The Darkest Star

Ch. 3 Friendships

Melisande huffed in annoyance and glared across the room at her brother. It's been four weeks since Salem came to live with them and things aren't going her way. Don't get her wrong, she likes Salem but she doesn't like how he seems happier to hang out with her brother. Her mother told her it was just a boy thing, that he looked up to him. Bullshit! Melisande and Salem got together great until Azrael walks into the room, and then the little Human is all but begging for his attention. Not that Azrael isn't happy to give it to him, her brother gives the boy whatever he wants.

Perhaps she's a little jealous. She'd never tell a soul. Instead, she settled on glaring at her brother's back. Salem had started school with them and Melisande had introduced him to all her friends but he wasn't much of a talker so he hadn't made any friends of his own. Some of her female friends were curious about the Human boy because Azrael let him hang out with him and his older friends. All females, Human and Wolf, did what they could to get closer to her brother.

Her parents basically took him in as their own, doting on the boy as much as Azrael did. Her mother had cried when Salem told them about how his foster parents kicked him out of the house and it was the park he stayed at where he was taken by Wolves. The female had smothered him with kisses and hugs until Azrael pulled him away. Melisande would of guessed he liked the attention. Not that she blamed him. She felt bad for him and already considered him a little brother. They were his family now.

"What do you think, Mel?" Salem turned towards her and showed the birdhouse Azrael had made and Salem had painted.

"It's pretty." She replied honestly. He'd painted it yellow with little pink flowers all over. He seemed to like doing that kind of thing, anything where he didn't have to talk really.

"It's for you." He turned it to show where he painted 'Mel' in calligraphy. She smiled brightly and attacked him with a hug making him squeal. Here she was, mad that he wasn't acknowledging her and he was painting a birdhouse for her. Azrael chuckled and carefully took the birdhouse and sat it down, its paint still wet. "I take it you like it?"

"Yes, thank you." She beamed and sat down beside him, smiling over his head at her brother. They sat for a while just joking around and talking, Salem at a point tried to teach Melisande how to write in calligraphy but she had no patience for it. When she'd snapped the paintbrush in half , he cleaned up the paint.

When Salem sat back down in the middle, Melisande watched as Azrael ran his hand down the back of Salem's head. The gesture was affectionate and proprietorial. Melisande raised a blonde brow. It seemed her brother hadn't even realized he'd done it, but she'd seen how Salem leaned into the touch which was uncommon in itself. Salem usually shied away from being touched but her brother's hand rested comfortably on his neck as they talked about Azrael's woodworking class. Maybe it was nothing, Wolves were very tactile and liked to be in contact with others all the time. Melisande didn't acknowledge that Salem was Human.

"You should cut your hair, it's gotten long." Melisande flicked a strand of Salem's silky black hair that hung just above his shoulders.

"No." He giggled and backed away from her fingers. "I like it long." Azrael hummed as if in agreement and Melisande huffed.

"Fine. Just don't take advice from Az, look at him." Salem glanced up at a frowning Azrael.

"I like his hair." He reached up and ran his fingers through Azrael's brown curls that he'd gotten from their father. The older teen smiled as his cheeks tinted pink.

"Oh no." Melisande groaned, her nose picking up the new scent before her brother did. Salem looked confused before the redhead walked into the room, her eyes for Azrael only. Melisande hasn't liked Samantha since the female called her a flat chested mutt. Melisande had shifted and ruined her favorite dress she wore to the weekly pack meeting, her mother had been disappointed in her lack of control.