My Fated Mate Can Have Her-Chapter 206: Half-Truths

Rowan

A woman emerged. Middle-aged, with the same sharp features as the old lady but softened by youth. A white powdery substance that might be flour but didn’t smell like it dusted her apron, and her sleeves were rolled up past her elbows.

She stopped short when she saw us.

"Mother." Her gaze moved from the old woman to me, then to Violet, then to the crate in my arms.

"Visitors," the old woman said briskly, extracting her arm from Violet’s hold. "From the lower levels, apparently. The young man helped me carry my things. The girl kept me from cracking my skull on the street."

The younger woman’s expression didn’t shift the way her mother’s had. No suspicion or searching looks. She simply nodded and stepped aside.

"Ma, I told you not to go out. I was coming to search for you," the woman grumbled, a small frown directed at her mother.

From somewhere inside the house, the sound of children’s laughter erupted, followed by a crash and a shriek.

The daughter glanced at us and closed her eyes briefly.

"Ignore that," she said flatly. "They’re feral today."

She turned and walked inside, leaving the door open behind her.

The old woman gestured impatiently at me. "Well? Bring it in. Kitchen’s through the back."

[ - ]

The rooms inside were oddly spacious and larger than what one would have envisioned just from looking outside the house.

The old lady had insisted we join them for dinner, which was already set... though I had no idea how they could tell the hour of the day without the sky.

We sat on cushioned pillows arranged around a wide mat, plates and trays of food spread out between us. The children had already descended on their portions like wolves starving for days, their small hands grabbing at strange meat and odd dishes I did not think I had ever come across on the surface.

The daughter, Cery, half-heartedly reminded them of their manners.

The old woman Aris, sat at the head of the mat, watching us with sharp eyes even as she ate.

While the food tasted a bit strange, it was good. I had to monitor what I was eating. My portion was alright for normal standards but I usually ate more than this, especially after intervals of not eating a lot.

I didn’t want to impose, and it wasn’t like I could go out to hunt for wild game.

Violet sat beside me, eating quietly. Her eyes, just like mine had done earlier, drifted around the room, taking in details.

I was honestly a bit still hung up on how she looked earlier while escorting Aris.

"So," Aris said between bites, her gaze fixed on me. "The lower levels. Which section?"

I knew this was coming.

I needed to say something that wouldn’t give us away, and I hoped I wouldn’t be wrong.

They had to talk more so I could get information.

"Near the deeper tunnels," I answered, hoping it was enough. There were surely tunnels here and wolves also living there.

The old woman and her daughter paused mid-bite, disturbed looks on their faces and I immediately wondered if I had said something wrong.

"Rogues mostly live there. The tunnels both here and below are pretty rowdy." Cery glanced between Violet and I, slight distrust seeping into her features. "Criminals are mostly confined there."

Violet’s eyes widened.

I sat up, raising my hands. "No. Not at all. We were born—"

"Cery," Aris spoke up, continuing to eat her food. "You may not have met him, but your grandfather was born there. Not every wolf there are criminals." She paused and looked squarely at me. "Though they are a rowdy bunch, and you both look strong enough to have lived through the chaos of that space."

Cery visibly relaxed. "True... I don’t see the markings."

"Thank you," I said weakly.

I wasn’t entirely sure why I did that but it was needed. To think I nearly branded us as criminals. That attention would not have been good.

Aris made a sound in her throat. Not quite disapproval, but close. "Loud idiots down there. Always fighting over something or other. Too much noise for my taste." She tore off a piece of bread. "You two don’t seem the type. Especially you." She eyed Violet.

Violet offered a small smile. "We keep to ourselves mostly..."

"Mmm." Her eyes moved to our bags, still battered and torn, sitting against the wall. "And what happened to your things? You look like you crawled through a collapse."

Violet’s hands stilled briefly on her cup.

I let out a breath, not allowing this opportunity to pass. "We were robbed. A few days back. They took almost everything. Our money and a lot of our provisions too. We only managed to reclaim this bit before getting away."

At least this way, it wouldn’t seem like we were asking her for money or anything.

As crazy as it was, the gravejaw attack seemed to have ironically helped a bit. And thankfully, the bags we had been given were strong enough to have survived the trampling.

Cery looked up from wrestling a piece of bread away from the toddler.

Aris studied me for a long moment. One of the children burped loudly and was immediately smacked on the arm by an older sibling.

"At least you were able to make away with some of your things," Cery said, handing the bread to one of the other children while frowning at the toddler.

"Yes, we’re lucky in that regard," Violet spoke up. "We would like to ask what sort of work could we do up here? Enough to get back on our feet."

I paused and looked at Violet fully. I was surprised. Hadn’t expected her to ask what I was just about to.

"We have never been up to these levels before, so we are not familiar with how things work here," she added softly. "I grew up... sheltered."

Lies mixed with elements of truth. Perhaps that was what made it more convincing.

We both knew nothing about this place, and she had especially grown up sheltered too.

"Ah... I see," Aris mumbled, taking a sip of water from her cup.

"Work," Cery echoed. "What kind? And what skills do you have?"