THE CONFLICT #2

CHAPTER 12

NOVENA

This is certainly not what I expected the palace of the wolves to look like. Especially a bedroom. It's much like our own… plastered walls, large black-steeled windows, grey stained hardwood floors, high ceiling and hanging chandeliers. The details differ but there is no doubt that they share our taste in modern architecture. I wonder if the rest of the palace is much of the same...

“Hello.”

I jump at the interruption from my bored musing after being restricted to this bedroom for half an hour with no word of Emmalines health. Standing at the end of my bed is the boy from my dreams. I stare at him, the absolute splitting image. I wipe at my hair stuck to my face from the tears that have just about dried.

Tucking the pieces of hair behind my ears, I eye him curiously, “Hi.” I reply plainly.

His eyes roam across my face with such open adoration that I fumble for my words to fill the awkwardness. Perhaps I am confusing the emotion I see there with another, like curiosity... What other explanation could there possibly be?

“What is your name?” I ask hesitantly.

“Huntley. But you can call me Hunt. Most people do.”

He keeps coming closer. I shrink away, scared of being close to him. More confused than I’ve ever been in my life. I could have sworn he didn’t know me in the Throne Room but now, I’m not so sure.

He frowns, “Why are you scared of me, Novena?”

“You shouldn’t be real.” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

He hears and suddenly he laughs under his breath, then nervously looks to the double doors.

“Look, I can’t stay long. I’m not supposed to be here. But I needed to see you, to know that you were okay.”

“Do I look okay?” I ask, thinking of how my eyes must be red and my cheeks must be puffy and stained by tears. Overall, I probably look like crap.

“No.” He sighs, “I’m sorry about what’s happened to you and to your friend.”

I nod at his kind words. An awkward silence descends upon us as he tries to not make it obvious that he is watching every move I make. I keep my eyes averted, spying him from under my eyelashes with quick nervous looks. The boy in my dreams seemed so much different to the boy standing before me. He seems so much taller in real life. He is slimmer than the first time I’d seen him and with his hair cut short like the last. Still, he is just as beautiful. He looks to be a few years younger than me. Maybe eighteen or nineteen but considering that he is a Werewolf, he probably has hundreds of years on me.

His words are almost too soft to hear, but I do hear them and the desperate plea that accompanies them, “Will you let me touch you?”

“What?” I exclaim, drawing away.

He hurries to explain, “I just want to feel your skin, your real skin. That’s all.”

I gape at him, “So you know about us then?”

“Of course.” He looks astonished that I would even ask.

He runs a hand over his short hair, looking for all the world to be lost.

“It makes sense in a strange sort of way, why you would never stay past a few minutes. You said you were seeing me in your dreams while I was seeing you when I was awake. I don’t understand it and I don't know why it was happening to us.”

So if he doesn't know and wasn't doing it then what is going on here?

His voice is almost sad, “You didn’t come back to me. I’ve missed you.”

"I didn't really get a choice." I tell him in explanation for my absence.

His silver eyes bare more of the sadness in his mind, “I just want to feel close to you. Even if it’s just one more time.”

Huntley stretches his fingers out to me and after hesitating for a moment, I cautiously lift my hand to meet his much larger one. His fingers are so warm as he laces them through mine. He smiles sweetly at the contact and I feel the blush creeping across my cheeks.

“Who are you?” I ask searching his face and realizing that I've never come across his name.

A sad look crosses Huntley's youthful face, “I am a nobody.”

He smiles shyly, making him look even younger, still beautiful but very different to Zelus. Where Huntley is as pretty as a picture in such a beguiling sort of way, Zelus is stunningly ravishing. The two are in sharp contrast and yet neither lack in attractiveness.

“And you are a Princess, the mate to our crowned prince.”

I hiss out my outrage, “I will never be his mate or anything of the sort!” I shout snatching my hand away from him.

I watch how his features show his surprise at my anger.

“I’m sorry, Novena. Please forgive me.” He pleads, his hand closing the space between us and traveling across my cheek and into my dark shoulder-length hair.

He puts his face against mine, surprising me with his forwardness, “You don’t understand how happy your words make me. It broke my heart to see him touch you, you know. While I had to pretend I didn’t even know you.”

His lips are against my ear, but it isn’t in a s****l way. He speaks to me as if he is desperate to.

“While I had to watch you struggle with your mind over seeing me because you’ve only ever seen me in your dreams.” He draws back to look at me. His gaze captures mine, soft as a doe, “I can’t believe that I am really touching you. The real you.”

I grab his wrist as he draws my face to meet his and I feel none of my earlier hesitation with him.

“There was always a bit of a shimmer to you. But now… now I can see the difference. Now I can feel the real you under my fingertips.” He whispers.

The shift of his gaze has my breath catching. He lets his gaze linger, possibly memorizing the shape of my lips. Huntley looks and feels just like he did in my dreams, only better I think when his lips taste mine. I rise to my knees on the bed, leaning against his flat stomach and hard chest to get closer to him. He groans into my mouth as he pushes his tongue to meet mine. They dance and tangle and play as both his hands hold my face close to his. My own fingers glide over his lean arms as they flex and jump under my touch. I feel the effects of euphoria as he draws away, breathing heavily as he joins our foreheads.

“I need to go before she comes looking for me, or worse, Zelus comes looking for you.” Huntley says, completely destroying the whole mood.

“Who is she?” I branch, thinking of him with another woman after we just shared a kiss.

“Selena.” He says the name like it’s a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Why would a 'nobody' look just like a Regius and also hang out with them, huh?” i demand, the question accusing.

My words sound a little sharp even to my ears. But I cannot help the suspicion growing. I won't be blindsided by our history. I don’t really know him, and I certainly don’t know what role he plays here in this court. Nothing could be as it seems.

“One with unfortunate genes.” Huntley smiles goofily, lighting up his creamy skin.

I know what he’s doing and when the smile falls, I know he knows I know too. He’s avoiding my question. He doesn’t want to elaborate or give any details away to me.

He frowns, "Its not what you think."

I don’t believe him for a second, “Sure it isnt." Narrowing my eyes at him, i ask a question i think he will answer, "How old are you?”

He seems uncomfortable as he answers, a nervous smile pulling at his well-shaped lips, “Nineteen.”

Pallas' words ring in my ears. All wolves are born with brown hair that changes when they first transform, except the royal family.

I narrowed green eyes at him suspiciously, “So, you aren’t one of them?” I wait for him to lie.

His smile fades away and a pained expression accompanies the words that follow, “I pray you never find out what I am.” He says, “Oh and Novena, you should probably shower. Zelus will smell me on you otherwise.” He warns.

Releasing his hold faster than I could react, Huntley turns on his heel, quickly leaving the room. I watch after him, long after he has already disappeared and the figuratively speaking dust has settled. Feeling more confused and upset then before he showed up, I finally make my way to the bathroom.