Morningstar

[CH. 0011] - The Protector

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened. – Dr. Seuss

Nord felt her wrist enveloped in Adamastor's cool grip, her heart thumping in expectation. She braced herself for the sensation of fangs piercing her skin, for the familiar sting that felt like a thousand needles. But it never came. Instead, Adamastor gently caressed her wrist, his fingertips tracing the blue pathways of her veins. It was as though he was reading her life story through those lines, and for a moment, the room fell eerily quiet, save for the soft pulse of her blood beneath her skin.

Then, Adamastor lifted her wrist to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on her skin. "I'll go hunt tonight; don't be alarmed if you hear any noise," he said softly, releasing her wrist as he turned to leave the study.

Confused, her heart pounding, Nord stood there, trying to process what had just happened. Had he rejected her blood after explicitly asking for it? She brought her wrist to her nose, sniffing as if some olfactory clue could unravel the mystery.

Was there something wrong with her? Had she misunderstood? Or was it something else entirely—a hidden boundary or taboo she was unaware of?

As Nord pondered, it occurred to her that perhaps Adamastor's decision to hunt rather than take her offer was not a rejection but a form of respect, an unspoken agreement to not cross certain lines, at least not yet. Maybe he was leaving room for choices yet to be made, for futures not yet written.

In that room, heavy with the scent of old books and citrus, Nord felt the silence tell her more than words ever could. She had offered a choice, and in his own way, Adamastor had chosen. It was an ambiguity laden with promise and peril, but for the moment, it was enough.

The dining room was a symphony of laughter and clinking dishes, the atmosphere transformed by the addition of Kirara and Finnea to their duo. What had started as a simple meal between her and Adamastor had morphed into something more vibrant? This lively feast felt like celebrating the unexpected friendships forming before her eyes?

Kirara, the mischievous cat with a penchant for drama, was in her element. She darted around the table, eyes gleaming with playful intent, as she attempted to snatch morsels of meat from everyone's plates.

"Nuh-uh, Kirara! That's my steak!" Finnea chuckled, pulling her plate away just in time to thwart Kirara's latest attempt.

Not to be outdone, Adamastor joined in on the fun. He usually abstained from human food, given his unique dietary requirements, but tonight was different. He placed a small portion of roasted chicken onto his plate and winked at Nord as if to say, 'Why not?'

Nord laughed as Kirara zeroed in on Adamastor's plate, only to be foiled by his lightning-fast reflexes. "Nice try, Kirara, but you're not the only one with quick moves," he teased, waving a piece of chicken in the air before setting it back on his plate.

The room was filled with a sense of camaraderie and joy, a far cry from the tense moments earlier in the study. The air was lighter, the weight of their choices and uncertainties temporarily set aside for the simpler joys of shared laughter and food.

As she watched Adamastor chuckling with Finnea, playfully fending off Kirara's relentless culinary assaults, Nord felt a warmth spread through her.

The mood shifted palpably as Adamastor broached the topic of the upcoming funeral, a sombre reminder that even the most joyful moments could be fleeting.