All right, I have decided to continue with this story and I've worked on it for a bit so hopefully it's better!
**Edited Version**
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TWO
We decide to return after that incident and it is lunchtime when we arrive. It’s being served in the courtyard and Vinnie’s mood brightens slightly at this; she waltzes over to an empty table, singing under her breath. The courtyard is buzzing with sound, most of the Pack out here enjoying the nice weather. A soft wind blows through the area, hitting my face and engulfing me with the various scents of the bodies around me. I spot Ranashi out of the corner of my eye and give her a clear warning stare. She jolts at the fierceness then turns to her meat, clearly bothered. I nod firmly at her friend brave enough to question me and spin towards Vinnie, where two plates of raw meat are placed before us. Juicy and pooling blood, my mouth waters involuntarily and I quickly sit. Ripping a chunk with my incisors, the meat slides satisfyingly down my throat; the blood is salty to the taste, thick and rich. I glance at Vinnie, wondering if she is enjoying it as much as I am and see with bewilderment that she is poking the same spot on her raw steak with false enthusiasm. “Vin, aren’t you going to eat?” I question. She shrugs halfheartedly, and I frown.
“Human’s eat cooked meat,” she moans glumly.
“Well you’re not human, are you?” I growl, taking another enormous chunk from my meal.
“No, but I—“
“Don’t say it,” I cut in, emphasizing every word. How dare she even think of it! I look away from her with disgust as fear of retching is close at hand, the meat turning to ash in my mouth. What is going on with Vinnie?
I glare in Ranashi’s direction, and she glares right back. How could she tell Vinnie stories of valor with human’s when she knew Vinnie had a fascination with their kind? I look up to see Vinnie staring off into space with a look of wonder present on the planes and angels of her handsome complexion. I advert my eyes and to the one tree in the courtyard—it is immense with branches stretching from one side of the courtyard to the other and the leaves are a luscious green tinted with gold as autumn threatens to engulf us.
Beneath it sits a young man, his legs stretched out before him with a book propped in one hand, covering his face. Inky black curls peek out from behind it and his long fingers curl around the cover of the intimidating novel he reads—almost two inches in width. He leans the book away from his face as if he could sense me watching him and meets my gaze. Those deep, intense green eyes stare me down and those chiseled cheeks and chin face me with defiance. His thick eyebrows rise in surprise and a flicker of interest flashes across his eyes. I jolt at this when the book covers his face again, and I am left feeling awkward and out-of-place. I have never seen this boy about, and I wonder at his position in the Pack.
I hear Vinnie’s plate scrape against the wooden table, and I peek over at her. She is hunched over her plate, yanking it from one side and to the other, her gaze clouded with fantasies. I sigh and finish my steak with a loud swallow, the meat landing heavily in my stomach. “You must snap out of this trance this human lad has you in,” I order roughly, and she sighs, melancholy controlling her thoughts.
“Oh Nish, I’m sorry I’m being such a bore.” She sighs again. I close my eyes briefly, praying I will hold my tongue for once and leave her be upset in peace.
“You’re not being a bore,” I say, faking upbeat and cheerful. I fail miserably as Vinnie draws out a weak laugh.
“Nice try. You hate me for being like this.”
“I don’t hate you, Vin. I just hate seeing you so sad,” I explain.
“Sorry,” she apologizes, and I shrug, picking up my plate with a drop of blood lying there. I swipe my finger over it and lick it off with a smack of my lips. She giggles and dumps her uneaten food in the nearest garbage; I shake my head. She sees this and quickly says, “I wasn’t hungry.”
I roll my eyes and stack my plate up with the others as we pass through the archway back into the house. Ranashi and her posse are pressed up against the far wall. They all stare disdainfully in my direction, but greet Vinnie warmly.
“Hey, Vin. Why don’t you join us?” Ranashi invites. I breathe deeply and force a smile for Vinnie’s sake. She smiles back and skips over to join them, her blonde curls bouncing buoyantly. I watch her go with apprehension before shuffling my way back into the cool confines of our home.
Inside, I head for the den and the warm fire. I spot with a growl Timlee curled up in his favorite chair, gazing thoughtfully into the fire, the flames reflecting in his cold black eyes. I steer towards the chair farthest from his chilled presence and crawl into the lush brown leather sofa. I pull out my drawing notebook and prop it on my knee. My latest drawing only half-done is peering back at me. It is a portrait of Vinnie as she looks out her bedroom window, the same position I found her countless times before. I heave a sigh, thinking of her with Ranashi. Nothing good will come of this, I know. Ranashi is manipulative, always scheming. I think back to the years previous, when the scandal of her and her human lover came to the surface. Oh, how the Pack howled at this news. And now, Vinnie thinks she can do the same.
I mentally shake myself, pushing this all away as I flip to a new page. I see Timlee again and smile, beginning to sketch.
I loose track of time as I draw and when I glance up for about the twentieth time—Timlee appears as though he is frozen in time—I feel a weight beside me and jolt. It is the young man whom was beneath the tree in the courtyard earlier. His intense eyes sweep over me with a bemused grin. “Gave you a fright? Sorry.” His voice is deep and alluring, rumbling inside of my chest.
“Oh no,” I squeak out pathetically and I want to strangle myself right then and there at my weakness; I see a handsome man and all reason leaves me.
“May I sit?” he asks, and I nod weakly. He pulls out the impossibly thick novel once again and I see there is no title. I look back to my model, but see with a groan that he is gone. I glance back at my paper. I had only managed his face—his coal black eyes that were reflecting the flames within and out in the grate he faced. His wide forehead burrowed in thought; nose wrinkled as if he smelled something unpleasant; mouth pursed in silent frustration; his hair ruffled as if a wind had recently blown through the room.
If I could say so myself, it was my best so far. It was so lifelike that I admire it from where I sit. But then, the man beside me clears his throat and I realize how close he really is. The sofa is hardly big enough for two people to sit side-by-side and not touch. His elbow brushes my shoulder as he turns a page and he awkwardly bumps my knee. I shrink away from the touch, and he notices. I will find a way to hang myself when this was over, I vow, feeling my cheeks flush. What am I doing? Acting like a pup before this guy! “What are you doing there?” he asks, peeking over my shoulder. I quickly flip the pages back into place and face it cover down, embarrassed.
“Nothing,” I quip, and he frowns.
“What are you reading?” I wonder, peering over at him. He glances back, weighing his options for reply.
Finally, he utters, “Nothing.” I wrinkle my nose in distaste and quickly stand. He looks on the verge of laughter as he stands with me.
“Sorry. It’s an older novel. One my Master insists I read,” he explains, and I spin to face him in astonishment.
“Your Master?” I press in disbelief.
“Yes.”
“You are a Pupil?” I continue in awe. There is only a few Pupils selected per decade so I am beyond flattered to actually be talking to one.
“Why yes, I am.”
“My, what is your name?”
“Dumen,” he replies. “May I inquire yours?”
“Nalisha,” I say promptly and his eyes widen.
“The Nalisha? The—“
“Cursed one. Damned one,” I sneer, turning away swiftly. I realize that he is no different than the other pack members. Judging me before they even know me.
“No, I—“ he cuts off, befuddled.
“Forget it. I know the tales they spread about me.”
“So they are tales?” he ventures cautiously.
“Why don’t you ask the ones spreading them as you are as bad as them,” I spit and spin on my heel, hair flying loose of my bun as I stomp away.
