Serena smiled, and they walked down the streets. She sank her teeth into the apple. They were deceptive- though they looked average, their taste was one of the best she’d ever had.
By the time they rounded the next corner, she was already on her second, and Darius trailed dutifully behind her, the remaining three tucked carefully in the crook of his arm. He didn’t complain, not even when she offered him a bite and then took it back with a grin before he could accept.
"Darius," she said, her voice light but thoughtful.
"Yes, Serena?" he answered.
She slowed a little, chewing the last bite. "You said the crowd would return?"
Darius nodded, walking ahead. A mistake on his part, Beatrice worked quicker than he expected. He cursed himself for underestimating that idle woman. He would have to do something quickly, a fake ceremony, an invented diplomatic summit, something- he’d have to think fast.
It still circled back to her leaving Oakspire. The mess kept growing bigger and bigger, but for the sparkle in her eyes, he would do it.
"That would be horrible, wouldn’t it?" she murmured, half-lost in her own thoughts.
Darius shrugged. It could be dealt with- difficult, but manageable. "Don’t fret. Just follow me."
He sped up, scanning the area for anyone following them. It was clear, and he diverted into an alleyway. Serena lifted her gaze to an old wooden door painted a dull gray to mimic the stone walls around it.
Darius shifted the three apples to one arm, cradling them before he gave three hard knocks on the door. A crash was heard on the other side, and the spyhole slid open. A milky eye peeped through. It looked Darius up and down, then moved to Serena. She automatically gave an awkward smile.
"Hmph," the man grunted and slammed the spyhole shut.
Darius let out a long breath through his nose, jaw tightening. He tilted his head skyward for patience, then stepped forward again and knocked harder.
The spyhole opened once more, but no eye greeted them.
"What?" came the dry bark of a voice.
"It’s Darius," he began, but the man’s voice interrupted.
"I know that," he snapped.
Darius rolled his eyes, his lips twitching with annoyance. Serena smothered a laugh behind her hand.
"I need two cloaks," Darius said.
The spyhole slammed shut again.
Serena moved closer to Darius and whispered, "He doesn’t know you’re the Alpha?" Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel⚑fire.net
A foolish question, Serena quickly realized. It was getting more and more obvious how little she knew of packs with more than a hundred wolves.
Darius cast a sidelong glance at her and shook his head. "He does. He is not just particularly fond of me."
Serena stared at the bolted door and stepped forward. Copying Darius, she knocked three times.
"Hello," she said, raising her voice so the man on the other side could hear her.
The spyhole slid open and the man peered down at her. She smiled again. "I was wondering if you could assist me and my... friend. Please, it is urgent."
Then, the spyhole slid open again. The eye reappeared, blinking down at her. Serena lifted her chin slightly and smiled again, hoping earnestness counted for something.
Darius seemed irritated with the man, but he had come here after all. Without some sort of disguise, the trip would be ruined.
The man looked her up and down, then looked at Darius, who had raised a brow at him. The hole closed once more, and Serena’s shoulders fell.
The apple core fell from her hand, and she kicked it to the side. She turned to face Darius, a small frown on her face.
"I tried. I did think he would open up," Serena murmured, her voice tinged with disappointment. She crossed her arms.
But before Darius could offer any reply, the clatter of a chain being unlatched echoed through the alleyway. Metal scraped against wood, followed by the rattle of a rusted knob. The door creaked open on reluctant hinges.
A tall, slender figure appeared in the frame, almost eye level with Darius, but far less imposing. The man’s shirt hung loosely on his slender frame, peppered with holes as though moths had feasted on it. His jet-black hair stood at angles, unbrushed and unruly. As he stepped forward, a dry cough erupted from his chest, violent and wet, rattling his bones with each convulsion.
Darius stood still, mildly surprised that the man had opened the door. He placed a hand on the blonde woman’s shoulder, drawing her closer to his side.
"Herbie," Darius said, voice flat.
"Darius," the man replied.
It was a shame the man had become a shadow of what he once was, all because he was fiercely loyal to Darius’ father. He had shut himself in this hideout in Longdale and hardly came out. Darius was sure one of these days the odd man would kick the bucket.
"And who do we have here?" Herbie asked, his eyes landing on Serena.
"Hm," he hummed, grin spreading unevenly across his face. "You smell like a breath of fresh air." His teeth were yellow, crooked things, barely held together.
"Cloaks. Our sizes," Darius said simply.
The old man turned on his heel and disappeared into the dark room. Darius nodded to Serena to follow after him. She hesitated before stepping into the space.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was a massive room, with fabrics littering the area, needles and threads scattered around. There lay a desk with rough sketches and bowls upon bowls of dried food. She grimaced and tried her best to avoid stepping on unfinished garments. Her nose wrinkled, but she didn’t comment.
Herbie soon appeared, holding two cloaks, one smaller than the other. Darius nodded stiffly and took them from his hands. He handed the three apples to Serena and slipped on the bigger cloak.
Darius took the apples back and gave Serena her cloak. He made eye contact with Herbie. The tension was suffocating, each person waiting for the other to speak.
"How have you been, Herbert?" Darius asked.
The older man flinched like Darius had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water on him. He pressed his lips into a thin line and narrowed his eyes.
"Do not call me that," Herbie said.
Serena bit her cheek and took a step back to avoid any sort of crossfire.