My Name is NOT Cupcake

Chapter 12

The next morning, I stretched and took a quick shower. I dressed in a pair or baggy gray sweatpants

and a loose-fitting black t-shirt. I walked down the curved staircase and into the kitchen. The room was

bright with sunlight. Elias was already there with food.

"Morning, sweet cakes," he smiled

"Sweet cakes?" I asked, weirded-out.

"Honey bun?" he tried again.

I shook my head.

"Cupcake?"

"No."

"Sweetheart."

"No."

"Princess."

"No."

"You know I was really gunning for cupcake."

"Stop... just stop," I said in frustration, sitting at the bar. "Nova will suffice, Elias," I said.

"Elias is what everyone else calls me. My family calls me Eli. You can call me that as well," he said,

setting a plate down in front of me.

"No," I replied.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No-"

"For the love of the moon, stop it," someone said, entering the kitchen. I blushed as I looked down and

Elias chuckled.

"Taylor, this is Nova," Elias smiled. Taylor was a big guy. He had black hair and grey eyes like Elias.

The only difference being that Taylor looked like a younger beefcake version with shorter hair.

"You're big," I blurted. Taylor laughed. I blushed even harder. I meant to say hello. Darn, my non-

existent brain-to-mouth filter.

"Nova, this is my little brother, Taylor," Elias said. I smiled shyly and started eating.

"So did you hear about that brat, Mason? He wants permission to search our... town. Uzeo si djevojku,

zar ne? (Croatian: You took the girl, didn't you?)" he asked Elias.

"Mason? Mason's coming?" I asked as I perked. Elias glared and practically growled.

"No, he's not. I'll be damned if he... does something stupid," he answered me before turning to Taylor.

"Nisam imao izbora, svojoj klasi bio na izletu, ili bilo što, a ja sam imao samo jedan mali prozor

mogućnosti. (Croatian: I had no choice, Her class was on a field trip, or whatever, and I only had a

small window of opportunity.)," he rambled off in the foreign language.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

"What language is that?" I asked confused.

"Croatian," Taylor answered absentmindedly.

"Why is Mason coming?" I asked confused. They both hesitated, having a stare off before Taylor

sighed and broke eye contact first.

"We don't know. We think he's trying to retrieve you, but we won't let him get that far," Taylor promised.

"But Mason is my... friend," I said. Elias shook his head and took my empty plate.

"Not right now he's not," Elias muttered. "Nova, why don't you continue reading that book I gave you? I

have business to attend to," to said before he left the kitchen. Taylor shot me an apologetic look before

he followed behind him. I went back to the bedroom and decided to continue reading, but not because

Elias told me to.

'The lone wolf, or the rogue, is either born into that life or they have been exiled from a pack. It is rare

that a pack will accept a rogue to join them, but not impossible. Rogues can be driven mad by the

loneliness. Mainly, the rogue will just try to reek havoc on packs surrounding them. All Lycan have a

specified job from, practically, birth.

A Salutary is a healer, or doctor. They show a gift of nurturing at a young age. They are taught old

healing recipes and anatomy of the Lycan. They serve in the hospitals, nursing centers, and

orphanages. Their main job is caretaker. The Sentinel, or warriors, are mainly male. They show great

promise in being strong fighters at an early age. They are trained in combat and stealth. Trackers, do

exactly that. They have a keen sense of smell, even more so than a normal Lycan. They are quick and

quiet. From their childhood, they learn to be hidden and quick. Their sense of smell is used to track

pretty much anything.'