The Nap And Celebration

  After finishing her meal, Seraphina pushed back her chair, her movements stiff and reluctant. 

  She glanced at Adolphus’s mother, who stood by the sink washing dishes, her kindness palpable in every gesture. 

  Seraphina swallowed her pride and mumbled, “Thank you for the food.”

  His mother turned, her smile gentle and understanding. “You’re welcome, dear. You can always come back if you need anything.”

  Seraphina gave a faint nod, clutching the bundle of clothes to her chest as she left. 

  The moment she stepped out of the house, she heard footsteps behind her. Adolphus was following, his strides long and casual, but his presence was anything but subtle.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Why are you following me?” she snapped, her voice laced with irritation.

  “I want to make sure you don’t get lost,” he said smoothly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Wouldn’t want you wandering into the woods and getting eaten.”

  “I can handle myself,” she retorted, quickening her pace toward his apartment.

  Adolphus smirked, keeping pace effortlessly. “Oh, I know you think you can.”

  She didn’t dignify his teasing with a response, instead stomping up the steps to his apartment and slamming the door in his face. 

  She headed straight for the small room that had been designated as hers, tossing the clothes onto the bed before closing the door firmly behind her.

  Adolphus stood outside for a moment, his smirk fading as he glanced back toward his mother’s house. Her sad, knowing eyes lingered in his mind, and he sighed deeply before heading back to his own space.

  Inside her room, Seraphina leaned against the closed door, letting out a long breath. 

  Her shoulders slumped as the tension drained from her body. 

  Dropping the bundle of clothes onto the bed, she changed into the clean jeans and shirt. 

  The worn fabric felt surprisingly soft against her skin, and though she hated to admit it, she felt slightly more comfortable in her own clothes.

  She flopped onto the bed, the springs creaking softly under her weight. 

  The oversized shirt hugged her frame loosely, and she caught a faint whiff of detergent mixed with Adolphus’s scent. 

  It was annoyingly comforting, and she wrinkled her nose in frustration.

  Closing her eyes, she muttered to herself, “It’s just lunch… I deserve a nap.”

  The room was silent except for the faint rustle of leaves outside the window. Seraphina sank deeper into the mattress, her exhaustion taking hold. 

  Her body felt heavy, her mind clouded with a mixture of thoughts she didn’t want to unpack.

  Before she knew it, sleep claimed her.

  Seraphina woke up to the dim amber glow of evening sunlight filtering through the window, the world outside alive with faint murmurs and distant laughter. 

  Her head throbbed slightly, a dull ache at her temples that reminded her of how much her body had yet to adjust. 

  Grogginess clung to her like a heavy fog, but she pushed herself up from the bed, running a hand through her messy hair.

  “I need a shower,” she muttered to herself, her voice hoarse and dry. “And a walk.”

  She moved swiftly, rinsing away the remnants of sleep and sweat in the small bathroom before changing into the clean clothes she’d been given earlier. 

  The faint scent of detergent still clung to the fabric, and she ignored the flicker of comfort it brought. Pulling on her jacket, she stepped out into the cool evening air.

  The village was alive. A low hum of music, laughter, and voices drifted through the trees, beckoning her toward the source of the noise. 

  The celebration seemed casual yet vibrant, with the unmistakable sound of drums and stringed instruments weaving through the air. 

  Seraphina frowned, her footsteps hesitant as she followed the sounds.

  How do they do it? she wondered bitterly. 

  After annihilating my family, they have the stomach to celebrate every night? To dance and laugh like nothing ever happened?

  Her fists clenched at her sides, but she didn’t turn back. 

  She told herself it was curiosity—nothing more. She wanted to see, to understand what kind of people could live like this after wreaking such destruction. 

  The anger simmered beneath her skin, but it was accompanied by something else. A hollow ache that she tried to bury.

  As she reached the gathering, she caught sight of the werewolves dancing under a string of lanterns strung across the clearing. 

  Men, women, and even children swayed and moved to the rhythm of the music, their faces alight with joy and camaraderie. 

  It was surreal, almost otherworldly. Seraphina’s steps faltered, and she almost turned back. But then her gaze locked onto Adolphus.

  He was seated near the edge of the celebration, relaxed and at ease. 

  His broad shoulders seemed even more imposing in the flickering light of the lanterns, and he was dressed simply in a black shirt that clung to his chest and dark jeans that fit him too perfectly. 

  He looked like he belonged here, like this chaos and joy were a part of him.

  As if sensing her, Adolphus turned his head and met her gaze. 

  His eyes lit up with something akin to amusement, but he didn’t move or speak. He simply patted the seat next to him, an unspoken invitation.

  Seraphina swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She considered ignoring him, but then she noticed the stares. 

  The other men—other werewolves—had noticed her presence. Their gazes were sharp and probing, and it made her skin crawl.

  Reluctantly, she moved toward Adolphus. Better the devil I know than the pack of wolves I don’t. 

  She sat down stiffly next to him, trying to pretend his proximity didn’t bother her.

  Adolphus smirked, leaning back slightly in his chair. “I see you’ve finally decided to join the festivities.”

  “I’m not here for fun,” she replied sharply, folding her arms across her chest. Her eyes darted to the dancers. “I’m here because I’m curious.”

  “Curious about what?” he asked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

  “How you all can dance and laugh after destroying my family,” she said, her voice low but cutting.