The Twelfth Moon || ✔️

39. Rolling Tongues

I hastily chewed my food before I answered, "Oh, men aren't really on my mind right now."

Chiya playfully raised her eyebrow, as did Lotta. "So it's men you're into. Is it true what they say about Fire Moon males?"

I nearly spat out the next bite I'd started eating. I had to cough a few times before I was able to answer. "I wouldn't know. I haven't slept with any of them."

Chiya, and a few others, raised their eyebrows once again, in disbelief this time. "Wasn't there anyone in your town that piqued your interest?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "The baker's son, for a while. But he was human, so no warming abilities the Fire Moon males are so well known for." I didn't want to go into all the other reasons why I'd never bed any of the Fire Moon wolves. I even praised myself lucky that none of them had ever forced themselves on me. But with Beckett's disgusted eye watching over me at all times, not many dared to do such intimate things with me, and risk baring a child. Their genes could not be mixed with mine, because that would make them fall in the disgrace of Beckett.

Yet again, I found the irony in how Beckett's hatred towards me had saved me from certain horrors. "Oh, I see. And how was it?" Lotta asked.

"Sufficient," I decided. I didn't have anything else to compare it with, but it lacked the passion every teenage girl dreamed of finding.

Lotta and Chiya erupted in laughter at my dry description, somehow finding it funnier than I'd ever think of it. But their enjoyment was infectious, and I soon found myself laughing along.

I'd been so consumed with the laughter from around me, I hadn't noticed when Aven's had stopped.

Not until he suddenly slammed his cup on the table, spilling some of its contents on the sides. The loud thud that came along, silenced the room. It was as if this had happened before, and everyone knew not to speak anymore, to not irritate their clearly agitated Alpha.

"I am getting bored to death from the bullshit you're spewing," Aven growled. "And that's saying something, given I'm the Alpha of Death Moon."

His silver eyes were on fire, flaming with a fury that could scare an enemy into oblivion. The room followed his gaze, everyone thanking our Moons it was not directed at them.

I did the same. I traced his stare, which wasn't nearly directed at me, all the way to a back corner of the room. Towards a wolf I recognized.

He was talking to one of the wolves I'd seen in The Puny Bell.

The wolf simply laid down his fork, the clinging sound echoing in the new, deadly silence.

"Well," Aven urged. "You don't seem so talkative now. Have you lost your tongue?"

I looked over to Jerr, and noticed he had shoved his seat backwards a little bit, readying for a sudden need to get up and run. His stare was intently focused on the wolf in the back, too.

Jerr wasn't prepared to run from anything or anyone. He was prepared to run to, or after someone.

But even though his body was on edge, readying for any sudden escape from the wolf, his face showed nothing but lazy ease. His ruffled hair lay a bit wild, like he'd been busy the entire day and hadn't had the time to fix it. But it still looked neat somehow, and the brown color melted in the sun-kissed tone of his skin. His piercing green eyes stood out, as usual, but the fierceness behind them didn't match the composure of the rest of his face. His lips lay relaxed, only the smallest curve to the side could be detected. His forehead was clear, no dark lines shadowing some frowns.

He was enjoying this. His eyes gave it away.

"My apologies, Aven," the wolf began.

"Alpha," Aven interrupted him.

This correction caused the wolf his eyes to widen, just the tiniest bit. He was in more trouble than he'd initially realized.

"My apologies, Alpha," he corrected himself. "But I must admit that I do not know what you are referring to."

Aven tilted his head to the right. "The bullshit part or the tongue you lost? The latter can easily be rectified, should you need it."

The wolf gulped, but tried his very best to hide it. "The bullshit part. I'm afraid I'm not aware of what talk you're referring to."

Aven slowly slid his chair back, the friction on the floor causing a suspenseful sound. In that same intimidating slowness, he got up from his chair, as he continued speaking. "Basically anything you say, to be honest."

"What are you saying Av-, Alpha," the wolf sputtered. "I'm truly not aware of doing anything wrong."

"Of course you're not," Aven laughed, as he dangerously walked over to the wolf.

The wolf hastily looked to the sides, probably searching for an escape. But he only saw that Jerr and Feytan had also left their chairs, and were now blocking his ways out.

He was stuck.

"Now, Ammon. Do tell the rest of this room what you were just talking about." A menacious smile danced around Aven's lips, the danger in his face becoming greater with every step he took in the wolf's direction.

Everyone in the room was intently following what was happening. Lotta as well, and she didn't look as misplaced as the night that guard got executed.

"I'm not-" the wolf pleaded. "I didn't do anything wrong, Alpha."

"There. Just now. You just lied to your Alpha."

"I-, I'm sorry?"

"Don't play dumb," Aven continued. "You've been irritating me for quite a while, now. Shouldn't you agree that is enough reason for me to take care of that rolling tongue of yours? I am your Alpha, after all."

"You are," the wolf confirmed. "But I surely didn't mean to irritate you, Alpha."

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't mean to. Alas, you did. But luckily, there's an easy solution for that."

Aven finally reached the table where the wolf was seated, and was now standing right in front of him.

"There, there is?"

Aven nodded. "Yes."

And then his one hand gripped the wolf by the throat, as his other hand reached in his mouth.

The wolf made a gurgling sound, his eyes going wide. His body was protesting, squirming in all the ways possible to get out of Aven's grip.

But Aven was just too strong.

Aven removed his hand from the wolf's mouth, holding a long, pink, flesh looking thing.

He'd ripped out his tongue.

I looked away in disgust as Aven threw the tongue on the table in front of the wolf.

The wolf fell down in his chair, tears streaming down his cheeks as his hands grasped at his throat, his mouth.

But only blood came out. And choked sounds. But no words.

No words would ever come out again.