Chapter 52

It was morning.

A silent morning.

It seemed like the atmosphere in Crescent territory seemed to sense the loss.

A mass of people in black surrounded the pack’s field, which had been turned into a small graveyard.

Three fresh graves stood in the clearing, each with people standing in front, crying.

Liam, the Crescent pack’s Alpha, his name written boldly on one of the granite slabs, Jasmine, his sister, her grave decorated with flowers that had already begun to curl and fade, and the smallest grave stone, for the newborn twin, gone before it could be named.

Clara stood before Liam’s grave, her boots sinking into the mud from standing there for so long, she had been standing all night, her body was limp, the cold already beginning to settle in her bones, leaving her numb.

Her hands trembled, not from the cold but from the feeling of a grief so large it threatened to destroy her.

The mate bond that had once felt warm in her chest, now felt like a dagger in her chest, the ache was unbearable, every breath felt like hard work, it was unbearable, she could barely breath.

The whole crescent pack gathered in multiple small circles, their faces pale and empty, their eyes empty and filled with the kind of sorrow that didn’t speak.

Wolves who had once roared with laughter a few days ago now stood silent, their shoulders slumped, the elderly clutched at their own hearts, shaking their heads in disbelief.
How could it happen?
Why did it have to happen?

How could their alpha have been taken from them so soon and in such a cold and cowardly manner.

Young children that couldn’t really understand what was going on were all still in bed as the parents filled the fields, singing hymns in honor of the fallen.

Clara felt their eyes on her, some were looking at her soft pity, while others were looking at her with questions she couldn’t answer.

She wanted to scream, to shatter the silence, but her voice was gone, it had left with Liam, even till now she could t get his final moments out of her head, his golden eyes fading, his blood warm and sticky on her hands, the wolf’s-bane dagger sticking out of his chest as he bled out in front of her, his eyes still filled with love as he looked at her despite the pain he was enduring from the dagger.

She still couldn't believe Adele did it.

She couldn’t understand why she would do it.

The same Adele, who had sat at their fire, who had sworn loyalty with a smile.

The betrayal hurt, and the grief was worse, it was a beast that was tearing her from the inside, tearing away pieces of who she had been.

Just then Gabe’s voice broke the silence, his voice sounded so rough and unsteady, as he walked down the field carrying the bowl for the Moon Goddess’s rites.

He stopped at the head of the graves, he had always been a giant of a man but now he looked so small, reduced by loss, his dark hair was tangled, his jaw was bushy from days of neglect.

He held a flask in his coat pocket, the sharp smelling of whiskey telling everyone the way he had spent his night trying to drown his pain.

Across his chest, in a baby harness his surviving son slept.

Gabe was Clara’s best friend, her friend who had stood by her for years, but now he was Alpha, a title that had been pushed upon him, it now felt like a crown of thorns.

He stammered as he blabbed on about eternal rest, and the pack’s enduring strength, but everyone could tell even he himself didn’t believe what he was saying.

The Crescent pack was no longer a family; it was a house of cards, trembling in the wind, ready to collapse under the weight of everything.

Clara barely heard the rites.

Her eyes were glued to Liam’s grave, she had stared at it so much that she could tell the number of grasses surrounding it.

She wanted to claw them away, to dig until her nails bled, to pull him back to her.

The mate-bond was gone, but her love for him was a fire that refused to die.

She could still feel his calloused hands brushing her cheek, she could still hear his deep rumble of laughter, she could still see the way his eyes crinkled when he teased her about her stubborn behaviors.

Now he was just a name carved in stone, and she was a ghost in her own skin, moving through a world that no longer made sense.

She felt hot tears in her eyes again.

“Clara.” Gabe’s voice was closer now, filled with worry, pulling her from her thoughts.

He stood beside her, his eyes were blood red, the baby still sleeping soundly in the harness.

The smell of whiskey was on his body.

He looked almost unrecognizable.

“You gotta eat something.” He whispered.

“You’re fading away, and I can’t, ” He paused as his voice cracked, and he looked away, his hand twitching toward the flask before he stopped himself.

“I can’t lose you too.” He whispered.

“I’m fine,” Clara whispered, the words shaking as they came out of her mouth.

She wasn’t fine.

She was drowning, her chest felt empty, in the space of how many months she had lost her baby, been in a coma and still lost the man she loved the most.

She met his eyes, in there she saw the boy who had been her confidant, the one who had laughed with her over late-night campfires, he was now buried under the weight of a role he had never wanted.

“I’m here,” she added, a little softer, trying to reassure him, but the lie tasted bitter.

Gabe looked away and tightened his jaw, his eyes searching hers for a spark of the Clara he knew.

“You’re not here.” He said.

“Not really.” He adjusted the sling, his son’s tiny hand curling against his chest, and for a moment, his face softened, filled with love and loss.

“Jasmine would’ve hated seeing you like this.” He said and smiled a sad empty smile.

“She’d have dragged you to the kitchen, made you eat her terrible stew.” A ghost of a smile showed on his face, then it died.

Jasmine, Liam’s sister, his lover, he wished he had been there for her, he wished it was him, why did she have to suffer so much and still die.

He looked away, restraining himself from drowning himself in whiskey.

“I know,” Clara said, her throat burning. She wanted to reach for him, to be the friend she’d always been, but right now her grief felt like a wall, trapping her away from him.

“I’m trying, Gabe.”

Across the field, Eric and Ariana stood silently, their hands in their pockets but looking devastated.

Eric’s shoulders were bent, his dark eyes fixed on the horizon, as if he could change the past by staring hard enough.

He’d been Liam’s best friend, his brother in all but blood, and the guilt of not being there when he was attacked and killed was killing him.

He hated himself for it.

Ariana stood silently, she didn’t know how to feel.

She knew Tyler well enough and this seemed like something he would do as a repercussion for her joining the crescent pack.

She’d been Tyler’s captive once, his cruelty was deep in his soul, he had no morals, and though she’d escaped to the Crescent pack, the way some of the pack members had been looking at her reminded her that she’ never fully belonged.

She slowly put on her sunglasses, she had never felt so angry in her life.

All she wanted to do right now was find Tyler, the monster who’d orchestrated this massacre.

She wanted his blood, even if it cost her own.

The pack began to slowly howl a low, mournful song that rang through the trees, a lament for all they had lost.

Clara couldn’t join it.

Her voice was gone, her chest felt too tight, she could barely keep the tears back.

As the others began to slowly walk away while singing sorrowfully, some looked at her with pity while going.

She didn’t move, she stayed by Liam’s grave, like she had stayed all night.

Her parents approached.

She turned to look at them, tears in her eyes. This was meant to be a happy moment for her, reconnecting with her parents after all these years but she didn’t feel happy.

Her mother’s brown eyes were soft and filled with love, it reminded her so much of hers, while her father’s face looked kind and bright.

Even though she had just met them now, they didn’t feel like strangers.

“Clara, come with us,” her mother said, her voice gentle as she reached out a hand that made Clara feel like she wasn’t alone the moment the hand rested on her shoulder.

“You don’t have to stay here alone.” She whispered.

Clara forced a smile, her lips shaking with the effort.

“Soon,” she said, knowing she wouldn’t move.

Not yet.

Not when Liam was lying alone on this cold floor, she couldn’t leave him alone. She needed to stay here, she needed to feel his presence, to keep herself from losing her mind.

Her parents hesitated, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange of worry, then slowly began to walk away, joining the crowd of friends as they walked away.

Gabe also hadn’t moved, he was watching her with a mix of frustration and fear.

“Clara, I’m serious,” he said, his voice sharper now, rough with whiskey and desperation.

“Standing here won’t bring him back.” He whispered.

“You think I don’t want to rip the earth open, drag Jasmine out, hold her again?” He said as he rested his hand on his son’s head, protective, broken, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“But we’ve got people counting on us.” He whispered.

“The pack, my kid… I can’t do this without you.” He muttered.

“I know,” Clara managed to say without looking up at him.

“I’ll try,” she added, but the words felt empty, a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep.

Night slowly came and the burial ground was now empty until only Clara remained.

She knelt, pressing her palm to the cold earth over Liam’s grave, the dirt felt cold against her skin.

Tears fell from her eyes, soaking the soil, each tear was a piece of her heart.

“I would give anything,” she whispered, her voice breaking, raw with a longing that bordered on madness.

“Anything, I would do anything, I would anything, I would give anything.”

“My heart, my soul, anything to have you back.” She whispered.