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Chapter 19
The forest thinned as Lyra and Fenris made their way down the mountain, giving way to rolling hills covered in tall grass. The morning sun bathed the landscape in a warm, golden light, belying the weight of their mission. They walked in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Lyra’s hand kept straying to the pouch at her belt, reassuring herself that the Moonstone shard was still there. Its presence was a constant reminder of the enormous responsibility she bore. The events at the Temple of the Moon had shaken her more than she cared to admit, and Fenris’s revelations about his past had left her feeling both closer to him and acutely aware of how little she had shared of herself.
As they crested a hill, a vast plain stretched out before them, dotted with clusters of trees and the occasional glint of water. Fenris paused, scanning the horizon with his keen eyes. “We should make for that copse of trees,” he said, pointing to a dense thicket about a mile distant. “It’ll provide better cover for us to rest and plan our next move.”
Lyra nodded, grateful for his practical nature. As they set off across the plain, she found herself studying Fenris’s profile, noting the way he moved with fluid grace despite his imposing size. There was a newfound openness to his expression, as if sharing his past had lifted a weight from his shoulders.
“Fenris,” she began hesitantly, “I’ve been thinking about what you told me last night. About your pack, and why you joined this quest.”
He glanced at her, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before being replaced by his usual stoic expression. “Oh? And what conclusions have you drawn, oh wise one?”
The gentle teasing in his tone brought a smile to Lyra’s lips, easing some of the tension she felt. “Well, for one thing, I think I owe you an apology. Or rather, another apology.”
Fenris raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “You’ve already apologized for the temple incident. What’s this one for?”
Lyra took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “For not trusting you fully from the beginning. For keeping you at arm’s length. I’ve been so focused on the prophecy, on the weight of this quest, that I haven’t been fair to you as a partner. As a friend.”
He was quiet for a moment, considering her words. When he spoke, his voice was soft, tinged with understanding. “You don’t owe me an apology for that, Lyra. Trust is earned, not given freely. And let’s face it, a lone werewolf with a mysterious past isn’t exactly the most trustworthy figure at first glance.”
“Maybe not,” Lyra conceded, “but you’ve more than proven yourself. You’ve saved my life, stood by me through dangers I can hardly believe we survived. And I’ve given you so little in return.”Exclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.
They had reached the copse of trees, the shade a welcome respite from the growing heat of the day. Fenris found a fallen log and sat, patting the space beside him in invitation. Lyra joined him, grateful for the chance to rest her weary feet.
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Fenris said, his amber eyes searching her face. “You’ve given me purpose, a chance at redemption. That’s no small thing.”
Lyra shook her head, frustration evident in her voice. “But that’s just it. I’ve burdened you with this quest, with the weight of a prophecy you never asked to be part of. And I’ve told you so little about why it matters, about…” She trailed off, struggling to find the words.
Fenris reached out, gently taking her hand in his. The gesture was so unexpected, so tender, that Lyra felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “Then tell me now,” he said simply. “I’m here to listen, just as you listened to me.”