such a charming warrior, much less this table filled with the top of the packhouse. And this is why she preferred to eat alone. This dining hall wasn't unlike a high school cafeteria sometimes. Hopefully she wouldn't have to pay too much for this "insolence" later.
"So, gorgeous," Eugene set his elbows on the table and leaned his head into his hands, twisting to look at Lyra, "how are you liking your new pack?"
'My new pack? As if I belong here at all.' Lyra thought, 'I suppose most people would consider it their new pack after living here for a few months. Well, technically, it is the last pack I was a part of. But it's not my pack. Why am I even here, again?'
Lyra gave a faint smile without looking his way and hummed, nodding her head minimally. Then she continued eating quietly. She had no quam with lying, but Ruben would see right through her. Eugene didn't seem deterred by her ambiguous demeanor, rather it seemed to peak his interest instead.
"A woman of few words I see." He grinned, "But you got guts for sure. You may be quiet but I saw that fire in those pretty eyes of yours. I like 'em with a little spunk."
Lyra met his eyes. Was this guy… hitting on her? She hadn't experienced something like this in well over five years and assuredly not while she was looking this drab. No way. It was more likely that he was being amiable to Ruben's friend and she was so starved for kindness that she was misconstruing his intentions.