[SILVER RAYNE WILLIAMS]

ONE WOULD THINK that after my rattle with Lady Elise, the morning's surprises for my sake should be over. That I should be given a moment of peace, even just for a half hour, as I go see my sister.

But no.

Fate shames any sliver of peace that comes my way.
Kills it with a double-edged sword, and presents me with trouble instead.

I stare at Hunter as I descend the stairs. He is talking to a red guard down below.

At least he is distracted. I may be able to slip by undetected.

I have no notable hate for the boy, truly, but is it wrong that I sometimes don't want to be around him?

Does that mean I resent him?

Our last interaction revealed many things. I didn't hate him as much as I thought.

I brush these thoughts off, praying instead that I can simply slip by.

It feels awkward when I am around him. I have nothing to hate him for, if not that his father is a beast and he is a fang. Still, I don't think I can say I like him either.

From the corner of my eye, I watch the red guard salute and leave his presence. The young Prince watches the guard leave for a moment too long and visibly sighs, his eyes falling to the ground where he seems to stare at his feet for a couple of seconds.

My eyebrows arch at this, but I look away when he looks upwards and catches me staring.

He now stands at his full height. Shorter than me, yes, but still I know in a year I will not have that victory. His green eyes watch me descend the stairs.

Shit. His waiting.

Waiting for me.

"Leave. Please just leave. Come on, Just go," I hiss lowly between my teeth.

But he places his hand behind his back, now watching quite openly.

I curse beneath my breath as I find the ground. If only the front door wasn't in his direction and two feet away from him, I would have spun the other way and walked out of the door.

Unfortunately, like I said, Fate murders my peace each time it's reborn.

"Silver," He grins, his green eyes sparkling, a boyish grin dawning on his face, "I-we haven't talked since the Gathering."

I nod, and I smile.

It is dull and forced but I feel I should. Unfortunately- I mean. He is my.... my brother.

How strange. No. He is not. Brother is just a formality. We are as far from siblings as possible.

My throat runs dry.

"Yes. Since the Race.." I trail off.

Silence settles between us, and my gaze shifts to the door. Only two feet away. I just needed to move two feet away from this awkward conversation.

"I'm uh- I'm glad you enjoyed the bacon," he hints.

I pause. Bacon? Oh.. Breakfast.

"Yes," I nod my head, though farther away from the conversation than earlier, "Very uh-tasty."

He smiles, "It's my favorite, it's not breakfast without at least three plates of bacon," he adds, this time his smile widens.

Oh, yes. He's a wolf. Wolves love meat. Lord Bane, equals Hunter.

I smile and nod. Routine. Practiced. My gaze strays toward the door.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asks, his smile now seems permanently engraved on his face as if he does not feel how awkward the space between us is anymore.

My gaze shifts back to him, trying to find the conversation, "Yes.." I glance at the door, "Vella, I'm going to see Vella."

"Oh.." The spark in his eyes slowly fades, but he nods looking away, "All alright."

I pause at the sudden shift in his tone. It is then I realize what I have said. For some reason, I begin to feel bad. I have no reason to. I could be care less and still, I feel I have been insensitive.

How ridiculous. He's a Fang. Sure, I've read all about the supposed mate bond, and still, I couldn't care less.

He is a big Arc Wolf. He doesn't get hurt by a single word.

I study his shifty expression.

The way his eyes look anywhere but me, the tightness in his jaw, the cave-in shoulders. For a moment I remember when he came by the doors of my room, eyes full of worry asking for Vella, after her meltdown.

The bond was a... Curious thing. A stupid but curious thing.

I purse my lips, clearing my throat. Anything to shift this conversation, "but, you must be busy too." I manage to say.

His gaze shifts, looking back at me.

"Princely duties and whatnot," I ramble, gesturing to the guard that left.

He glances behind him for a moment as if the guard still lingers, then looks back at me, a small smile returning to his face, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "Zardow was just informing me Lord Graydon won't be here for our morning session."

My eyebrows arch slightly,

"He was supposed to teach me to fence, but It seems he and Roman have some sort of meeting."

The indictment.

"Ah," I respond, nodding. I clasp my hands together making sure I do not dawn a tell-all face amongst all the things running through my head right now I'm trying to painfully set aside. Including my meeting with Lady Elise and the ultimatum.

No, I would think about that later. After Vella.

"I would ask Sir Eldon, but he's been busy since the Gathering, everyone's been busy since the launch," he added quietly, "Even Roman, and I thought I could count on him to always be the same.." he trailed off pursing his lips.

His gaze is off me, seemingly lost.

I feel strange even thinking this, but the boy looks, sad, perhaps lonely.

"Well, I'm sure you have all the time in the world to play now, you must be happy. Find your friends and play some games." I shrug.

It is a break from princely duties. You would think he would have a little bit more Pep in his step.

He blinks for a moment, and stands straighter, but doesn't say anything.

I study him, my eyebrows drawing in at the shift in his stature, quieter this time when I speak, "You do have friends..." I press.

"I do." he replies quietly, then he adds even softer, "Sometimes."

"What an odd answer," I chuckle. "You're a prince, living in a big ass house," I basically blurt, gesturing to Fang Court, "Excuse my French, but You must have the toys in the world, or whatever it is teenage fang boys like to play with. Every young noble must be dying to be your friend. A link to the crown."

He chuckles at this, "I suppose..." he trails off, and glances away.

Another odd answer. I study his expression.

Lonely.

He is lonely. The prince with everything he ever desires is lonely.

I grow quiet. The silence lengthens.

Oh my. Does he truly have no friends?

My gaze roams the big Fang court. Too big to feel like a home, half the time I could have sworn this was some hotel.

I remember how eager he was to spend time with Prince Roman. Prince Roman above all people? He was the most unfeeling person in the world I could bet all my good invisible money on the fact that he was no fun, and definitely not someone a teenage wolf boy would like to be around.

And yet. He was eager.

How lonely must someone be to take the Tribrid as a friend? Lord Graydon must have been such a breath of fresh air and he's a grown man.

"I don't wish to keep you, Silver, Vella must be waiting," Hunter bows, "Good day,"

He finally gives me my space and walks passed me.

I am still frozen at the realization.

How sad. How incredibly sad.

Still. What do I care? I didn't know him. He was a fang. This was his life. Though lonely, it was a thousand times better than 99 percent of the current human population.

Boo hoo, for the rich lonely prince.

I rolled my eyes walking toward the door. 2 steps, to freedom, I was almost out but I suddenly froze.

I just freeze. My feet refuse to move.

Despite my better judgment, I slowly look at Hunter's retreating Frame. I watch him.

I am familiar with that loneliness strangely.

At school, I didn't have many friends. Not because no one wanted to be my friend, I just, didn't know how to be a friend.

My friends were my family, Dad, Vella.

They were human, they gave me enough meaning that even when I was lonely, it was never really that apparent. But Hunter had Lord Valcon for a Father, and Prince Roman for somewhat of a brother.

"Hunter." It is a soft call. One I barely register escapes my lips.

He turns at the sound of his name, raising both eyebrows in his princely stature, "Yes?"

I stare at him for a moment longer, his hands placed neatly behind his back. For a moment, he looked like a boy, a normal teenage boy.

One who had taken many lessons on posture, yes, but a boy nevertheless. At this angle, he looked almost human.

The greatest Fang deception. They look so human. They make you feel like they might be.

This was to be Vella's mate.

I wasn't a hundred percent sure about him, but from all I've observed, he had more of Edens's stature than he was Lord Valcons. I didn't hate the boy because there was nothing to hate other than what he was.

But despite it all, Vella would end up with him whether I wanted it or not. It was time to face the music. But if he was to be worthy of her, he had to not be like his father.

"Come with me," I state. The words feel foreign on my lips. Breathless even.

For a moment, I cannot believe I'm willingly volunteering. He seems to be taken aback by this too. His eyebrows draw in a deep crevice.

I hide my hands. They're shaking.

Still, I want m to see him with her, one more time. To see If I could, if he was maybe, impressionable enough to teach. If my mother had kept a piece of her alive in him enough to mold.

"With you?" his gaze flashes to the door, "to see Vella?"

His voice grows quiet and softer, cracking slightly.

He shakes his head when I nod, once and then three times too many.

"No, No..." he trails off, his gaze flashes to mine, "Thank you, but It's not a good idea."

He pauses and swallows slightly. Yet he looks at the door with hidden longing, one that disappears in seconds when he speaks again, lighter than a whisper. His voice is filled with shame.

"She uhm- she hates me." The confession on his lips sounds like a bitter pill the way his face contorts for a moment, and he hides it by looking at the ground.

I purse my lips at the statement.

I cannot deny those words. I believe she once told me those very words. But then, she was afraid, as was I.

I knew him, slightly better now. At least enough to think Eden had succeeded in keeping a piece of her alive in him.

I was set to know him more. If this was the Fang that Vella would spend her days with, I had to.

"Well, do you wish to change that? Or will you live in her hate for always?"

He looks at me for a moment, seemingly studying me, taken aback at my rather encouraging words, but then looks away.

"Mother says it's best I stay away for now. After the ball I..." he trails off, "I think so too."

"Eden said that?" I ask. Faster than I intended. That she did defend Vella.

He seems embarrassed, "Mother has taught me, that, we..." he hangs, "Fang can be overwhelming sometimes. I..." he trails off as if struggling to find the words then looks into my eyes with such depth I am unsure of what to say.

"Can be overwhelming for her. She hates me already. I fear I'll only make it worse."

I looked at him for a moment. The words are too rough to come out. The truth is, He was overwhelming. Forcing her to dance, always around.

I look at the ground for a moment, humming, "Or— you could make it better."

His eyes flash to me at my words, eyebrows still drawn in.

I look out the door, sighing, "Look, are you coming along Lord Hunter, or are you too busy?" I ask finally, looking over at him.

His gaze trails to the door for a moment, thoughtfully. His breathing seems to deepen. Then he nods slowly.

I let out a loose breath. I might just be stupid.

"Well Hurry, time is ticking," I grunt, walking out the door, inwardly cursing myself.

--------------------------------

Hunter catches up to me quite easily as we walk side by side towards West House through the gardens, there is a comfortable space between us.

I glance at him and he seems nervous and unsure as he walks. I am nervous too. I ask myself if I truly know what I'm doing if this is right- but I also know I must see once and for all.

"Why do you want to Fence?" I ask.

He glances at me at the question, it seems to stir him out of the depth of his thoughts.

He shrugs for a moment, "I like the feel of a saber in my hands. It's lighter than a sword, and if it feels more like a sport than actual battle tactics. Like I'm not meant to kill someone, just a sport," he grins, "fun, friendly competition."

I blink at his words, "And swordplay feels..." trail off glancing at him.

He purses his lips, "Father says the war is coming again. Sword Play feels like I'm preparing for that war. Like I'm supposed to claim lives with it."

"War?" I echo, then chuckle, "Who would declare war on the house Veridian? The revolution?" I huff.

I've heard of the human revolution, but It feels like a ghost tale that humans tell each other to give us hope that there is someone out there still fighting.

"Yes, but also the Sovereign."

My eyebrows draw in, "who is the sovereign?"

Hunter shakes his head, "I'm not sure. I overheard one of the members of the tribe whisper about it in passing. It sounds serious."

My eyebrows draw in, thinking through. The Sovereign? Who would be powerful enough to take on the Oath of Veridian? The Free States military plight is nothing compared to the Rule of Veridians.

My gaze trails to West House as it looms up ahead of us. A small smile breaks my face at the thought of seeing Vella.

I almost run up the stairs, skipping two at a time, until I feel that I am alone, no prince fang boy walks beside me. I stop midway turning back.

Hunter is calmly standing at the foot of the stairs, his gaze heavy on the doors of West House.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

His eyes shifts to me, and then swallows, "I'll—wait here."

I press my lips to clock in the frustration. He was stealing precious time I could be spending with Vella.

I march down a few stairs to him, "Do you know why she hates you?" I grit.

At the direct statement, he visibly stiffens, but replies quietly, "Yes. I am a fang."

"And you call her mate, and you always want to touch her, dance with her, and you do not give her space, and you push her to do things she is not comfortable to do, understand, Hunter, that there are many, many reasons she dislikes you."

His jaw clenches, lips pressed tightly, but he replies, "I understand."

I stare at him for a moment, then my shoulders fall, and I cave. I walk down the last two stairs, standing before him.

"Why?" I ask softly. Truly I wish to the know the answer. Bond or no bond. He was young. 

"Why can't you just be her friend? You above all people know what it's like here. Why scare her?"

His eyebrows draw in, and his gaze falls.

"Call her Vella, not mate. She has name. Not a title. She's a kid. You're a kid. Do what kids do. You want her to like you..." I trail off, "then be her friend. Not her mate." I rest a hand on his shoulder, "You need a friend too."

He stares into my eyes for moments that linger.

It reminds me to let go. It reminds me I'm touch him. And I do so, feeling kind of stupid as I retract my hand.

Like I said, sometimes they look human enough that you treat them like one, and then you remember you've just taught them what it is to be human, therefore they couldn't be one to begin with.

I turn around and climb up the stairs, "Are you coming wolf boy?" I call over my shoulder.

It's a moment before I hear his footsteps follow after me, heavy against tiles.

I'm either incredibly smart or painfully stupid.