Skinned

¤ The Risk of it All ¤

For them, the Goddess was the second best option, only because everyone thought that She was the bridge to overcoming the inevitable; death.

Maliha's smile didn't falter from my dismissive reply and took her seat in front of me with a cup of tea in her hand, the strong smell of it infiltrating my senses as I fought the urge to gag.

"I knew you were coming, I could smell the all too familiar scent of decay that just seems to seep through your skin these days," Maliha told me, and the tone of her voice held a feigned sweetness to it.

This bitch.

"Your wolf is dying, Valerie," she shot me a look, her eyes holding a colder emotion to it as I stayed calmly glued to my seat. "Tell me, how many more shots can you take before you completely deteriorate with that wolf?"

"You think I'd make an effort to answer questions that came right out of that mouth?" I raised an eyebrow and leaned back on my chair.

Really, I didn't want to answer them. Because I knew that everything that came out of her mouth were all the truth that I never bothered to acknowlege.

Again, I had to remind myself that these were the things I had to face for the sake of keeping my plans intact with Heath.

The female let out a soft laugh in response as if she could sense my insecurities, and I couldn't do anything about it anymore.

No wolf.

No claws.

No threat.

Without my wild, I was nothing but a woman within a pack of werewolves. Even the basic form of attack could lead to my defeat.

"Very well," Maliha trailed off and took a sip of her tea, "why make such a desperate call by approaching me?"

I gritted my teeth, hands gripping hard on the arms of my seat as I tried to count away my rage; she was incessantly testing the limits of my composure.

How many more could I take before I snap?

I glided my tongue across my lips and began to collect my words. "The flowers, Maliha. It's for an operation, I want the wolf sated for a juvenile's recovery."

Her eyes narrowed with my request as she put them into consideration, fingernails tapping on the porcelain cup while I waited for her reply. She held her silence for a few moments as if she was reading into my composed features.

I expected her to go against me, to question me further on my odd request, but I was completely surprised when she stood up from her seat, walked over to the shelves full of jars, and grabbed the specific container that held the velvety petals of a flower that Heath had always longed for.

"I can only pray to the Moon that you start making the right choices, Valerie," she said and handed me the jar.

That was the last straw to my patience.

It had annoyed me how Maliha had managed speak against me so easily, to voice her ill judgement without having to pay for it; she thought she could finally face me without any form of respect for who I was, and it was pitiful.

"Pray as you will, Healer," I said with my tone dripping with heavy malice, "but don't involve me in any of it, because I could care less about the guidance of a mere satellite."

Even if I had silenced my own wild, no one could fight against that fact that I was born with a blood designed to rule. I shared the crown of my wolf, meaning that I carried the residue of the strength of my purpose.

It was not enough, but it was helpful enough to help me make a point.

With my jaw set tight, I let my height easily loom over her petite frame. My silenced wrath radiated off of me, silthering up to her unyeilding posture, as I kept my eyes down at who she was.