Savannah Bowen
Well… I didn’t exactly obey Fenrir’s orders, nor would I ever do so. But Marilyn and he had a history; she seemed to do everything to please him and get his attention. It was kind of controversial
*Miss Marilyn has a difficult temper,” he sighed, shaking his head. “She was Miss Catalina’s best friend.”
I opened my mouth in an ‘o‘ shape and turned fully towards her.
“What?”
was a traitor.
The bitch, besides being a damn bitch, was A
Nicoleta finished adjusting the bed, gathered her cleaning supplies, and turned towards the door
“They were best friends, but after Miss Catalina’s death, Miss Marilyn and Mr. Fenrir grew closer since only the two of them understood the magnitude of
“Has… has it been a long time since Catalina died?” I stammered, feeling down after hearing the wolf’s story.
“Fifty years, approximately.”
“And how did she die!” I asked
Nicoleta smiled faintly.
“Maybe, one day. Mr. Fenrir will tell you the story.” She cleared her throat. “We can’t talk much about it, he gets upset when anyone brings it up.”
“Alright,” I sighed, picking up the box with the dress. “I’ll get ready for the funeral.”
She nodded.
“I’m also going home to prepare.”
I entered the bathroom and let the towel drop. I pulled the dress out and put it on my body. It was a bit large on me, the skirt dragging on the floor because
it was too long. I held the sides and pulled it up. It would be easy to trip if I wasn’t careful. There was also extra fabric around my chest.
It was one–shouldered, tight at the waist, with a long and rounded skirt that cascaded down. Though simple, it was very beautiful and had been made by talented hands, as the seams were well done.
It wasn’t ugly, although it was a size bigger than mine.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I wouldn’t put on makeup because it would be worse if I cried again. I brushed my hair, getting rid of all the knots. with some difficulty.
The wet strands stuck to my neck and shoulders, dripping onto the light fabric. My hair had grown since I arrived in the village. After my fateful wedding. I had cut my hair, which had reached my waist, down to just below my shoulders because it was one of the things Hunter said he liked about me. Now, it reached the middle of my back.
I grabbed the sides of the cold sink and sighed.
The story of Fentir, Catalins, and Marilyn wouldn’t leave my mind. I would hate both of them if that happened to me. My best friend and my fiancé together. Damn, it didn’t matter that she had died and that they found a way to get over the grief, it still wasn’t right.
I went back to the room, grabbed a comfortable pair of sneakers, and put them on. The chances of tripping with the dress would be even greater if I wote
I gave one last glance toward the window and moved out of the room
was nearby.
The house was silent, but the heat in my chest as I descended the stairs was an indication that it wasn’t empty. He was
I stopped on the last step.
Fenris was looking through the large glass window, the muscles of his back stiff under the white shirt he wore. He had his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and was breathing slowly.
1/2
did you do
heads?” I asked, remembering the romantic decoration he had made for me.
It had been days since dinner, and I imagined Nicoleta had gotten a shock when she saw them, just as she must have spent a good amount of time disinfecting the place. She was a bit obsessive about cleaning.
“I had Andrel bury them,” he replied, still facing away from me. “I didn’t want Nicoleta to die of a heart attack.”
“I bet the cleaning was intense,” I retorted, sliding my hand along the handrail.
He laughed, though there was no humor in it.
“She used a portion of cleaning products that would last a month, in a single morning. I think that answers your question.” He turned to face me but stopped halfway. His lips parted, shocked, and his eyebrows shot up. The silver in his eyes expanded, fading the blue. “What the hell is this?” he hissed, his voice barely a whisper.
I looked behind me, then down, and around, trying to understand what was causing his shock, but I didn’t find anything unusual. I focused, absorbing his
Anger. Horror. Sadness. Surprise.
