The sky hangs heavy with gray clouds, casting a somber pallor over the cemetery. A steady, cold rain patters against the black canopy of our umbrella, each drop echoing the ache in our hearts. The chill in the air seeps into our bones, an unwelcome reminder that even as spring struggles to emerge, grief knows no season. The wind sighs through the skeletal trees, carrying with it the earthy scent of damp soil and the delicate perfume of early blossoms. As we stand at the wrought-iron gates, the weight of sorrow presses down upon us, suffocating in its intensity.
Alex grips my hand tightly, our fingers intertwining, as our five-year-old daughter, Arabella, nestles between us beneath the shelter of the umbrella. Her small hand clutches a posy of wildflowers, their vibrant petals a stark contrast to the monochrome landscape. She gazes up at me, her wide, gray eyes-so like her father’s-brimming with questions she’s still too young to articulate. In the soft curve of her cheek and the determined set of her chin, I see Alex reflected back at me.
Our footsteps crunch against the gravel path, the sound amplified in the heavy silence that shrouds us. Alex’s jaw is tight, his eyes fixed ahead as we make our way to his brother’s final resting place.
As we approach the elegant black marble headstone, its polished surface adorned with fresh flowers left by those who remember him still, Arabella steps forward solemnly. With careful reverence, she arranges her offering at the base of the stone, her tiny fingers lingering on the smooth petals.
Memories of that fateful day flood my mind unbidden-Lorenzo’s fierce determination to make Alice see the error of her ways and his unwavering belief in the power of redemption. Tears burn in my eyes as I recall his final moments, the light fading from his eyes as he paid the ultimate price for his love for her. The weight of guilt settles heavily in my chest, insidious whispers that perhaps if I had acted sooner, been less hesitant to do what was necessary, he might still be here with us.
As if sensing the dark turn of my thoughts, Alex squeezes my hand, his deep voice gentle as he murmurs, “It wasn’t your fault, my love.”
I attempt to smile, but it feels brittle on my lips. “I know,” I whisper, the words hollow even to my own ears.
Arabella tugs at Alex’s sleeve, her voice soft and imploring. “Daddy, tell me about Uncle Lorenzo again?”
Alex crouches down, brushing a tendril of hair from her face with a sad smile. “Your uncle was the best little brother I could have asked for,” he begins, his voice wistful.
As he shares stories of their childhood adventures and Lorenzo’s boundless capacity for love and forgiveness, I feel the sting of tears once more. These are the memories our daughter will carry of an uncle she’ll never truly know, a relationship lost before it even had a chance to begin. Also of, the amazing person Lorenzo was, but I never got to know thanks to Alice.
The rain continues to fall as Alex’s stories drift into contemplative silence, each of us lost in our private grief. The cold seeps deeper, chilling me to my marrow. After a long moment, I rest my hand on Alex’s shoulder, my voice soft. “We should go, love.”
Alex nods, his gaze lingering on Lorenzo’s name etched in stark relief against the dark stone. “Until next time, little brother,” he whispers, his words nearly lost in the rain.
We turn to leave and head back home, the pack house looming before us. We’re greeted by a very angry Luna Marley as we approach the front door. Her eyes blaze with fury, and her lips are pursed in a tight line. So, tonight’s the king’s 60th birthday, and we’re late. That’s why she’s angry.
“I loved my son very much, but you don’t see me visiting his grave today,” she adds, pulling us in for a kiss on the cheek. Her anger seems to dissipate, replaced by a wistful sadness. She and her mate apologize for trying to extort my powers years ago. I forgive them since they never harmed me.
“Sorry, mom. We’ll be ready before you know it,” Alex says, his tone placating as we step inside the pack house. The familiar scents of home wash over us the earthy aroma of the wooden beams, the faint hint of the fireplace, and the underlying musk of the pack.
“You better be,” she warns, her eyes narrowing before she turns and stalks towards her room, her heels clicking sharply on the hardwood floors.
Alex and I drop Bella in her room with an omega to help dress her, then rush to ours.
“Alex, do you think we can pull this off?” I ask as we enter, slipping out of my clothes.
“We don’t have a choice,” he replies, already unbuttoning his shirt. The muscles of his back ripple with the movement, and I can’t help but admire the sight. “We have to make it happen. The last thing I need from Mom is an earful tonight.” He shoots me a wry grin over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Stop staring and get moving,” he teases, his voice low and playful.
“I’m just appreciating what’s mine,” I reply with a smirk, walking to the closet.
I grab a deep emerald green dress that contrasts beautifully with my skin tone and start changing. The soft fabric caresses my curves as I slip it on, and I feel a surge of confidence wash over me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I can’t help but smile at the reflection staring back at me.
I step out, and Alex is already in his tuxedo, looking every bit the alpha he is, strong and commanding. We head back to Bella’s room; we find her already dressed and waiting, a vision in her beautiful pink princess gown. Her eyes light up as she sees us, and she twirls, the skirt of her dress fanning out around her. “You look beautiful, honey,” I say, smoothing her hair and feeling a swell of maternal pride.
“Thank you, Mommy,” she replies, her voice filled with excitement and joy.
We head downstairs and join the rest of the family in the driveway. Uncle Fredrick has invited the whole Alpha and Beta family of the pack, and the air is alive with the buzz of conversation and laughter. Mila and Cameron stare in exasperation as their twin boys, Luke and Liam, chase each other around the cars, their boundless energy a whirlwind of motion.
Mila catches my eye and turns to face me, her shoulders dropping in a weary sigh. “Do we have to bring them along?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration. The twins can be a handful, especially at the age of five.
I walk over to her, an encouraging smile on my face. “Don’t worry; there will be enough omegas to take them off your hands tonight,” I reassure her, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.
“Thank the moon goddess,” Cameron says, relief washing over his features as he heads towards their car. Alex lets out a good-natured chuckle in return.
He walks over to me with our daughter in hand, her tiny fingers clutching his. “One would think they didn’t love their boys and would do anything for them after that conversation,” he murmurs, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“That person must’ve never dealt with a toddler before,” a voice speaks up behind us. We turn to see Jason and Bae stepping out, holding their young son, Samuel, who’s sound asleep in her arms. His tiny chest rises and falls with each peaceful breath, a picture of innocent slumber.
“Jason, Bae, are you ready?” I ask, realizing they’re the last ones remaining before we can depart.
“Yeah, let me just say goodnight,” Bae says, her voice soft and tender. She lays a soft kiss on her three-month-old baby’s head, breathing in his sweet scent. Jason does the same, his large hand cradling Samuel’s tiny form with a gentleness that belies his strength before handing him to an omega.
Alex and I share a knowing look, both of us thinking about how much lives have changed and how heartwarming it is to see everyone thriving and happy. A sense of contentment settles over me, a warmth that spreads from my chest to the tips of my fingers and toes.
“Let’s go,” Alex says after a moment, his voice filled with quiet pride. We head towards the car, ready to embark on our journey to the castle, a night of celebration and togetherness awaiting us.
The ride is rushed, tires screeching as we race against the clock, my heart pounding with the fear of being late. We burst through the grand doors of the ballroom, the warm glow of chandeliers washing over us. We greet Uncle Fredrick first, exchanging warm embraces and heartfelt congratulations, before mingling with the other werewolves and even the humans who have come to celebrate with him.
I leave Alex with a group of humans and werewolves before walking over to Mom. She lives in the castle with Uncle Fredrick now. At first, she didn’t want to, but after some good begging from him, she finally agreed. As I approach her, I can see the contentment in her eyes, a rare peace that has settled over her since moving here.
Mom and I discuss Bella’s tantrum, her tiny face scrunched up in that adorable pout that melts my heart. But our conversation is cut short by a sudden hush that falls over the room, the air growing thick and ominous. A chill races down my spine as every hair on my body stands on end, an unfamiliar energy crackling through the space like static electricity.
I follow the gazes of the stunned crowd to the entrance, and there they stand – the Raven wolves. Mom lets out a guttural snarl as the alpha family strides in, their very presence casting a dark shadow that seems to suck the warmth from the room. The alpha, his broad shoulders squared and eyes narrowed, leads the way with his beta at his side. But it’s the young boy, probably the future alpha from the aura coming off him.
As they approach Uncle Fredrick, exchanging terse greetings, the boy’s eyes lock onto mine, and I watch in horror as they bleed to an inky black. His lips part, and the word that slips out chills me to my core: “Mate.”
The breath catches in my lungs, and I can only stare back, wide-eyed and confused. But it’s the tiny whimper from below that shatters my trance as I look down to find Bella clinging to my leg, her little body quivering with fear. Dread washes over me like a tidal wave as the realization hits – he wasn’t speaking to me but to my daughter, my precious Bella.
“No!” The word tears from my throat, raw and primal, as I stand there frozen in time.
THE END