Hope Is Not Optional — Manuel Flores 112
Chapter 112
Selene
…
56 vouchers
I dipped the brush into the bowl of water beside me, watching the bristles darken before pressing it gently into the red paint, then brought it down onto the wide sheet of white paper laid out in front of me.
The brush glided smoothly as I stroked the line with ease, my wrist steady, my movements controlled and familiar, as if my body remembered what to do even when my mind wandered elsewhere.
I added a few more lines, shaping the form little by little, before rinsing the brush again and letting the excess water drip away. This time, I dipped it into black, layering the darker color over the red, creating contrast and depth as my eyes stayed fixed on the image taking form beneath my hand.
I was so focused that I barely noticed the room around me, my thoughts drifting instead to a pair of familiar crimson eyes that refused to leave my memory no matter how hard I tried.
The recollection made my fingers slow for just a moment before I added more detail, my brush moving almost instinctively.
From the corner of my vision, I noticed one of Yara’s women pause in her own work. She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, before setting her brush aside and standing up. Her footsteps were quiet as she approached, stopping just behind me, and when she finally leaned forward enough to see the painting clearly, she gasped. “Oh my goddess.”
The others looked up at her reaction, confused at first.
“What is it?” one of them asked, already rising to her feet. The woman only pointed at the paper, her mouth still open in disbelief.
That was enough to draw the rest of them over. One by one, they gathered around me, their beautiful bodies pressing close as they tried to get a better look, and soon the quiet room filled with soft gasps and murmurs of awe. Even Maeve, who had been standing at a respectful distance the entire time, couldn’t help herself when she finally saw the artwork, her hand lifting to her mouth as she inhaled sharply.
“This is incredible, Lady Selene,” one of them said, her voice full of admiration. “How are you able to draw this well? This is even better than the pack artist.”
I didn’t look up. I simply dipped my brush back into the water, then into white paint, letting the lighter color soften parts of the image as I continued to work.
Another voice chimed in, still astonished. “It’s like you’ve been painting for your entire life.”
If only they knew that I had been painting for many years, many lifetimes, to be exact.
In my past lives, I was a Luna, and it was expected of a Luna to excel in many things. Painting, embroidery, music, and cooking, these skills had been drilled into me until they became second nature. This was nothing new to me, even if it was new to them.
One of the women leaned closer, squinting slightly at the unfinished painting.
…
11:07 Wed, Jan 21 d.
Chapter 112
“Wait,” she said slowly, “is it just me, or does the person in this painting look familiar?”
A
191
55 vouchers
Another woman lightly bumped her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious?” she replied with a grin. “Look at the eyes. That alone gives it away. It’s Alpha Damien.”
She turned to me then, smiling knowingly. “Lady Selene must be very much in love with the alpha to paint him like this. Right, Lady Selene?”
A different woman laughed softly, clasping her hands together. “Aww, Lady Selene. That’s so cute. You’re painting your beloved.”
I didn’t say anything to them, but I couldn’t help thinking about how completely wrong they were. Their judgment couldn’t have been farther from my true intentions.
Yes, I was painting Alpha Damien, and yes, the resemblance was there, but it had nothing to do with love or affection or him being some beloved figure in my heart. I wasn’t that foolish, and I certainly wasn’t naive enough to draw the Demon of the West for something as shallow as romance.
I was painting him because it was the only thing stopping me from snapping.
If I could capture him perfectly, every sharp line, every cold expression, every infuriating detail, then I could tear the paper apart afterward, rip it to shreds as if I were tearing into him instead.
It wouldn’t harm him physically, but at least it would drain some of the anger burning in my chest, because I was angry, far angrier than I had been in a long time.
That man was testing my patience in ways very few ever had. He had kept me in this place for days, refused to meet me even once, and ignored every single message I sent requesting an audience, as if I didn’t exist at all.
It felt deliberate, like he was doing it on purpose, and that only made it worse.
Now I had been confined to this room for an entire week.
Even though Yara’s women visited often and tried to keep me company, even though they talked and laughed and filled the space with noise, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t someone meant to be caged, dressed up, and tucked away out of sight. I had things to do, people to deal with, lives to ruin, and being forced to sit still while others made decisions around me was driving me insane.
My fingers tightened slowly around the brush, my grip firm.
I was not a princess to be locked in a tower. I was getting out of here, no matter the cost.
I set the brush down at last and leaned back slightly, studying the painting before me as if seeing it for the first time.
“What do you think?” I asked calmly, my tone casual. “It’s not complete yet, but does it look a lot like your Alpha?”
The women, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind my composed expression, nodded eagerly.
“Yes,” one of them said without hesitation. “It really does. It looks just like him.”
…
11:07 Wed, Jan 21 ..
Chapter 112
:
Another smiled brightly. “Alpha Damien would be very happy if you gave this to him.”
%em)
E55 vouchers
I didn’t respond. Instead, my lips curved into a faint, mischievous smile as my mind began to race, already planning how quickly I could finish the painting, and how satisfying it would feel to destroy it afterward.
Just then, one of the women reached forward as if to touch the artwork, but something clattered softly to the floor before she could. A dagger had slipped from her side, landing near my feet. I glanced down and noticed immediately that it was damaged, the blade fractured as if it had been snapped in half.
I raised an eyebrow, curious.
“Oh,” she said quickly, following my gaze. “I broke it during training. I should throw it away, but I’ve already gotten used to it. I just can’t part with it.” She laughed a little, almost embarrassed. “I know it sounds strange.”
I bent down and picked the dagger up, carefully running my fingers along the worn edge. It didn’t take much to see that the weapon had been through countless battles, repaired and reused far beyond what most people would consider reasonable.
“No,” I said quietly, almost absentmindedly, “it doesn’t sound strange at all. A warrior’s heart is their weapon, and it’s never easy to part with one’s heart.”
The room fell silent.
When I looked up, all of them were staring at me, their expressions caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief, as if they hadn’t expected words like that to come from me.
One of the women finally spoke. “You sound… like a warrior yourself, lady Selene.”
I met her gaze for a moment, then shrugged lightly, as if it meant nothing. “Who knows,” I replied, handing the dagger back to its owner. “Are you getting another one?”
She nodded, gripping the weapon firmly. “Yes. I plan to win a new dagger.”
“Win one?” I echoed. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”
Her eyes
lit up. “Today is the Crimson Warrior Rite” she said.
I frowned slightly. “Crimson Warrior Rite?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes. It’s when warriors from all over the pack gather to fight. The winner earns weaponry of their choosing.”
At that, interest sparked instantly, my earlier irritation momentarily forgotten as a far more dangerous curiosity took its place.
11:07 Wed, Jan 21 d
Join Our WhatsApp Channel For Fast Update Or More Novels: 
Join Our WhatsApp Channel For Fast Update Or More Novels: