Tasting

413–Have Some Drinks

Nora:

Silas watched his brother in silence, and I did too. Cain casually slipped his hands into his pockets once again, but instead of walking toward the door, he strolled straight toward me.

“Don’t tire yourself too much. Rest when you need it,” he said, making me frown until he did the unthinkable. He bent over and placed his lips on my cheek.

I swear I stopped breathing in that moment. His warmth enveloped me, causing my heart to pound louder. It wasn’t just a peck; he lingered, giving me soft kisses, and I stupidly stayed still.

Then he stepped back and sighed as if he had taken some drugs. “Ahhh! Night, love.”

I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but that jerk looked so pleased with himself as he walked toward the exit.

He dramatically held the door and did a full spin while closing it, winking at me right before he left.

Now it was just Silas and me, both of us filled with questions in our eyes.

“What was that? Why did—he–” Before Silas could continue questioning me, I raised my palm to stop him.

“I’ve been intimate with him in the past. Do you not remember? As for what he just did, I’m not sure what kind of drugs your brother takes, but they shock me as well,” I tried to sound casual and unconcerned, but the hair on the back of my neck was still standing.

I was beginning to acknowledge something very pertinent even now.

“Anyway, I was thinking about something,” I didn’t sit down because I didn’t think we could find any answers in my room.

“We should use your library to do the proper research,” I suggested. He seemed lost, but he nodded slightly.

“Okay.” I could tell he wasn’t very happy with the idea of his brother kissing my cheek.

He held the door open, and I walked past him, watching Cain’s studio door close. My body twitched, but we quickly rushed upstairs to discuss this problem.

“The issue is that Daphne is not the one creating all this on purpose. I feel like she doesn’t even know she’s doing it,” I said, taking steady breaths and wondering what was happening.

We reached his library and started the research right away. I didn’t want to waste any more time. She was not getting happier, so the minute she woke up, more people would become victims of her sadness.

“What is this?” I asked Silas, showing him a report of cases from months ago.

“There were some cases in Brody’s pack as well,” he said. I didn’t know about that.

“I thought it was just restricted to–”

“Remember you just said that you think Daphne is emptying this on purpose?” Silas asked, and once I nodded, he continued.

“Are you sure?” However, Silas confused me a little.

“Because I was thinking about it, and I realized one more issue regarding her and the Weeping Guardians‘ case. Remember when I came to Brody’s pack? Although I didn’t go there for that reason, I later discovered that someone had become a victim of the Weeping Guardians, and guess what? It was around the same time Daphne had come there,” he said, watching him intently.

“But where does this prove that she is doing this on purpose?” I observed him grab the file out of my hand and then place it back on the table.

“Those days, we were going into lockdown, and the guards were supposed to stand in front of every house. It seems like she came to Brody’s place because she somehow knew if she remained in one spot, the guards would talk about the Weeping Guardians emerging from her mansion.” It was as if he had given me the biggest shock.

I won’t lie; even my skin had formed goosebumps.

“She might not want to do it, but she might know that she is the cause behind it,” Silas was impressively astute. He had caught all that in just a few minutes.

“But why–? The question remains the same: why? Why is she able to control such creatures?” I looked around for any books that could explain the whole Weeping Guardian phenomenon.

“Who is Daphne’s father? I mean, her biological father, not that jerk,” I needed to know more about her background, and only then could I figure out more about the Weeping Guardians.

However, suddenly Silas was distracted; his eyes were on his phone as he received some texts.

“Umm, I’ll be back in a minute,” he didn’t even look at me and rushed out.

I lingered around, checking out books and articles on Weeping Guardians when he returned again.

This time, he was carrying two glasses of mango mocktails.

“Here,” he offered me one, making me raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“I thought we needed energy to work better,” he pouted, making me stare at the drinks and then back at him.