CHAPTER 272: JOLLY SEASON III

Raul, Diana, and I moved down the main street–alive with chatter and activities– of the Lycan King’s pack territory, the afternoon sun spilling liquid gold over rooftops and cobbled paths.

Between them, I felt almost shielded — but not from the stares. The stares had a way of curling around you here, like smoke you couldn’t wave away.

It wasn’t the first time I’d walked among wolves who didn’t know what to make of me, but it was the first time I suspected they’d already been told the full story. The King had likely gathered his council after the Queen’s event and shared his version — perhaps even word-for-word — of what I had done in her court.

The glances from the people leaning in shop doorways told me as much: wary, measuring, and curious, all at once

Then I saw them.

It had been a flicker at first—an unmistakable glimpse of Claire and Levina. The two of them stood in the shadow of a stall where Naomi hovered, her lips moving quickly as if she were trying to convince them of something.

Claire’s face was blank, like it had been when they came to recruit me into their stupid stroll, but the very blankness of it betrayed her resolve.

Levina’s then had been worse: open in its indifference, carrying the kind of air that amused and amazed me, instead of stinging.

I slowed a fraction, long enough to take them in.

Naomi’s brows furrowed as she gestured, frustration clinging to her every movement. But Claire’s chin remained high, her eyes narrowed in that way she always had when she thought she was the cleverest in the room. Beside her, Levina stood like a shadow choosing its master, her expression unreadable yet heavy with something I recognized too well: rejection.

What was she rejecting? What were they talking about? Me?

Levina—the twat who had once sworn she was repentant. The same girl who had once held my hand during the contest, who had made me laugh until my sides ached, who had sworn she was my friend. And yet... here she was, her loyalty discarded as easily as a trinket.

How?

Had she always been this shallow? This shameless? Had envy been festering beneath her smiles all along?

I watched as she leaned toward one of the males who greeted them then, brushing her arm against his with a familiarity that made me flinch. Her laughter rang out like the clinking of glass, false and shrill.

I blinked, unable to reconcile the image with the girl I once called friend.

Was this who she had always been? Or had she simply chosen a different mask?

If Sinclaire—her obsession—had joined the trip, she would have been glued to his side. But he hadn’t. That explained the brazen attention to strangers. Levina, untethered, shameless.

"Watch her become a slut." Diana murmured.

Of course she had noticed.

The clique noticed us then. For a breath, they froze. Claire’s eyes flicked toward me, quick as a blade. Levina followed suit, her smirk tightening, though not a word was spoken.

Then, as though on silent command, they turned away, continuing their chatter as if I did not exist.

Naomi, caught between them, hesitated. Her brows drew together, her lips parting in some silent apology—or plea. She lifted a hand, a small wave, hesitant and half-hearted.

I almost smiled back. Almost.

"Naomi is getting distant," Diana pointed out, her grip tightening slightly on my hand. Her gaze followed the three girls as they disappeared into the crowd. "Do you think Claire’s finally convinced her that you’re poison?"

I cast a glance at Raul, who now walked a step behind us, listening. His eyes met mine, steady, reading me far too easily.

I exhaled slowly. "Probably." It seems she’s forgiven... but not forgotten. "She probably thinks I’m a bad influence."

I clenched my jaw and turned my eyes away, forcing myself to focus on the present, on the street alive with life.

Stalls lined either side, piled high with fruits, fabrics, carved trinkets, steaming meat skewers. The smell of roasted corn mixed with the tang of herbs, weaving a tapestry of scent that reminded me of markets long gone. Children darted between the adults, their laughter bubbling above the chatter of merchants calling out their wares.

I tried to absorb it, to root myself in something other than the ache of the loss of a friend.

A sudden bounce rolled to my feet, interrupting my thoughts. I blinked down at the object. A ball, leather-stitched and well-worn, sat before me.

When I lifted my gaze, seven children—no older than ten—stared at me with wide eyes. They had frozen mid-stride, uncertain whether to come closer. Their gazes darted from my face to my hands, then back to the ball as though weighing the risk of approaching the famous stranger who had suddenly disrupted their game.

I smiled faintly and bent, scooping the ball up.

Their bodies leaned forward imperceptibly. I could almost read their minds: Would she give it back? Or keep it? Was she safe?

"Is this yours?" I asked softly.

They nodded in unison, but still they didn’t move.

A sudden urge gripped me. My fingers tightened around the ball. Power hummed faintly at my fingertips, subtle but eager, wanting to please these boys, to make them like me.

Without overthinking, I lifted the ball in the air and let a trickle of magic seep into it. The leather shivered, then rose higher, hovering inches above my palm. The children gasped.

I grinned and flicked my wrist. The ball shot upward, then burst into a shower of tiny, glittering sparks that shimmered in the air before fading. Except—the sparks didn’t fall. They folded, condensed, shaping themselves into wings of light. The ball fluttered, beating its glowing wings, before swooping playfully over the children’s heads.

Their squeals of delight filled the street. "Again! Again!"

The ball zipped downward, darting between their hands as though teasing them. Every time they reached for it, it danced away, chirping with a sound that wasn’t entirely earthly.

Raul chuckled softly beside me. "You’re going to cause a riot."

"Let her," Diana said, laughing outright as one child stumbled after the winged ball. "It’s probably been too long since they saw something this beautiful."

I bent my fingers, guiding the ball to hover right in front of the smallest child, who stood frozen with awe. It lowered itself into his hands, wings fading as though it had exhausted its magic. His face lit up like the sunrise.

The others clamored instantly. "Me next! Me next!"

I obliged. A flick, a spark, and the ball soared again, darting between them with tricks of light. The crowd began to notice. Adults paused in their steps, merchants leaned over their stalls, and slowly, a circle began to form.

I lost myself in their laughter. For a brief time, I wasn’t the girl with enemies in every corner, wasn’t the one carrying whispers of rebellion. I was simply me, weaving joy for a pack of children who believed in magic.

But I wasn’t the only one watching. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Levina again. She stood apart from the crowd, her lips pressed tight, her eyes glittering with envy.

The attention I had unwittingly drawn to myself was hers by right—or so she believed. Her hunger for it gnawed at her, and I saw it clearly in the stiff tilt of her chin.

I pretended not to notice; the satisfaction was a good comfort.

At last, the pull inside me weakened. The ball slowed, hovering tiredly before I let it fall into a child’s eager hands. Applause broke out, small and scattered, but it warmed me nonetheless.

I smiled, bowing slightly to the children. "That’s all for today."

Their chorus of disappointment almost undid me, but I forced myself to step back. Already, I felt a faint emptiness where the magic had flowed, a whisper of loss. I would need to eat again, very soon.

–

The streets opened into wider paths. We passed the restaurant where I had once humiliated Adam, its windows gleaming as though amusing me with memories.

And then we entered the general pack’s garden, which stretched beyond, lush and carefully tended. Blossoms spilled in bursts of red and violet, their perfume filling the air. Fountains trickled, their waters sparkling in the afternoon sun. Families strolled hand in hand, their laughter gentle as the wind swayed the leaves.

For a time, I let the beauty of it soothe me.

It was Diana who broke the silence. "Do you remember what Adam said about the cave?" she asked softly, her voice tainted with curiosity.

My steps slowed.

The cave.

Of course I remembered.

But how could I admit that I had already been there? That the secrets within it had already brushed against my fingertips?

Raul’s presence at my side made honesty impossible.

So I feigned ignorance. "A cave?" I tilted my head, pretending curiosity. "Where?"