Chapter 1255
Chapter 1255:
Makenna’s POV:
I hurriedly tugged Clayton toward the villa that sheltered the hybrid children, our footsteps soft against the night’s embrace.
Bathed in moonlight, the white building stood serene, its silence broken only by the gentle glow spilling from a few windows.
As we eased the door open, a cozy scene greeted us: children clustered around the crackling fireplace, their noses buried in books, lost in worlds of their own. Our arrival stirred them, and they scrambled to their feet, their youthful faces a blend of shy excitement and eager curiosity.
I crouched to meet their wide-eyed gazes, my voice soft as I shared our mission.
“A disguise potion?” A little girl with pigtails hesitated, her voice a faint whisper. “Mr. Armstrong showed us how, but we’ve yet to get it right.” Her words doused my hopes like a cold wave.
I mustered a smile, though my fingers clung tightly to the edge of my dress, betraying my disappointment.
Clayton stood steadfast behind me, his warm hand settling on my shoulder, a quiet anchor in the storm of my thoughts.
Just then, a slight figure emerged from the shadows—a boy, perhaps ten, with tousled light brown curls and amber eyes that gleamed like embers in the candlelight.
“I can try,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Mr. Armstrong said my potion might not last long, but it works well enough.”
My heart lifted, and I stepped toward him, hope rekindled. “Really? What’s your name?”
“Karel Norris,” he replied, ducking his head shyly, his fingers twisting the hem of his shirt. “Thank you for giving us a home… I want to help.”
His earnestness wrapped around my heart like a warm blanket.
R3ad th3 l4t3st 0n g4ln0v3ls.c0m
I reached out, ruffling his soft curls with a tender smile. “Thank you, Karel.”
We whisked Karel to the laboratory, where he seemed to shed his timid shell. His nimble fingers danced over the tools with a grace that left us spellbound, each movement precise and purposeful.
Clayton and I lingered quietly, marveling as Karel worked his magic at the bench.
The liquid in the test tube swirled through a kaleidoscope of colors—soft blue, deep purple, and finally a radiant amber that sparkled like starlight.
Three hours later, Karel stood tall, brushing sweat from his brow. “It’s finished!” he announced, his voice bright with pride.
He pressed the potion into my hand, his expression tinged with apology. “There’s a catch—it only lasts an hour.”
I cradled the cool glass vial, my smile brimming with gratitude. “It’s more than enough, Karel. Thank you.”
As we left the lab, exhaustion tugged at me, and I stifled a yawn, eager for the comfort of my room. To my surprise, Clayton trailed close behind.
At my door, I turned, puzzled. “You…”
Before I could finish, his fingers brushed the back of my hand, warm and steady. “Tomorrow, you’ll face the werewolf mountains,” he murmured. “Are you nervous?”
My heart swelled, and I melted into his embrace, his faint woodsy scent wrapping around me like a soothing lullaby, easing every worry.
.
.
.