Moonstruck

𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓽𝔀𝓸 | Darling Sleepwalking

"You're rather quiet today, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"

Seth watched the woman he called his mother admire her reflection in the floor-length mirror, dressed in a long red gown and giggling like a little girl. Despite his neverending protests over the past couple of months, his father had continued administering the lycaine on a regular basis. A mere few days ago, she'd looked more like a creature of the undead than a werewolf—a withering wisp of a thing. Now, she looked fuller and rosier than Seth had ever seen her.

He tried for a smile. "Never better." He wondered what had gotten into her, suddenly complaining that most of her clothes were torn and dirtied and consequently demanding a near complete wardrobe overhaul. She had always been so clean and organized, had always had a habit of taking the most meticulous care of her things. Even stranger was her vehement refusal to let Seth look at any of her supposedly soiled clothes, insisting that there was nothing worthwhile for anyone to see. "But are you sure you're alright?"

Darlene gave a hearty laugh without breaking eye contact with her reflection. The dress she had on was uncannily familiar. For some reason, her mouth appeared larger and wider than Seth remembered, her lips uncharacteristically blood-red. Had her teeth always been that sharp? "I feel positively amazing—like a brand new person. In fact, I don't recall feeling so... so vigorous since before I became your father's mate."

It made no sense. Seth knew what natural healing looked like. He knew not to underestimate the amount of time it took for broken bones and torn flesh to mend themselves, even for werewolves of the healthiest disposition. Every time his father landed him in the hospital, since early childhood, it would take what felt like forever for his bruises and burns to fade away. Mateo had taken weeks to recover from his time in Lazuli; even after getting discharged from Cardina Medical Center, he was only just now beginning to feel well enough to stand up and walk about without too much struggle. And, as far as Seth knew, Darlene Reagan had never been particularly strong or healthy.

"If that's the case," Seth said, "does that mean you're off the lycaine now?"

Darlene's head snapped around to face him, and for a chilling moment her eyes were not those of a woman, but a beast. Then she laughed again, her voice this time a touch harsher. "Me, stop taking lycaine? Why, dear, don't be ridiculous!" She strode over to him, skirts swishing, and stroked his face. "You haven't said anything half so absurd for several months now—not since your father finally released you from confinement. Don't tell me we're losing our heads again?"

Seth bit back a scathing retort. It wouldn't do to anger his father and be locked up again; another year of house arrest, and he really might go insane this time—if he wasn't already. Yet he couldn't say nothing. "You know that girl, Kamilah Kaur? She's also taking lycaine, and—"

"Ah, yes." Darlene returned to the mirror to scour her face for wrinkles, leaning in so close to the glass that it fogged up where her breath touched it. "The little rogue girl. I hear she caused quite the scene out there with her little... fit. Next time anything like that happens, could you please be a dear and take care of it with more discretion, sweetheart? It really doesn't reflect well on us when such disturbances occur." Upon Seth's pointed silence, she added, "Now, what in Aurelia's name has gotten you so worked up—could it possibly be little old me? Why, I'm touched. But your friend is just a rogue, darling."

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well," she replied, "Caleb did mention that it could potentially cause a wide variety of reactions in different people. It's obvious now he was right. Perhaps you two can delve into the science behind it and come up with a proper explanation as to why my body is so superior to that of a rogue's. But until then, we can only speculate."