Melissa shuffled uncomfortably in her chair, the uneasy silence stretching between us like a rift. "Well, Joey is a difficult topic itself," she murmured, her gaze darting away as if trying to find the right word in the room's mundane details.
I leaned forward, my hands clasped tight. "But I can reassure you that he won't do anything of that sort again." Sara's voice carried an edge of conviction, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt that unsettled me.
"Sara, how can you be so sure? You saw what he did to you yesterday, you might still be in danger." The concern in my throat thickened with each word. "I can't imagine what could have happened if I hadn't hit him with the lamp."
Joy, who had been a silent observer until now, mumbled something indistinct. It was the first time she'd spoken during this discussion, and we all turned towards her. Yet the words were lost, swallowed by the tension that hung heavy in the air.
The quiet that followed was suffocating until Coco's voice cut through, sharp and clear. "Shifters and humans are very different. And what you saw was just harmless behavior between mates."
Mates. The term wasn't new to me; it echoed with familiarity from the romance novel I devoured in secret, hidden within the virtual shelves of my reading app. Melissa had often spoken of finding her mate in the past. As much as curiosity itched at the back of my mind, I didn't dare reveal my guilty pleasure. So instead, I absorbed their words silently, the weight of this foreign concept pressing down on my chest.
I watched, the question hanging in the air like a thick fog. "So you say they are mates and that it's normal to hurt your mate like this?" My voice trembled with concern for Sara and the strange customs she was entangled with.
Joy's response was immediate, her voice rippling with a low growl as she sprung up from her seat. "I didn't hurt her," she snapped fiercely, her eyes blazing with indignation.
"Wait—I never said that," I shot back, perplexed by her sudden defensiveness. "Joey did." The image of Sara's frightened face flashed in my mind, clearly not fond of whatever Joey had been doing to her.
Sara's nod came with a heavy sigh, "You're right, I was happy you helped me, and what Joey did... it wasn't right, by no means." There was a strength in her voice now, a determination that hadn't been there before. "But you don't need to worry; we will fix it."
"Will we now?" Joy's challenge sliced through the tension, her stance rigid with an anger that seemed to radiate from her very pores. "After all," she spat out, her gaze sharp and accusing, "who was throwing herself at some random wolves during the pack run and avoiding me the next day?"
The revelation struck a chord and I could see the flush of anger rise on Sara's cheeks. "What is it to you who I throw myself at?" she retorted, her words sharp as knives. Her fury was palpable, an aura that seemed to vibrate around her. I had never seen Sara so livid, so raw with emotion.
In that moment, I realized there were layers to their story, intricacies woven tightly around each other, leaving me to grasp at the unraveling threads of their relationship. The air between them crackled with an intensity that felt too private, too charged for an outsider's eyes. And yet, here I was, caught in the middle of a storm that was far beyond my understanding.
In a swift, fluid motion, Joy skirted the edge of the kitchen island, her movements predatory and deliberate. Her presence loomed over Sara like an ominous shadow as she towered in front of the armchair where Sara sat, her posture defensive yet unyielding. The air seemed to thicken with unsaid words and suppressed emotions—a maelstrom of tension swirling invisibly between them.
Is there something more here? I couldn't help but wonder silently, my mind racing with the possibility of a love triangle entangling Joy, her brother Joey, and Sara. It was as if I could feel the undercurrents of a deeper narrative pulsing beneath the surface, one fraught with complexity and unspoken desires.
A dark growl vibrated from Joy's chest, a primal sound that resonated through the room. "You know exactly what it's to me," she hissed, eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to set the very air ablaze. "And I'm fed up with listening to you talk about me."
Her words were a fuse lit, sparking a response from Melissa who, until that moment, had been a silent observer. "Well, that's what we decided on," Melissa interjected, her voice steady but laced with a reprimanding note, trying to control the tension.
"No, I didn't," Joy snapped back, the raw edge in her tone slicing through any pretense of calm. Her declaration hung heavy, a challenge laid bare for all to witness. "And I'm not going to keep my mouth shut anymore."
"Joy Alexander Valtorin, don't provoke me," Sara's voice cut through the standoff, issuing a stern warning that seemed to reverberate with an authority that demanded attention. Her eyes locked with Joy's, each reflecting a storm of conflicting emotions that threatened to overflow.
The last vestiges of control slipped away, and what happened next was a blur—a sudden escalation that transformed the simmering hostility into a full-blown confrontation.