Nicon

XXXV

PREVIOUSLY ON NICON...

"I didn't realize there was so much violence."

Victoria laid back on Elysie's bed. Elysie liked the fact that this woman was quick to warm up to her. "In addition to that, the Shifters don't like the fact that the Council has meetings every two weeks. Everyone's anxious about it. And after what happened to Killian, it seems like the war is just beginning."

Elysie stilled. The Council has meetings every two weeks? Her vision turned red as she realized Nicon had lied to her. She knew she wouldn't be reacting with such anger if it hadn't been for her heightened sense of emotion, but Elysie would be furious either way.

"He forgot to mention that he still hosted the Council," she said to Victoria, her voice cracking.

Victoria didn't say anything for a long moment, before she sighed and grabbed Elysie's forearm to help pull her up from her position. "I can't make your decisions for you, but I hope you decide to hear him out. We finally have a Luna."

XXXV

VICTORIA WAS A breath of fresh air for Elysie. Elysie's emotions had gotten the best of her and she kindly asked Victoria to leave so she could rest for a moment before dinner. She was foolish to think that Nicon would stop hiding things from her. She was a human. She didn't know how many times she had to remind herself of that fact before it would stick.

The bite on her neck didn't hurt anymore, in fact, it was completely healed. All that remained were tiny crescent scars where Nicon's canines had punctured. She was still furious about that, too.

She knew the bite was a meaningful experience, and she was angry he reacted so poorly and suddenly. Elysie treasured Victoria and Quentin's visit, but her mood was far too foul and she didn't want to feel guilty spending time with them while her mind was clearly elsewhere.

Her time at the castle had gone quickly, thanks to her extensive recovery, so she wasn't quite sure how many weeks she had been there, how many fortnights, or how many council meetings.

She stared at her ceiling, white and plain, and imagined she was staring at the ceiling of her home in the village. How could her mother have been so nonchalant about her daughter's disappearance? Elysie felt guilty for how little she had thought of her mother in the last few weeks. Nicon's world had swept her up and Elyise was worried it would soon swallow her whole.

She sat up abruptly, and static danced across her arms from where they rubbed against her sheets. Reaching down, she gingerly picked up her bag from where it had been strewn days before. She flipped through the first few pages, a forlorn and wistful feeling taking over. She looked at a beautiful sketch of her mother sitting on the front stoop of their house. She was staring off to the side, and Elysie had captured the way her cheekbones caught the light, which cast a shadow on her neck and down her right arm. Her lips were parted in curiosity and she held a sketchbook of her own.

Elysie remembered that day. It was years ago, one of the first times she remembered her mother to be happy and smiling after her father's death. The drawing itself was harsh and hasty, the work of a young girl coping with a deep sadness. For as long as she could remember, her father was sick and weak, and when he passed Elysie felt relieved for him. He was finally without suffering.

And now her mother suffered, as she was without the only other member of her family. Elysie's guilt tore at her heart until it was a physical sensation that she could not rid herself of. On top of that, she felt equally guilty about how she reacted when Syd had his nightmare. She only hoped Nicon was merciful in his punishments. She couldn't stand the thought of Syd suffering, especially after Killian's death. Elysie missed him deeply and wished she could be there for him.