After my bath, I slipped into a comfortable nightgown and made my way downstairs to the dining room.
The mirror in the hallway caught my reflection, and I paused. My pale face, wide eyes, and trembling lips betrayed the lingering fear I tried so hard to suppress.
"Pull yourself together," I whispered, brushing stray strands of damp hair from my face. Dinner with my parents awaited, and I couldn't afford to let them see me like this.
Whatever was happening to me; this strange connection to Albert and the passion of my past? I would have to deal with it later. For now, I had to keep up appearances.
Taking a deep breath, I closed the door behind me and walked downstairs to the dining room. The aroma of freshly cooked rice, roasted vegetables, and spices greeted me.
My parents sat at the table and we're quietly conversing. Their faces lighting up when they saw me.
"Evelyn, there you are!" My mother's gentle voice broke the silence, her warm smile masking the concern in her eyes, "How's your day?"
"My day was fine," I said as I took my seat, "Thank you."
"Come, eat," my mother motioned as she dished into a plate for me, "You look famished."
My father nodded in acknowledgement as he poured himself a glass of water. His expression was serious yet tinged with concern.
Mother began dishing food onto my plate, her movements deliberate and gentle. "You look pale, darling. Are you feeling alright?"
I hesitated, the memory of my earlier fright flashing in my mind. "I'm fine," I lied, forcing a bite of rice into my mouth.
Father studied me. "I don't like the way you screamed earlier," he said with a note of concern, "Something must have startled you. What was it about?"
I shook my head quickly, swallowing hard. "It's nothing, Dad," I said, "I thought I saw something, but my eyes were closed. I overreacted."
He frowned, clearly unconvinced. "You know about the Nightshade Pack's return. It's more complicated than the rivalry you've been told about."
Mother placed her hand gently on my arm. "Your father's right, Evelyn. Their return is causing ripples, and we need to prepare for what might come."
I nodded, trying to feign calm. "I've heard bits and pieces, "I said in between mouthfuls, "I know they were our rivals and that their return is causing some tensions in Mooncrest. But why now? Why after all these years?"
Father leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant, as if reliving old wounds. "The Nightshade Pack was exiled because of their taboo practices, primarily shapeshifting," he said, "It's not just a skill; it's a power that disrupts the natural order. Those who can master it are dangerous, capable of taking any form and sowing chaos."
I frowned, struggling to piece together the weight of his words. "But were they truly guilty?" I asked, "Hasn't the pack always denied it?"
He sighed, his voice tinged with a grim acceptance. "There was no conclusive evidence, Evelyn," he said, "None that could stand as undeniable proof. But centuries ago, when rogue packs threatened Mooncrest, we banished them for far less. Suspicion alone was enough. The Shadow Pack, in particular, led the charge to ensure the Nightshade Pack faced exile for at least twenty years. The fear was too great to ignore, and the cost of trust was too high."
The weight of his explanation settled over me like a heavy cloak. "But isn't there any way to ensure peace? Why can't both packs coexist now?"
My father's expression darkened, shadows flickering across his features. "Trust was shattered, Evelyn. Lives were lost, including many of our kind. Shapeshifting isn't just forbidden, it is feared. Those who practice it can tip the balance of power. The truth was that not every werewolf in the Nightshade Pack was into shapeshifting but then, we couldn't identify those really involved so the whole Pack had to suffer for it. Whether or not they were guilty, the Nightshade Pack carried that burden, and that's why they were exiled."
The room seemed colder, the unspoken history looming between us.
"What is the Alpha saying?" I quipped, "We can't have shapeshifters roaming the streets of Mooncrest."
As the remnants of food finished from our plates, we retired to the living room. Mother volunteered to clean up.
"Alpha Moonblade believes the Nightshade Pack is after something," My father said, settling into his favorite armchair, "It's been twenty long years of peace in Mooncrest but they've returned for something that could tip the balance of power between our packs. That is why we need to stay vigilant. Have you noticed anything in the last couple of days?"
"Aside from the incident the other day where I noticed a presence in front of my room, nothing else," I said.
"Evelyn," my father continued, "I want you to understand the gravity of the situation. You're not my only child but you're the closest to my heart. Moonblade is not just being paranoid, there is genuine concern about what the Nightshade Pack might do."
"What do you think they are after, Dad?" I asked again.
My father hesitated briefly, contemplating his words. "Power, definitely," he said, "Or maybe something from our past that they believe gives them an advantage but Moonblade won't say. What I know so far is that something happened that removed the cloak of the exile on the Nightshade Pack and that's why they've returned. So you need to be vigilant. The Nightshade Pack is ruthless, and they won't hesitate to any means necessary to achieve their goals."
A chill ran down my spine. "How do we stop them?" I asked.
"We stay vigilant," Father said firmly. "And you, Evelyn, must be cautious. You're a target, not just because of your position but because of your connection to the Alpha's lineage."
My chest tightened. "A target? Why would they come after me?" I asked.
Mother squeezed my hand. "It's precautionary, dear. But in times like these, every precaution matters."
"Alpha Moonblade has tasked our family with identifying spies and shapeshifters. It's not an easy task, but it's crucial. Do you know how to spot a shapeshifter?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"They often mimic physical appearances perfectly, but their scent is slightly off," he explained. "It's subtle but distinguishable if you're trained."
"And the spies?" I prompted.
"They're more cunning," he admitted. "But they leave breadcrumbs; unusual questions, inconsistent stories, and behavior that doesn't align with our pack's customs."
He sighed deeply, his age showing for the first time. "This isn't just about power, Evelyn. It's about survival. You're stronger than you think, and we'll need that strength in the days ahead."
I nodded, overwhelmed yet determined. "I understand, Dad. I'll do my best."
Mother spoke, her presence a comforting balm. "You've had a long day, darling. Get some rest. Tomorrow will bring its own challenges."
"Yes, I'm sure you must be tired from the day's rest," my father added, "And it's already late."
"Now the servants' absence suddenly makes sense," I said absentmindedly.
"Now you get it, my child," my father beamed with pride, "They are potential targets for infiltration. We can't gainsay it but every of our interactions, every word we exchange, could be scrutinized by those who meant us harm."
I simply nodded and stood to leave, then bid them goodnight and retreated to my room. As I lay in bed, the moonlight streaming through the window, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every creak of the house, every rustle of leaves outside, seemed amplified in the silence.
As I lay in bed, the moonlight filtered through my window, casting ethereal shadows across my room. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, that every creak of the house, every rustle of leaves outside, held a deeper significance.
In that trance-like state, I heard a knock on my door. It opened and someone that looked my mother walked in.
*****
LUCAS'S POV
The night was heavy, the kind of darkness that pressed against your skin. I stood beneath the shadow of an old oak tree, my breath shallow, eyes fixed on Evelyn's window.
The pale glow of her bathroom light spilled faintly through the curtains. She was still inside, her shadow moving behind the frosted glass.
Why had she left me like that? One moment, her lips were on mine, and the world was spinning. The next, she pulled away as if I'd burned her. Had I said something wrong?
The question gnawed at me like a festering wound. I needed answers, and tonight, I was going to get them.
The light in the bathroom went dark, and my pulse quickened. A moment later, her shadow reappeared in the bedroom. I could almost see her pacing, hesitation in her movements. Then came the unmistakable click of her door shutting. She was leaving.
This was my chance.
I stepped out from the tree, the damp grass muffling my footsteps. The shrubs scratched against my jeans as I wove through them, careful not to make a sound. The night swallowed me whole, but her window drew me closer, a beacon I couldn't resist. My fingers brushed the cool brick of the house as I reached her window.
The tension in my chest tightened. Whatever answers lay beyond that glass, I was ready to uncover them.