The Fourth Chapter

It tastes like sticky sweet red wine.

She never knew that the taste of blood was just like drinking refreshing cool water.

Nevertheless, she enjoyed her orchard visit with her stepmom. Lush nature really makes one serene and cheerful and in a soothing mood.

Romaine said that Cyrill wasn’t with them because he had a musical invitation from the local orchestra.

It’s kind of disappointing for Rozelyn that her stepmom’s pup wasn’t with them to witness the paradise of the orchard.

Anyway, she’s happy for him—what makes Cyrill happy, makes her happy. At least, he’s spending time with music again after his departure from England. Music always calms one’s soul since the dawn of time.

“That orchard was owned by Maebh Mullin, Rosie.”

Her stepmom said while driving their navy blue Sedan.

“You mean the Kim Kardashian of Shamrock?”

Rozelyn mumbled to the woman who raised her.

“Shhh…”

Rozelyn just rolled her eyes and looked outside the car window. Outside, it began to drizzle softly. The heavenly dark sky was already hovering above them; still adorned with millions of twinkling stars.

“She’s a billionaire and a hardworking woman. Though, I admit that she’s quite a ‘tyrant’ when speaking and acting. However, I still commend her status of being a self-made elite,” Romaine reasoned in a lengthy manner.

The car suddenly halted in the middle of the road, with only the car’s light illuminating the pathway.

Rozelyn frowned and abruptly switched her head to her stepmom.

“Why the hell did you stop?”

Before realization entered her mind, she was already gaping.

There, in the middle, is a creature feasting on the innards of a lifeless stag.

Its golden eyes switched its gaze to them and Rozelyn immediately recognized the identity of the werewolf.

***

Their dinner was tremendously quiet…again.

Their simple dining resembles a silent graveyard in the midst of a winter night. It looks vaguely awkward for the three of them who’s gonna break the quietude. Amusingly, it looks like they’re playing a silent game and the winner is the one who can stand to tame their tongue for the entire meal.

The waxing moon shines brightly in the gazebo. As soon as they finished eating, Romaine went outside their house—a signal for the two of them to trail behind.

Their dinner was supposed to be delicious. However, because of the cringy ambience flooding their kitchen dining, they were forced to dine unhappily and somewhat in a sullen manner.

“I guess I’ll be the spokesperson tonight,” Romaine flatly said while leaning her head in one of the pillars of the gazebo.

“Romaine…”

Finally, her stepmom’s pup has unfastened his mouth.

“Romaine, I guess seeing your wolfy boy here is already enough for a surprise tonight,” Rozelyn can no longer hold her tongue—her emotions. She can’t believe that she’d been loving a werewolf the entire time. Love does move in a mysterious way after all.

“Rozelyn, please. Calm yourself. You’re not the only one who’s undergoing self-actualization, all of us are!”

Romaine’s sweet but unfazed voice resonates in the backyard garden. Her stepmom’s blooming roses and expensive orchids seem to listen to their late night talk.

And the place is again engulfed into utter silence. Rozelyn seems to count how many fireflies have already passed in front of their gazebo.

Ten long minutes have passed. Quick glances and long gazes are just the ones prevalent in this so-called late night meeting. She supposed this does not count as a meeting at all since a meeting is for numerous people. There are only three of them—five if you include Jacinta and Francisco quietly strolling the outside lawn. Lucia’s already snoring in her lair—in the cupboard under the stairs.

“Most people knew that flower in the name of a Blood Rose. For Greeks, they call it Ambrosia since it has similar properties—both prolong one’s life forever. As time passed by, people interchanged the words and the vampires and werewolves just made it synonymous to each other. However, the Blood Rose is not the only one that can grant immortality,” Cyrill has finally expressed via his husky voice. His chestnut brown hair seems to reflect the beautiful light of September’s Corn Moon.

“The moonflower is the reason why I have been a huge pup since three years ago. I was in a car accident that put me in coma for almost six months. I’m an avid car racer and obsessed with car racing. I guess you’ll probably won’t remember that because you’re busy wooing and drilling Eoghan,” he explained thoroughly with an unyielding gaze and fierce tone of voice.

“The moon flower is also known as the Devil’s trumpet, Roz.” Romaine then glimpse at her two adopted individuals who were once waifs.

“It was my cousin Avril who approached me with the moonflower. He’s the alpha of the Irish Pack,” Cyrill revealed to the raven-blacked-haired woman in front of him.

“But, aren’t werewolves only have their corporeal form during full moons?” She asked curiously.

“If you’re referring to folklores and mythologies and Hollywood movies, then yes. But real life werewolves…” Cyrill then sighed heavily, perhaps also because of the frigid air.

“Real life can shift anytime, especially when they’re ravishing—which I’ve been in an hour ago,” he continued.

“But, a full moon will have a huge influence on us when it comes to hunger and emotions. We’ll literally transform from being a cute pup to being a gigantic wolf,” Cyrill added.

“The Wolf Moon is the most powerful and dangerous moon for them,” Romaine declared.

“Just as the Flower Moon to vampires,” he muttered to the two ladies in front of him.

Rozelyn felt like attending an exhibition of supernatural creatures. She never knew that vampires and werewolves have sacred moons.

“So what’s next? Go on. Perhaps you want to tell me more that we have superpowers, or we can move objects without a single touch or that we can levitate into the thin air?” Rozelyn callously uttered.

If she can just stop time, perhaps she’d gladly do it in the middle of this conversation and sip a glass of cognac for a bit of relaxation. Her migraine is greeting her again like an old friend due to these several revelations.

Honestly, she’s already perplexed if she’s hearing the right words. Or should she lessen the number of hours she spent in the attic daydreaming alone? Perhaps daydreaming has gone to bankruptcy by now due to the fact that she’s no longer accepting job offers from Mr. Daydreaming. How could she do that when her family just revealed that they’re life-siphoning beings and the other was a huge dog wrapped in fur and ornamented with fangs and claws?

Nonetheless, she’s definitely plummeting into the world of fantasy—if only it was fantasy.

The two people in front of her looked at each other and seemed to communicate telepathically—blinking their eyes and grimacing their faces as if the other disagreed with the other.

“Rozelyn, this is entirely and absolutely serious,” Romaine said in a motherly tone.

“Well…” Cyrill began to say in an unyielding manner.

“We do have superpowers…I mean abilities,” Romaine finished.

Rozelyn debated whether she’s having one of her ephemeral sweven again or was she somehow under the influence of the beverage that she was just imagining minutes ago. Either of the two, she’s still hearing unbelievable confessions and magical revelations. Perhaps, she’s gonna hear next that their triplet cats can fly across the city with their concealed wings.

“Do you really think we’ll be drinking blood endlessly without having to flourish some kind of supernatural powers?” Romaine queried her undauntedly.

She just shrugged her shoulders. Her mind and attention seems to travel far away in the sands of time—reminiscing her memories with Eoghan Evans during high school years prior to their breakup.

“I’m an Astral Vampire. Cyrill’s a Pasiphae Werewolf,” Romaine explained.

Rozelyn just seems to continue reminiscing about her and Eoghan’s first time in bed. She doesn’t want to hear the rest of the rubbish explanation about vampires and werewolves and superpowers. She’d had enough of those, ever since the times she kept rewatching the whole Twilight series.

“I want to go to bed already,” Rozelyn pleaded in a brat manner. Well, she’s honestly a brat so there’s no arguing with that anymore.

“No.”

“But Romaine…My eyelids are already shutting on their own.”

“We have more things to discuss.”

“But—”

“I said NO!”

“Fine. If you’ll not give me permission to sleep already, I’ll give myself my own permission. And I say YES!”

Then the glass windows shattered.