Chapter 62

A cold wind blew through the silent cemetery.

“Rise! Liam rise!” Clara screamed the last words of the chant and fell to the floor in exhaustion.

The chant hadn’t been as easy as she imagined, her throat felt like it was on fire.

The final words of the chant came out cracked and broken, scraping her raw vocal cords until they felt like shredded paper.

Those ancient words Mara had forced her to memorize, over and over in the cabin’s shaky lamplight, her raspy voice correcting every mispronunciation, tasted like dust on Clara’s tongue and she felt a little bit of regret in the depth of her soul.

She had screamed the chant following Mara’s instructions to scream them until she felt heard and answered.

She had repeated them until her voice gave out completely, until her lips were numb from the cold and the effort, until the moon climbed high enough in the ink-black sky to leave long, skeletal shadows across the snowy cemetery ground.

She was normally scared of cemeteries, but tonight, nothing could make her scared, instead she screamed more.

Channeling every emotion she felt into the chants.

She had to renew the salt circle after every chant, pouring it with trembling hands, grain by grain, her fingers cramping from holding the cold pouch for long, it shone a bright white color against the dark, black sand of the cemetery, it looked like a perfect, unbroken ring enclosing Liam’s body at its very center.

The white garment she wrapped around him was no longer pure white, it was soaked through with her blood, leaving dark reddish patches that spread outward from where she had dripped it on his chest.

The metallic smell of it mixed heavily with the sharp smell of the salt, creating a nauseating smell that almost made her vomit every time it hit her.

Every breath she took tasted of iron, she had to endure it.
Clara groaned as she sat on the floor, she could no longer stand after hours of standing, digging, chanting.

The new shovel slipped from her numb fingers first, clattering to the frozen ground with a dull thud that sent a small puff of snow into the air.

Then the bone handle knife, the one Mara had given to her with a warning about its hunger for blood, followed, its blade hitting a nearby headstone, a sharp, ringing clink following, the sounds made the cemetery feel a little more eerie.

Her right hand ached where she had sliced it deeper this time, it was all part of the ritualistic instructions Mara had given her, she had cut a straight line across her palm, and it burned like liquid fire as fresh blood rose up in thick beads.

It dripped steadily on the grave’s edge now, each drop hitting the snow with a faint hiss, steaming slightly before freezing into tiny red crystals.

The pain was unreal, but she liked it, it made her feel like she was finally doing something right, something that could bring Liam back to her.

She groaned again, feeling some discomfort in her chest from the binding Mara had sewn into her chest with that sticky, cold liquid, it was was no longer a subtle, nagging pain, now it felt like a live wire was embedded under her skin, getting unbearably painful with each second that passed.

She opened her mouth to whisper the chant again when she felt it, she froze, she could feel the veil between worlds thinning to the point of transparency, the wind began to pick up, growing thick and heavy with something profoundly wrong, it felt like an unnatural pressure was building behind her eyes, like the entire cemetery was a balloon about to burst.

Then it all stopped.

The wind died completely, leaving an eerie silence, no other sound except her shaky breathing and the distant sound of an owl that sounded too much like a scream.

She looked up at the moon, it was full, and energizing as expected.
It easily illuminated the whole cemetery.

She could easily see every headstone, even the ones whose names had faded already.

She smiled weakly as she looked down at Liam’s body.

She could feel a presence.

It felt near.

She opened her mouth weakly and began to whisper the chants.
She was exhausted but she couldn’t stop, it was now or never.
It was freezingly cold, she had read somewhere that the presence of ghosts is always marked by a freezingly cold temperature.

Even her hoodie and the layers of clothing she wore underneath couldn’t protect her from the cold, it felt like she was naked and her body was locked under ice, her body slowly going numb, she didn’t stop, she kept whispering the chant.

Her muscles ached so badly from the digging, from hours of thrusting the shovel into iron hard ground, from hours chipping away at snow until her shoulders burned and her back felt bent.

She stared at Liam’s still body tears filled her
eyes, as she begged him to move, to breathe, to come back to her.

“Please,” she whispered to no one, to the moon, to whatever dark force she had bargained with.

“Please work.” She begged, tears in her eyes.

Just then Liam’s fingers twitched.

It was unnoticeable at first, just the index finger of his right hand curling slightly inward, the knuckle brushing against the blood soaked garment with a faint rustle.

Clara froze, her heart slamming against her ribs so violently she thought they might crack under the pressure, each beat echoing in her ears like a drum.

“Liam?” The name escaped her lips as a whisper, she barely heard over the sudden rush of blood in her head and the wind which had increased again, it was howling in her ears and blowing so wild it felt like a hurricane was passing through the cemetery.

She looked at his fingers and noticed a twitch, it was stronger, more deliberate this time.

His entire hand flexed, his fingers splaying then curling as if testing their existence.

Then his foot shifted inside the garment, the fabric rustling like dry autumn leaves.

A low groan escaped his throat, followed by the thick sound of something in pain, it sounded inhuman, the sound of something dragging itself back from an abyss.

Clara looked in shock, holding her breath as if scared to disturb whatever entity was at work.

She scrambled forward on her knees without thinking, ignoring the sharp pain of the gravel and ice that cut her through the worn holes in her jeans, her blood slowly rolling down her knees.
She groaned as she began tearing at the garment in frantic, clumsy pulls.

The fabric ripped under her nails, she didn’t care.

“Liam, baby, it’s me.” She called.

“It’s Clara.” She said, her voice shaking.

“I’m here. I did it. I brought you back.” She whispered, her voice already shaking as tears were rolling down her face.

The garment covering his body slowly fell away, revealing his face inch by inch, his face, the one she’d kissed a thousand times, it was as pale as moonlight but it had no signs of the decay as she had feared, the wolfsbane wound in his chest sealed under the herbal dressing Mara had instructed her to apply.

She smiled, tears in her eyes, his skin was cold, ice cold but it was not rotting, and it was not cold in the way of the truly dead.

His eyes slowly opened.

She almost lost control.

Those golden irises, the one she had missed so badly.

He looked around with disorientation and confusion, blinking slowly as he raised his hand to block the harsh silver ray of the moon.

His chest moved, once, twice, then rose and fell in small but steady breaths.

Alive.

He was alive again.

Clara burst into tears, a deep, loud cry, from the depths of her heart as she remembered the three days of bone crushing sadness, sleepless nights, and endless tears, it all exploded out in one uncontrollable wave that left her gasping for breath.

She threw herself at him without hesitation, her arms wrapping around his neck like vines, pulling him close with all the strength left in her trembling, her body aching.

He was cold, freezing, like he had been pulled straight from the middle of a block of ice, but she didn’t care.

Why would she?

At least he was breathing.

He was real.

His chest rose and fell again, she almost burst into another round of tears.

He was really breathing.

She had done it!

“You’re back.” She muttered in tears.

“Oh God, you’re back,” she said, choking out between sobs, tears rolling down her face.

They soaked into his shoulder as her body shook with violent, uncontrollable tremors, she was filled with relief, joy, fear, everything mixed together.

She buried her nose in the side of his neck, inhaling deeply, desperately, he still smelled like the embalming ointment they had rubbed on his body a few days ago.

His hair was a little sandy, but apart from that, nothing was different, he was still the Liam she remembered.

The Liam she loved.

Liam’s arms came up slowly, in a robotic way, as if his muscles had forgotten their purpose after days of not using them and stillness in the coffin

His hands stopped on her back first, slowly, his palms felt cold on her hoodie, his fingers moving about as if testing to see if she was also real.

Then they pressed firmer, pulling her closer with a strength that surprised her.

“Clara…?” His voice was rough, cracked from not speaking in days.

“Clara?” He said again.

“What… What the hell happened?” He asked.

“Where are we?” He pulled back slightly, just enough to search her face, his golden eyes looking very confused, as he looked around the open grave, the salt circle, the blood on her hands and chest.

The look of confusion he had on his face increased, his mouth opened in shock before closing back.

“I remember being in pain.” He muttered.

“So much pain.” He whispered.

“The knife sliding in, right here.” His hand moved to his chest, his fingers pressing over the dressed wound, wincing.

“The wolfsbane hurt, it felt like acid was in my veins.” He paused and looked at her.

“After that I can’t remember anything else, just nothing. Just black. Endless black. Am I… dead? Is this heaven? Hell? Clara, talk to me, please.” He whispered, looking around again.

“Shh, shh.” Clara whispered as she pressed a trembling finger to his lips, shaking her head slowly, fresh tears falling on his cheek.

Her voice cracked as she spoke, barely holding herself together.

“Don’t talk yet.” She whispered.

“Just, hold me.” She begged.

“Please, Liam.” She begged.

“Just hold me and let me feel you.” She pulled him to her again, her arms wrapping around his torso like she would never let go, her face buried in his neck once more.

She could feel it again, their mate bond, it had come alive again, it was weak but she could feel it there, it was there,undeniably there, like a guitar string that just got played after years of silence.

Her happiness, her life, her future, was back in her arms. She could feel his heartbeat against her own, as gentle as ever.

A tear rolled down her cheek again.

She thought she had lost him forever.

She couldn’t imagine life without him.

He was the reason she wanted to live.

She remembered Sunday mornings in their small cabin, sunlight coming in through the curtains as he made burnt toast and called it burnt perfection.

She remembers the way his loud laugh would echo through the woods as he chased her in wolf form, dragging playfully at her heels, the way he would whisper her name in the dark after nightmares.

“Clara, I love you so much baby.” He would always say.

She almost burst out crying.

She pulled back just enough to fill his face with kisses, forehead, cheeks, lips, tasting salt from her tears and the small taste of grave sand.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered between kisses, her voice breaking.

“Every second without you was hell.” She whispered.

“The pack, they buried you, Liam.” She said with tears in her eyes.

“Three days ago.” She paused to wipe the tears but new ones began to roll down.

“I couldn’t, I couldn’t let you go.” She muttered.

“I went to Mara, the witch. I… I traded. For you.” She said crying.

Liam’ frowned in confusion as he gently held her face and used his thumbs to gently wipe her tears.

He used a part of the garment to wipe the blood on her face.

“Traded? Clara, what did you, ”

Just then she remembered Mara’s words, the words began to ring in her head, making her freeze for a second.
A soul for a soul.

When he breathes, you stop.

No refunds.

No mercy.