29: Iris
I made my way stiffly back to my room, the letter burning my hand. My mind raced as I tried to anticipate what my father would have written to me. It would be the first letter in years that he would have sent to me, and it would be the last as well.
“You!” Someone yelled, catching my attention. Itumed to see my mother–in–law, her face puffed up in obvious displeasure.
“Yes?” I halted and turned to Exce her squarely.
“You fucking maggot” She spat. “Are you happy now? You are the Luna to a pack that your kind actively calls for its ruin
She did not seem like she wanted me to reply to her, rather she looked like she wanted to vent her feelings.
“You werewolves despise our kind, yet here you are now stealing that title that should belong to a suitable Lycan woman,” she continued. “You killed your own father for a position that is sol–fitting for you. What would you not do for power?!!
“He committed a crime, a murder. He deserved to be punished.” I countered, even if the words tasted bitter, I knew that it was right. He had taken the responsibility for taking a life, and he had to pay for that,
“He killed a kin of erratures your kind don’t se
see as people. Rather as animals. You shouldn’t care so much.”
“Well, I do,” when I pronounced the words, I felt they settled right in my bones. I meant every word. “I care,” the image of my father’s body was replaced by the mangled corpse of an innocent child in the arms of a grieving mother.
“Don’t lie,” she said. “I know your kind well.” She pounded a fist on her chest. “My grandfather was exiled along with the first herd of Cravens. We toiled for decades and succeeded despite you maggots not leaving us be. You maggots left out in the cold to die, yet when we refused and survived. you hunted us.” The usual latred in her tone was replaced by a deep–seated pain. A pain that must have moulded her into what she had become
now.
slowly it dawned on me and I allowed myself to comprehend the Lycans‘ side of the enmity between our kinds. The disdain was not completely unwarranted and parts of her attitude towards me were justified. So were the actions of others like her.
“I understand your hatred,” I began softly, taking a step closer to her. “I understand the pain that your people have endured, the suffering that has shaped your views of us. But I am not here to perpetuate that cycle of hatred and violence. I am here because it profits both of us.”
Her eyes narrowed, filled with suspicion. “So after you break the curse by giving him an heir, you will willingly abdicate your title as Luna and never show your face again!”
“That was the deal, was it not!”
She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “And will you take your maggot child along with you?”
“Of course,” I affirmed
The disdain in her expression lessened just a fraction. “But for now you will be the wife to my son and that Luna to our pack!
“It seems that way,” I replied. “It’s all for the meantime, I assured.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before her piercing blue eyes settled on me again. “If this will indeed be a temporary arrangement, I believe we can come to a somewhat neutral arrangement of our own.
I raised a brow in question, hope rising slightly. I just wanted peace and if she was offering a cease–fire, it would be one problem solved. “That being?”
“You vow to leave us be to keep your influence to a minimum,” she said, her tone firm and unyielding. “You are here to fulfil a specific role, and nothing more. You do not interfere with the pack’s internal affairs, and you keep your opinions about our ways to yourself I promise to be as tolerant of you as I can manage
I nodded slowly, considering her terms. They were not the fairest, but if it meant keeping the peace, especially putting my brother into consideration, I could endure it. Cassian would not be able to always protect him. I had to make my own compromises too. “Agreed,” I replied. Twill do my best to respect the boundaries you have sel”
“Good. Then we have an understanding. But remember, I will be watching you closely. Any step out of line, and I will not hesitate to remind you of your place.”
I simply nodded, and I watched her turn on her heel and leave. I proceeded back to my room to meet Abel already up and eating. I ruffled his hair a hit to find it still wet with his bath water. His cheeks were slightly flushed and rounded. His colour had retired, and he was gaining much–needed weight already. He was doing far better than had anticipated.
“You Be?” I asked him. It was good that he was eating, but I hoped he enjoyed it. Children should find little joy in things like the food they eat. That was what my mother would have said
He nodded enthusiastically, “1-1–its sooo good,” he replied.
I breathed a sigh of relief, but my worries were not quite over yet. But I let him finish his breakfast first, even eating even though the day had drained me of any appetite.
The letter would come later, even though I was both anxious and curious to read what my father would have written to me on death row.
Abel let out a burp as soon as he was down. “Ex–excuse me–e–e,” he downed the glass of water.
“Abel, there is something I need to tell you,” I mumbled, dreading what I was about to reveal to him. “It is about facher,”
I watched as his shoulder shumped and the light in his eyes dimmed. The expression was new to me to the point that it scared me. Normally, at the mention of my father, he would begin to cower. Fear was always his reaction and not this unsettling dispassion, It was as though he had aged in those few weeks that I was away, bearing a weigl that no child should ever have in carry-
“He…he’s no–note–c–coming for us, i–i–is he–e–e?” Abel’s voice was barely above a whisper.
I knelt down to his level, taking his small hands into mine. “No, Abel,” I said gently, my own voice wavering. “Father did something very bad, and he had to face the consequences for his actions. He won’t be coming back.” I tried to tell him enough without telling too much.
Abel’s eyes filled with tears, and he looked away, trying to hide his face. “W–w–well, t–t–that’s go go good. He–eesh–th–shouldn’t. He he he me–ne never lo–la–love us a a–anyway.”
