The Life of an Author

When she reached the bar, she spoke to the attendant, “Sage mint tea, no milk or sugar, please, sorry, I know it’s not what you’d usually get asked for, it’s just I don’t drink, and I have an early start tomorrow. The life of an author.”

The bartender nodded with a smile. “Not a problem at all. One sage mint tea coming right up.”

Otto watched as Nora drummed her fingers lightly against the polished wood of the bar, her gaze fixed on some distant point across the room. This was his chance. He pushed away from the wall where he’d been waiting and made his way over, heart hammering against his ribs.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, sliding onto the barstool beside her.

Nora turned, her amber eyes meeting his with a cool assessment that made him feel transparent. “Free country,” she replied, accepting her steaming tea from the bartender with a quiet thank you.

Otto ordered another whiskey, more to give himself something to do with his hands than because he wanted it. The silence between them stretched, taut with unspoken words.

“Congratulations on your success,” he finally said. “Your books are... everywhere.”

“Thank you.” She blew gently across the surface of her tea, the fragrant steam rising between them like a barrier. “Though I suspect you haven’t read any of them.”

“I’m starting one tonight,” Otto said, patting his jacket where her book rested against his heart. “I’m curious about this tale of redemption.”

Something flickered across her face, surprise, perhaps, or wariness. She took a careful sip of her tea before responding.

“Fiction often explores themes we struggle with in real life,” she said, her voice measured. “Redemption. Forgiveness. Second chances.”

Otto leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. “Is that what your book is about? Second chances?”

“Among other things.” Nora shifted on her stool, angling her body away from him ever so slightly. “But I’d rather not give spoilers.”

The distance she placed between them felt like a physical ache. Otto’s fingers tightened around his glass.

“You’ve changed,” he said.

A small, humourless smile curved her lips. “Everyone changes in five years, Otto. That’s how time works.”

“But you’re still you,” he persisted. “I can tell.”

Nora’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Can you? Because the boy I knew in high school couldn’t see past his own reflection.”

The barb stung, but Otto knew he deserved it. He took a deep breath, the scent of her, vanilla and moonflowers, filling his senses again.

“I deserve that,” he admitted. “I was awful to you back then.”

“You were.” She traced the rim of her teacup with one finger. “But as I said, people change. I have. Maybe you have too.”

Otto felt a surge of hope at her words. “I’ve been trying to. For years now.”

Nora turned to face him fully then, studying him with those penetrating amber eyes. “Why? Why would the great Otto Forest, Alpha Heir to Silver Ridge, spend years trying to reach out to the nobody nerd of the school?”

“I…I tried to follow you after the presentation and ask you out, but you disappeared and never answered my letters. I felt hollow. I couldn’t put the truth I wanted to tell you in person, but you never answered.”

Nora’s eyes widened slightly, the teacup freezing halfway to her lips. For a moment, she looked genuinely surprised, as though this revelation had caught her off guard.

“You wanted to ask me out?” The question came out softer than her previous statements, tinged with disbelief.

Otto nodded, his throat suddenly dry. He took a sip of whiskey to steady himself. “I realised how terribly I’d treated you. That last project, when I left you to do all the work, I was dealing with pack issues, but that’s no excuse. I watched you at graduation, how you held yourself with such quiet dignity despite everything, and something just... clicked.”

Nora set her cup down carefully, the porcelain making a gentle clink against the saucer. “Yet you continued to hang out with friends who mocked me. Friends who are here tonight are making the same jokes they did five years ago.”

“I know,” Otto admitted, shame washing over him. “I’ve been trying to break away from that. It’s not easy when you’ve known people your whole life, but that’s not who I want to be anymore.”

A sceptical look crossed her face as she glanced toward Luke and the others, who kept shooting curious glances their way. “Actions speak louder than words, Otto.”

“Like this?” Otto carefully rolled up his sleeve, revealing the silver lotus tattoo on his forearm. The same design she had stamped in her books. The same flower she used to draw in her notebooks.

Her fingers twitched as though she wanted to reach out and touch it. Instead, she curled them around her teacup again. “When did you get that?”

“Two years after graduation. After I couldn’t find you.” Otto traced the outline of the tattoo with his finger. “You told me once it was to show the Goddess that you had learned her teachings. I got it to remind myself of the person I wanted to become.”

Nora was quiet for a long moment, studying his face as though searching for deception. The ambient noise of the reunion faded around them, creating a bubble of tense silence.

“I never received your letters,” she finally said, her voice barely audible over the music. “My father must have intercepted them.”

Otto’s heart sank. All those words, all those apologies, never read. “But you said earlier that you had read them.”

“I lied,” Nora admitted, a flash of guilt crossing her features. “I didn’t want you to know that I had no idea you were trying to reach me. It was easier to let you think I’d ignored you deliberately.”

Otto leaned forward, close enough that he could see the gold flecks in her amber eyes. “What else don’t I know, Nora? Are you Lady Stirling of the Moonlit Falls pack?”

The colour drained from her face. Her fingers tightened around the teacup so hard he feared it might crack. “How did you—“