Chapter 6 Celebration and Responsibility
Lily's POV
I flinched so hard I nearly fell backward through the doorway. The lights revealed Martha and Silver standing in the living room, beaming at me amid colorful streamers and balloons. Between them sat a small cake with lit candles, their flames dancing in the dimness.
"What's going on?" I stammered, my heart still racing from the shock.
Silver bounded over, clutching something in his hands. "You forgot your own birthday, sis! It was two days ago!" He reached up and placed a delicate crown of woven wildflowers on my head. "I made this for you. A birthday crown!"
I stood frozen, unable to process what was happening. Birthday? Mine? The concept seemed foreign, like a tradition from another lifetime.
"I... I don't understand," I whispered, my fingers touching the soft petals above my brow.
Martha approached with a gentle smile. "Silver told me, and I thought you deserved a proper celebration. Even if it's a little late."
Memories flickered through my mind—sparse birthday acknowledgments throughout childhood, eventually fading to nothing. Dad remembering sometimes, before the darkness took him. Later, birthdays became just another day to survive.
"I can't remember the last time anyone..." My voice cracked, betraying me.
"You don't need to say anything, dear," Martha said warmly. "Just enjoy this moment."
Silver tugged me toward the table where the cake waited. "Martha helped me bake it! Chocolate with vanilla frosting. Your favorite, right?"
I nodded, not having the heart to tell him I didn't actually have a favorite. The fact that they'd done this at all was overwhelming enough.
"Mrs. Bennett tells me you're quite the natural with plants," Martha remarked as she cut the cake. "Says you're the most talented beginner she's seen in years."
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "It's nothing special. Just... knowledge I picked up as a kid." I accepted a plate with a generous slice. "Dad taught me about herbs before he... changed. After that, I'd gather them from the mountains to sell. You learn fast when it means eating or not."
Silver's eyes widened. "You never told me that! What other secret skills are you hiding?"
The question nudged against darker memories—skills learned for survival rather than pleasure. I forced a smile. "Not the time for that. Those candles look like they're waiting to be blown out."
Silver quickly rearranged the candles on my slice. "Make a wish! But don't tell us or it won't come true!"
I closed my eyes, feeling strangely childlike. I wish for this peace to last. Just this simple life, with no more running or fear. I blew out the flames with one breath.
The gift exchange came next. I reached for my bag, pulling out the packages I'd hidden there. "I have something for both of you too."
Martha unwrapped the soft wool scarf I'd found at the market, her fingers tracing the intricate pattern. "Oh, Lily... this is lovely. How did you know I've been wanting one just like this?"
"I noticed you always rub your neck on cold mornings," I explained, pleased that my observation had paid off.
Silver tore into his package with childish enthusiasm, squealing when he discovered the chocolates and small carved wooden fox. "This is awesome! Thank you!" He immediately bit into one of the chocolates, his eyes closing in bliss. "I have the best sister ever!"
To my surprise, there were packages for me too. Martha had given me a practical but beautiful journal with pressed flowers on the cover. "For all those plant observations you'll want to write down," she explained.
Silver's gift was a braided bracelet in blues and silvers. "Matches your eyes," he said proudly.
I fingered the intricate pattern, wondering when he'd found time to make it. "I love it. Thank you both. This is... more than I ever expected."
A week later, I moved through Green Thumb's greenhouse with growing confidence. My daily routine had developed a comfortable rhythm—checking moisture levels in the tropical section first, then moving to the succulents, ending with the specialized plants.
Including the blood bat flowers.
Each time I entered that section, my heart rate still accelerated, but not entirely from fear anymore. The dark crimson blooms had become strangely fascinating. Their petals unfurled like tiny bat wings, deep veins running through translucent tissue.
Understanding your enemy is power—even when that enemy is just an innocent plant.
My wolf disagreed. She bristled whenever I tended to them, pushing against my consciousness with warnings. But I'd been learning to separate the plant from what Blake had done with it.
"It's not the flower's fault," I whispered, carefully removing wilted blooms. "It didn't choose to become poison."
The rational approach helped me function, but didn't completely erase the complicated feelings that surged whenever I remembered my broken family. At least here, caring for these plants professionally, I could reclaim some control over the thing that had once controlled me.
During lunch break, I sat with two coworkers—Emma, a talkative college student, and Darius, the delivery driver. They'd been welcoming, if not exactly friends yet.
"...and then the customer insisted the cactus should be watered daily," Emma rolled her eyes. "I swear, some people shouldn't be allowed near plants."
Darius laughed, then lowered his voice. "Speaking of people who shouldn't be trusted with plants—heard Blake fired his procurement manager last month. Apparently, a batch of blood bats didn't meet his standards."
My sandwich suddenly tasted like cardboard. I swallowed hard, trying to appear only casually interested.
"Is he really that difficult?" I asked, forcing nonchalance into my voice.
Emma leaned closer. "Worse than the rumors. My cousin worked at his bar briefly. She says he can literally smell fear."
"That's bullshit," Darius scoffed, though he didn't sound entirely convinced.
"What I heard," Emma continued, "is that he has some kind of secret lab under the bar. That's why he personally inspects every batch of blood bats we deliver."
I kept my expression neutral while my mind raced. This explained the meticulous care Mrs. Bennett demanded for those plants.
"When's the next delivery?" I asked, hoping the question sounded casual.
"Tomorrow, actually," Darius replied. "First Thursday of every month."
The conversation drifted to other topics, but my thoughts remained fixed on Blake and his obsession with the flowers. How did he even discover that these poisonous flowers could be used to make alcohol? The question haunted me through the afternoon as I worked.
I was carefully pruning a blood bat flower when Mrs. Bennett appeared beside me. She observed silently for several minutes, inspecting the plants I'd been tending.
"Excellent work," she finally said. "These are thriving under your care. You have a natural instinct for what they need."
"I'm just following your instructions," I replied, though I couldn't help feeling a flush of pride. "They're actually quite responsive once you understand their language."
She nodded approvingly. "One week and you're already at this level. My family has run this shop for five generations, and I rarely see talent like yours."
I continued trimming, savoring the satisfaction of doing something well. Something legitimate.
"Lily," Mrs. Bennett's tone suddenly shifted to something more businesslike. "Tomorrow is our delivery day for the blood bat flowers to Alpha's tavern."
