The only thing I know for sure is, when the shit finally hits the fan, it’s going to be a fucking catastrophe.
Chapter 9 - Lexa
I run down the street, barely able to see through the flood of tears running down my cheeks. I push myself on faster and faster, hearing the slap of my feet on the ground as my breath begins to burn in my throat.
She was buried… someone took care of her. Who? Why?
My exertion collides with my terror and confusion, leaving me so breathless that dark spots start to bounce through my vision. I stop so suddenly, I almost fall down, bracing my hands on my knees while I pant to get my breath back.
Something isn’t right.
Father said that he killed Mom and that they fought to the death. But if that were true, why did anyone come looking for her?
And if someone took care of her, why didn’t they come for me, too?
My misery and grief feel like a sharp, hard stone in my chest. We weren’t popular here; I know that. Kit’s grandfather didn’t like us and probably wanted to kick us out from the moment we arrived.
I was so young when we came here, I had no idea about any of this. I only found out as I got older that we weren’t welcome. Luckily, Mother had a few friends who were close to the top families. They fought for her so she was allowed to stay.
Fresh tears sting my eyes as I think of my beautiful, gentle mom standing up against all this adversity. I remember so little of those early years because she got us both out of there before Father could turn his cruelty on me.
And he found me, anyway. Mother, I’m so, so sorry I let you down. You tried so hard, and I let him get me.
Standing up straight, I take a deep breath and hold it, looking at the tall, wrought-iron gates ahead of me. As I walk through, I feel like I’m passing into another dimension or maybe a different time.
Echoes from the past. That’s all that lives here now.
The front rows of the cemetery are neat and well cared for. There is an impressive stone monument in the center for the families of the Alpha line. I pause as I walk by, seeing the graves of Leopold and Alisha, Kit’s grandparents.
I wonder how they died. It must have been around the same time as when I left.
Shaking my head, I turn away from the monument and head for the back rows of the graveyard, where the aisles are choked with weeds and unruly, long grass. There are so many loose ends floating around in my mind, I can’t even begin to make sense of them.
Secrets. Secrets buried all around me. I don’t even know if I want to know the truth.
Briefly, I try to imagine what would have happened if I had just kept running. I’d be high in the mountains now, probably somewhere in Canada. I like to think I’d be safe, wild, and free, but in all likelihood, I’d be starved, frozen, and probably under attack by wild arctic wolves.
Natural wolves won’t go after a shifter… unless they’re a big pack and a shifter wanders into their territory.
My eyes have been lightly running over the headstones, and when my mother’s name leaps out at me, it hits me like a blow.
“Laura Close. Dear friend, valued member of the pack, and beloved mother. May you run free on the hills beyond our world.”
“Who wrote that?” I whisper as if the spirits around me could answer the question. No conclusion comes, even though the wind picks up and moans through the headstones. Maybe the ghosts do have something to say.
I fall to my knees in front of the grave, tears pouring down my cheeks. The grief in my chest is so extreme, I know I can’t let it out all at once, or it would completely destroy me.
Some things are so sharp, dark, and heavy that they can’t be let go… or held on to.
Memories flood through my mind, and slowly, the pain consumes me. I see my mother standing in our kitchen, waving a wooden spoon as she sings and dances to the radio. I can almost smell the cookies baking, and taste the hot cocoa. Her voice rings through me, her love and encouragement always lifting me up and making my heart soar.
I love you, Mom. I love you so much.
The beautiful memories are shattered by the image of her broken, bloodied body. She was crumpled in the dirt, arms, and legs twisted, blood smearing her pale skin. It looked like she’d been brought down by a pack of wolves, not one.
But if that’s what happened, why would Father lie and say he did it?
Useless questions. The kind that could drive a person completely insane. No one can fathom the actions of a sociopath, and trying to gain closure about it would only shatter my mind.
