CHAPTER FIVE
Ever since she was a young girl, Natasha had always prided herself on her memory. She had bragged to everyone that would listen, which mostly included her mum and an old lady who gave her chocolate, that she could walk through anywhere blindfolded, and still remember the way. Over the years, that very skill had proven useful time and time again, in frequent occasions where she would have but a few seconds to glance at a map before figuring out her way. Now though, for the first time in a long while, Natasha was truly lost.
She had tried retracing her steps from last night, but that had only made it worse, and she had just taken to walking aimlessly around the house, hoping to find Ashier, or anyone else for that matter, or did he live alone?
Natasha walked forward, but this time actually admiring the mansion around her. It was larger than she first thought, with a seemingly endless number of rooms, which she couldn't even begin to guess their purpose, as their doors were all locked. Natasha walked, hearing only the soft sound of her footfalls on the ground, and very soon, she found herself back at the door of her rooms.
At this point, Natasha felt like screaming her lungs out, and she almost did, if not for the figure standing in front of her door. It was a woman, in her twenties? Thirties? Natasha wasn't sure, and didn't care. What mattered was that she was just stepping out of Natasha's room.
Natasha moved like a viper, closing the distance between the two of them in seconds. She grabbed the woman's hand and pinned her to the wall in one smooth motion, causing a groan from the lady, the woman didn't even have time to blink before she was restrained.
"Who are you? And what do you want in my room?" Natasha asked, her voice fierce and authoritative.
"I'... I'm just a butler, Master Ashier asked me to check on you." She stammered out, and Natasha felt foolish, of course he would send someone to check on her, she was probably the same woman that disposed of her old clothes.
"Of course," Natasha said, letting go of the woman immediately. Why would she do that? Did she think he would send someone to kill her? "Lead the way." she requested. The woman moved shakily, as if still in shock. She nodded, as if not trusting herself to speak and for the first time in a long while, Natasha felt a small pang of guilt.
Natasha had to hand it to the woman, after a few moments, the woman had already composed herself, striding confidently, like she was the mistress, but there was something else too, her entire bearing had changed, her posture, the way she moved, flowing from one step to another, could she be a.....
"We're here," the woman said, interrupting Natasha's train of thoughts, That was short, I must've walked at least twice that, Natasha thought. Without waiting for a response, she walked up to a strong wooden door, looking around, Natasha found that this part of the building was older, and somehow, richer. The walls here looked as if they were hewn from a single piece of stone, though Natasha had no idea how that could be done, even with werewolves.
Natasha's train of thoughts were interrupted by three short knocks on the door by the woman. Very soon, she found herself staring at one painting in particular. It was old, evidently, and it seemed to be an original oil painting.
It depicted five werewolves, their golden eyes seemed to be staring directly at her. They wore chain mail armour, and stood together in a semicircle, shoulder to shoulder. Any werewolf could recognize them anywhere, these were the founders of the werewolf clans. They were brothers-in-arms, but one day, no one knows why, they had a falling out.
"Mistress Natasha," the butler said, holding the door open for her, and gesturing for her to enter. Natasha realized she detected a faint accent in her voice, but she couldn't place it, it was like a mixture of many places, but with one at its core. Natasha shook her head slightly, causing her brown hair to wiggle, her accent did not matter.
Natasha nodded, and then entered the room. It was a dining room, and she was almost physically hit by the barrage of savors coming from the table making, her mouth water, thankfully, there was meat, an entire pig by the looks of it, as well as some other side dishes.
The door closed behind her, and Natasha forcefully tore her eyes from the food table. Seated at the table was Ashier, looking good, though she would never say it to his face, in a white shirt, his sleeves rolled up to expose his strong forearms, and golden brown trousers that matched his eyes. His hair was unruly, in a pretty kinda way, like he just got up from bed and couldn't be bothered combing it, because it already looked hot enough. He was also barefoot.
The only other person in the room was evidently a werewolf, by his fierce golden eyes that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. He was in his twenties, and he exhibited a confidence that was quite unlike that of Ashier, while Ashier's confidence was bold and bright, like the sun, his was akin to a river's undercurrent, unseen but powerful, shaping the world around him.
He was tall, though still sitted, he was around the same height as Ashier. He had black hair, gelled back and neatly combed, he probably had spent hours in front of the mirror to achieve that look. The black shirt he wore was plainly tailored, yet doing a lot to accentuate his broad shoulders. A silver watch glistened on his wrist, a subtle hint of elegance. Steam rose from the cup of coffee in front of him, and a scar was evident on his cheek.
Ashier was the first to notice the two girls as they entered the room, he stood up with a smile on his face, but his breath caught when he saw Natasha. "You look …..nice." He managed to stutter out.
Natasha found herself almost blushing, and forced herself to be calm, why was she like this around him? The other guy just took one look at her, uninterested, and went back to his drink. Natasha suddenly had a very strong urge to punch him.
Thankfully the butler came into the conversation, stepping forward and adjusting her white and black gown. "Master Ashier," She called.
Ashier turned to look at the butler, "Yes, Vera. I trust that all was well?"
Natasha's heart began to beat rapidly, and wondered for a second what will happen if Vera said she attacked her. Vera just nodded, "All was well, Master."
"Thank you, Vera. You may leave."
"As you wish." Vera said, bowing before leaving.
After Vera left, the both of them just stood, drinking in the sight of each other. "I see you wore the dress?" He said.
"Wasn't like I had much choice." She retorted, but there actually wasn't any venom in it.
"You know, a normal person would have said thank you by now." He said, smiling as if waiting for gratitude, he didn't know Natasha at all.
She just chortled, and almost walked past him, but he grabbed her hand, "Come on, there is someone you have to meet." He said as he pulled her along to the table.
"This is Riven, one of my most trusted allies." He said, then whispered to Natasha's ear, "He knows all about you."
"Nice to meet you," she extended her hand, trying to be nice.
He ignored it, not even looking up. "Enough of these," He said, his voice was cold. "Let's get down to business."
Ashier sighed, "Alright, but over breakfast, I'm starving."
In a short while, all three of them were seating at the table, helping themselves to servings of food and meat.
"So," Natasha said, a forkful of pork on its way to her mouth. "What's the plan?"
And Ashier opened his mouth and said...