Chapter 31: The Murderous Gaze

Chapter 31: Chapter 31: The Murderous Gaze

Azura sat on the bench outside the milk tea shop, her drink halfway to her lips, frozen in place like a statue of existential confusion.

In front of her, Caroline was slapping someone.

Not a gentle pat. Not a playful tap. A full, open-palmed, echoing SLAP that made the poor victim’s head snap to the side like a bobblehead doll.

Azura took a slow sip of her milk tea.

How did we get here?

Two hours ago, everything had been fine.

Vincent had dropped them off at the shopping district like a dad letting his kids loose at the mall, muttering something about "not causing an international incident" before speeding off to the border like he was fleeing a crime scene.

And Azura—who for the past four days in this novel’s world had only traveled between her house and the pack house in trips that lasted less than ten minutes—finally got to see what this place actually looked like.

And it was huge.

If her house wasn’t located near the massive fence that surrounded the pack territory, she never would have guessed she was living in a small city hidden in the middle of a forest. The shopping district was sprawling, filled with modern storefronts and bustling sidewalks. No skyscrapers, sure—but everything screamed "civilized small city" rather than "we live in the woods and howl at the moon."

Caroline had immediately grabbed her arm and dragged her into a clothing store like a shark that had smelled blood in the water.

But then the suspicious looks started again.

"Azura." Caroline held up a simple hoodie. "What is this."

"A hoodie."

"I know it’s a hoodie. Why are you buying a hoodie? You own exactly zero hoodies. You once said hoodies are for people who have given up on life."

Azura had laughed awkwardly—a sound so forced it could have been classified as a musical instrument.

"I want to try changing my style. After... everything that happened..."

Caroline’s face fell. The suspicion in her eyes melted into something soft and sad and full of pity.

She thought Azura was talking about Adrian. About the betrayal.

Caroline’s heart broke for her best friend all over again.

So she stopped questioning the modest dresses. The cute white sundress—something the real Azura Williams would have burned before wearing in public. The simple cardigans.

She just nodded with watery eyes and patted Azura’s shoulder like she was a wounded puppy.

After almost an hour of shopping, they finally decided they had enough trauma-spending for one day.

Azura handed Jonathan’s credit card to the cashier—because why let his wealth go to waste?—and watched as the woman swiped it.

Then she felt it.

That same sensation from two days ago. A presence in her head. Like someone tapping on the inside of her skull.

’Azura. You’re using my card to buy something?’

Jonathan’s voice. Mind link.

Her first instinct was to panic. But she’d been caught off guard by mind link once already, and she refused to look like a clueless idiot for a second time. She focused her thoughts, channeling her response like she was sending a very important text message.

’Yes. Caroline and I are shopping for clothes.’

A pause. Then a sigh—audible even through the mind link, heavy with relief.

Jonathan had been worried. So worried. His sister had changed so much, so suddenly, that he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But now? Shopping spree? Using his card like the old Azura would have?

Maybe she was coming back after all.

’Okay then. Have fun.’

The connection cut.

Azura blinked.

Did I just do that? Did I just successfully mind link?

She felt a small surge of triumph.

Azura was just about to give herself a mental gold star for successfully navigating the treacherous waters of werewolf telecommunication—a skill she had somehow acquired through sheer desperation and beginner’s luck—when Caroline snatched half her shopping bags like a bag thief with good intentions and yanked her forward.

"Come on, lunch! Our usual spot! I heard they have a new menu item called ’The Heartbreaker’s Regret’ and I NEED to know what that is!"

Caroline dragged her through the streets like a woman on a mission from God.

Lunch was... surprisingly peaceful. Caroline didn’t interrogate her like yesterday. Instead, she spoke to Azura like she was handling a priceless antique made of glass and emotional trauma. Every word was soft. Every gesture gentle. Every smile careful.

And Azura? She was grateful. She could eat her food without feeling like she was being psychologically waterboarded.

Of course, Caroline’s mission to "cheer up Azura’s broken heart" was far from over. After lunch, she dragged Azura to a milk tea shop that was apparently the hottest spot in the pack. The line was criminal. The crowd was suffocating. The only available seating was outside, like they were second-class citizens in the kingdom of boba.

But Azura didn’t complain. She was just happy boba existed in this world. Somewhere out there, a divine author had decided that fictional universes needed tapioca pearls, and for that, she was eternally grateful.

They ordered their drinks, found their sad little outdoor table, and Azura raised her cup to her lips, ready to taste sweet, sweet relief—

Then Caroline grinned.

It was not a nice grin.

It was the grin of a woman who had spotted prey.

"Look, Azura." Caroline’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "When I said I’d take you out to have fun, the fun really did come on its own."

Before Azura could ask what the hell that meant, Caroline shot up from her seat like a rocket and marched toward the entrance of the milk tea shop.

Three women were walking toward the door. The one in the middle was laughing, tossing her hair, clearly having the time of her life.

Caroline drew her hand back.

And SLAP.

The woman’s head whipped to the side so hard Azura heard something crack.

Azura’s brain short-circuited.

Her milk tea hovered halfway to her mouth. Her eyes were wide. Her soul was ascending to a higher plane of confusion.

WHAT?!

Was this a new hobby?! Was slapping random passersby just a normal Tuesday for the women of this pack?! Did the novel’s villainess and her best friend have a secret punch card—get ten slaps, get one free?! Were they collecting cheeks like Pokémon?!

She watched in stunned silence as Caroline proceeded to slap the woman multiple times, each slap punctuated by a scolding word that Azura couldn’t quite hear over the ringing in her ears. The woman’s two friends stood frozen, their faces pale, looking like they desperately wanted to intervene but were too terrified of catching the next slap.

Azura took a long, deliberate sip of her milk tea.

I’m not involved. I’m not involved. I’m a innocent bystander. I don’t know her. We’re not friends. I’m just a girl enjoying her boba.

But then her eyes caught something.

Not far from the commotion, two women had stopped walking. They were staring at the scene—one with curiosity, the other with something far darker.

Azura recognized one of them immediately. The worn-out clothes. The fragile posture. The pale beautiful face.

"....Selena?"

But it wasn’t Selena that made her freeze.

It was the woman beside her.

Dressed entirely in black. Hair dark as shadow. Eyes fixed directly on Azura with a gaze so sharp, so venomous, it felt like being pinned to a dissection table.

Their gazes met.

For the first time since she woke up in this world, Azura felt genuine fear.

Goosebumps crawled up her arms. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead.

That woman’s gaze...

It wasn’t hatred. It was the look of someone who wanted to peel her skin off, hang it on a clothesline, and dance under it.

Who the hell is THAT?!