Curves And Claws: The Lycan King's Relentless Claim novel Chapter 96

**Fireflies in Winter Rain — Neil A. Varma**

**Chapter 96**

Roana,

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As I stepped out of the penthouse overlooking the frozen expanse of the lake, a faint ache nestled within my heart, echoing like a soft, persistent rhythm. I had no idea that such a breathtaking property existed here. The sharpness of the cold air wrapped around me, causing my chest to tighten momentarily; I inhaled sharply, feeling the chill seep through my skin.

With each step I took towards the café, which was a short distance from the penthouse, my pace slowed involuntarily. My eyes drank in the scenery, and my fingers found their way to my coat pocket, a familiar habit that provided a small sense of comfort.

The scene before me was a tapestry of life. Families strolled leisurely, pups frolicked joyfully in the park, and couples shared tender moments. Yet, amidst this picturesque setting, my gaze was drawn to a commotion in the distance. A woman slapped a man sharply across the face, while another woman rushed to defend him. My brows knitted together in curiosity at the unfolding drama.

A chuckle escaped my lips involuntarily. A cheating scandal, perhaps? It was painful, yet such betrayals seemed to be a universal ailment, cropping up in every corner of existence. I sighed softly, the weight of the world pressing down on me as I continued my walk.

In that moment, I realized the essence of our lives—pain, heartbreak, betrayal, dilemmas, and the haunting uncertainty of the future. Our fleeting happiness was akin to the elusive Queen of the Night or the delicate dew drops of winter, always slipping away just as we reached for it. A lump formed in my throat at that thought, a reminder of the fragility of joy.

Yet, we relentlessly pursue happiness, chasing after it with a fervor that is both beautiful and tragic. We endure heartache, stumble, shed tears, and sometimes, we give up. But inevitably, we rise again, sprinting toward another fleeting moment of existence. My hands curled slightly, recalling the scars of past wounds.

As I stood before the small café mentioned in the note, “Morning Glory Café,” I felt a flutter of emotions. The name itself evoked the image of a flower that blooms only briefly. I surveyed the area, noting the absence of any patrons. A chill ran down my spine, an unsettling feeling creeping in.

Pushing the door open, I glanced around, but the café was eerily empty. I chose a cozy corner seat, pulling out my phone to scroll through my social media feed. My foot tapped lightly under the table, a nervous habit as I waited, feeling the anticipation build in the silence.

I had no numbers, no means to identify anyone. But did it really matter? I wasn’t desperate, after all. I exhaled softly, leaning back in the chair, allowing myself a moment of calm.

As I immersed myself in videos, my attention sharpened when the café suddenly plunged into darkness. My head snapped up, confusion flooding my mind. A blackout? The outside light should have illuminated the interior, yet it felt as if the world had been swallowed whole. My pulse quickened, a sense of unease washing over me.

Just as I attempted to stand, Rye’s voice broke through the tension, “I heard footsteps coming toward us!”

My heart raced as I focused on the faint sounds of multiple footsteps approaching. My shoulders tensed instinctively, and just as Rye prepared to confront whatever was looming in the shadows, the lights flickered back on. A group of people stood before me, their faces illuminated by wide, beaming smiles.

“Happy Birthday, Roana!” they chorused in unison.

My heart leaped into my throat, and I flinched at the unexpected greeting. They called my name with an intimacy that felt almost familial. But what caught me off guard was the sight of them—five figures, all strikingly different from anyone I had ever seen.

They were ethereal, their skin pale as moonlight, eyes a mesmerizing hazel green akin to emeralds glistening in the sun. Their hair was a light brown, cascading beautifully around their shoulders. I blinked in disbelief, struggling to process the surreal scene.

What struck me most was their towering stature; they were giants, each standing around seven feet tall, their bodies robust yet stunningly graceful. My gaze instinctively traveled upward, taking in their impressive heights.

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