Digging too deep might unearth things best left buried.
His Secret
In my room, a small group of people were waiting for me. Des was comfortably ensconced on my bed, not caring that he happened to be wearing steel-toed boots. Mica was sitting on the balcony railing, Coffee chattering away beside him as they watched the ever-swelling, full moon. Alice sat on one chair and Alex on the other. Rolo sat in the corner, reading a book. Mose was studying the bookshelf, and Ábel was already reading a volume against the wall. Ábel immediately moved in front of me.
"You were amazing!" he said, his eyes sparkling. "You openly defied a king!"
I smiled and ruffled his hair.
"That's right, I wouldn't have dared," Mose agreed.
"The instincts of monsters are much stronger than those of humans," I explained to Mose. "If you show even a moment's weakness, they will strike without mercy, but if you attack first, they will falter and retreat. This is even more true of monsters with a lot of power—they're just not used to it, so they can't handle the situation."
Ábel nodded vigorously.
"Well, to what do I owe your presence at this late hour?"
"Gift giving," said Des, sitting up in bed.
"Oh, already?" I was surprised, or at least pretended to be.
"We'll be busy tomorrow," said Alice. "We thought it best to give gifts before the huge crowd of guests arrived."
I nodded.
"Well, folks, who's first?" grinned Des.
Rolo then jumped up and picked up the package lying next to him. He stood in front of me and stared for a moment as if wondering if I deserved the gift. Then he must have come to a decision because he held the package out to me.
"I hope it pleases you, Your Majesty."
His mocking words contrasted with his barely perceptible embarassment and the ill-concealed excitement in his voice.
"Thank you," I said, and taking the parcel, began to open it.
I was surprised to find a familiar sketchbook inside.
"Wow," I groaned as I opened it.
He had drawn lots of new pictures of me, Alex, and almost everyone in our famiglia. Still, my favorites were the short little comics that depicted parodied moments of our daily lives.
I grinned. "You really outdid yourself, kiddo!"
"I'm not a kid!" he said, but there was a satisfied smile on the edge of his lips.
"My turn now," smiled Mose.
Excitedly, he stepped closer, and then I felt my skin tingle with the magic that emanated from him—I knew instantly that he was going to do magic. He pulled a battered coin from his pocket and took a deep breath.
"Hide him from prying eyes, protect him from magic, your identity will be obscured until you wish it so!"
"What is this?" I asked.
"Some mages wanted to track you down, so I made this amulet," he showed me the coin, "It was just a temporary solution, and I thought it was time to finalize the spell. As long as you have it, no mage will be able to find you with a searching charm."
"A useful little charm, thank you," I said, sending a smile to Moses and accepting the gift.
After that, Coffee handed me a black jar. I raised an eyebrow as I took it.
"It was a ritual prop based on an ancient recipe used by vampires, essential to our birth rites. Luna and I had a little chat, and she said you might find it useful for the ceremony," she explained.
"Thank you," I said, and she nodded in acknowledgment.
Mica presented me with a ceremonial dagger, a medium-length blade, which I thanked him for.
Alice and Des looked at each other, and then the hunter handed me a small box. He had a half-smile lingering in the corners of his mouth. I nodded with a similar smile.
Alex stepped forward, a little shyly.
"Since everyone has given you such an amazing gift, I'm a little embarrassed," he said, his ears almost flaming in support of his words.
He took my hand and put his fist in my palm. When he opened his fingers, I felt something small and cold touch my skin. When he removed his hand, I saw the tiny marble. Its color played in different shades of gold and orange—it reminded me a little of Alex's irises.
I had only seen it once before, but its beauty surpassed even my memories. It was so charming and mesmerizing that anyone who laid eyes on it wanted it for themselves—I felt the same way I did when I first saw it in the wolf's grip. I remembered him playing with it absentmindedly, not really noticing my presence.
"What's that?" I asked, and he jumped in fright.
Like someone caught in the act.
"N-nothing!" he said immediately, hiding his hands behind his back.
"It must be something, for you're hiding it from me."
Seeing that he had lost the battle, he reluctantly showed his most treasured possession. At the time, Alex was working hard to get me to teach him—without success. I told him that if he gave me the marble, I would reconsider. Needless to say, I was surprised when he declined my offer. It was then that I began to understand that we were not talking about a simple marble.
"It's the only thing I have left after my father," he said. "Besides, it's not just mine, it's the symbol of the whole pack, so there's no way I can give it to you."
And I let it go because I understood how important it was to the wolf. I knew if Alex said that, I wouldn't be able to get it from him. Or at least not with enough effort to make it worth it.
I stared in disbelief at the small marble in my hand, the same marble that Alex wouldn't have let out of his hands for any amount of money in the past.
Rolo almost squealed next to me. "It' a heart!"
"A heart?" Mose asked, examining the marble in my hand with interest.
"An amulet similar to, but even more valuable than, the shard of life. The heart has been passed down through the oldest packs since ancient times," Rolo explained. "It brings prosperity and good fortune to all the members of the pack. It is very rare, which is why the strongest of the pack members takes care of it—hence the name of the packheart."
"But now it's just an ordinary marble," said Alex. "Since the pack has been destroyed, the heart has lost its power."
"Now that you mention it, I don't feel any magic from it," Rolo noted.
Alex shrugged. "It's just any old relic of the past."
"Are you sure?" I questioned my best friend.
I knew for him it wasn't just a piece of junk, it was his only legacy from his father and the last reminder of his old pack.
Alex smiled. "You're our 'packheart,' Shay. You'll take better care of it than anyone."
I nodded and pulled the idiot to me with one arm.
"I'll take better care of it than I would my life," I assured him.
Ábel was the last to approach me, he grinned serenely and held out a lollipop.
"I can offer you nothing more than what you have had for a long time: my loyalty and my life."
I took the lollipop and ruffled his hair again feeling a surge of warmth from the genuine affection and loyalty surrounding me. These moments reminded me of what I was fighting for—not just power or survival, but for these bonds, this famiglia we had formed against all odds.
"Thank you, all of you," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "Your gifts mean more to me than you can imagine."
There was a murmur of agreement and shared smiles around the room. For a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift, replaced by a comforting sense of unity and belonging.
Des clapped his hands together, breaking the tender silence. "Alright, everyone, let's leave Shay to rest. Tomorrow's going to be a long day, and we all need to be at our best."
One by one, they started to file out of the room, each giving me a nod or a smile as they left.
(...)
In the morning, I woke up to the first rays of the sun—it was almost four o'clock. I got out of bed, got dressed, and decided that if I could, I would drink cocoa to make the early start of the day more bearable. I headed for the kitchen, plotting in my head how I was going to wrap my fingers around Crimson's servants. If I was lucky, I might even get them to make lasagne for lunch with my best smile. These were my thoughts as I wandered through the still dimly lit corridors.
As I passed by Crimson's private quarters, I heard a conversation that caught my attention. The exchange was muffled, but I could discern the tension in the air. Crimson was speaking to a young vampire, his voice tinged with an unusual edge.
"I'm going to bed. Under no circumstances are you to let him near my room," he said firmly. "That's an order."
My eyes widened as I peered out at the edge of the corridor. In the circle of uniformed vampires stood Crimson. The same haughty, superior aura, the same eerie eyes but to be honest he looked like shit. I grinned. I never thought I'd uncover one of the vampire's weaknesses so soon.
I watched as one vampire handed over a small, intricately crafted artifact to Crimson. It was a curious object—an ornate dreamcatcher-like charm, shimmering with faint, eerie light. Crimson's expression was one of intense focus, his hand trembling slightly as he touched the artifact. It seemed significant, but what caught my attention was the way Crimson's eyes were glazed over, his movements erratic and distracted.
"Who shouldn't be allowed near your room, Red?" I said, stepping into the corridor with deliberate casualness.
He spun around so suddenly that he almost dropped the artifact. He glanced at me with surprise, then his face fell into an expression of despair. Crimson's eyes flickered with a mix of dread and resolve.
"Kill him!" he ordered, his voice sharp and commanding.
The vampires around him immediately moved to attack, but I raised my hand.
"Stop!" I bellowed, "Don't move."
The vampires froze, their eyes veiled in a trance-like state. Crimson was a little surprised.
"I had no idea you could use it already."
He released his presence, which spread in suffocating waves through the room. It was as if a thick, oppressive fog had enveloped us.
"On your knees!" he barked at me.
Although I did not move, the vampires around me immediately obeyed the order. Crimson looked at me in disbelief, and I pulled my lips into a sneer.
"No one can bring me to my knees," I declared, glancing at him absently.
"Get him," he snarled and the vampires began to move once more.
"Stay still," I commanded, and his servants froze in place.
We stared at each other for a moment, both of us unleashing our presence, neither backing away. Crimson's eyes were distant, his expression increasingly frantic.
"Despicable scum," he filtered through his teeth.
"Scummy bloodsucker," I said, satisfied, noting the flicker of something like fear or vulnerability in Crimson's eyes.
Then Crimson, clearly agitated and disoriented, made his way to his room, clutching the dreamcatcher-like artifact tightly. I watched as he disappeared behind the door, leaving his servants baffled and hesitant.
As I continued on my way to the kitchen, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had glimpsed something crucial. The artifact, the glazed look in Crimson's eyes, and his erratic behavior—everything pointed to the possibility that Crimson had a secret I got a glimpse of. I resolved to keep a close eye on him and the artifact, piecing together the implications of what I had uncovered.
In the kitchen, I felt a peculiar sense of calm as I stared at the bubbling coffee machine. My mind was still racing, but I decided a bit of normalcy might help me think clearly. I walked over to one of the servants, a young woman with an expression of constant efficiency.
"Excuse me," I said, putting on my most charming smile. "Could you please make me a cup of cocoa?"
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Cocoa, Your Majesty? At this hour?"
"Yes, indeed. I find it soothing," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Please, if you don't mind."
The servant hesitated, clearly baffled by the request, but nodded and began preparing the cocoa. As she worked, I watched her with a faint smile, contemplating my next move. The cocoa was a small but comforting distraction, a chance to gather my thoughts before diving deeper into the mystery of Crimson's condition.
Once the cocoa was ready, the servant handed me the steaming cup with a slightly bemused expression.
"Thank you," I said, taking the cup and savoring the rich aroma. I took a sip, letting the warmth spread through me.
"Your Majesty," she said, bowing her head slightly. "Is there something else you require?"
"Yes, there is," I nodded. "No need to call me 'Your Majesty',"
The maid's confusion was evident. Her eyes widened, and she seemed at a loss. "Oh, um, but… how should I address you then? I mean, if not 'Your Majesty'?"
"Just 'Shay' will do," I said gently, trying to ease her discomfort.
The maid looked even more bewildered, wringing her hands nervously. "But, um, I can't obey, Your Majesty, I cannot call your name directly. I mean, we're supposed to—"
"It's perfectly fine," I reassured her. "Consider it a form of, well, rebellion against formality. We're in a kitchen, not a royal court."
She blinked rapidly, trying to process this shift. "But what if I—"
I interrupted with a warm smile. "You can call me Shay. It's really no trouble. It's just more comfortable for me this way."
The maid's face was a portrait of mixed emotions—surprise, uncertainty, and a hint of relief. "I see. But, um, if I accidentally call you 'Your Majesty' again—"
"I won't hold it against you," I said with a laugh. "Just remind me to call you 'Your Excellence' for fun."
The maid managed a small, nervous laugh. "Alright. If that's what you prefer."
I grinned and took a sip of my cocoa. "Perfect. Now, about my next request—"
The maid's confusion seemed to shift to mild amusement. "Yes?"
"Just checking if you have any more of those delightful cocoa beans stashed away," I said, glancing around the kitchen. "I might be in the mood for a second round."
The maid nodded, a hesitant smile on her face. "I'll see what I can do."
As she moved off to find more cocoa beans, I chuckled to myself.