THE ROGUE WOLF

by Klaire London

  Azra should already be dead, but I know that she's stronger than most. If anyone can battle against wolf's bane and survive, it is her.

  "I wish I could stay," the woman continues. Her bottom lip trembles. I know how hard she's trying to stay strong and fearless in her last moments, but her shield is cracking. I can see the petrified girl lurking beneath like a shadow - permanent yet undesired. "I wish I could. For you and Josh. You both mean so much to me, and I- I can't thank you enough.

  "But I'm going to a better place," she blinks, "I'm going to see my parents," her words break into a whine. She's finally fractured. "I'm going to see them."

  What should I tell her? Not to be stupid, and of course she'll survive this? Or be empathetic? Hold her hand whilst the life slips from the shell of her body?

  Instead, I remain silent. My lips press a kiss against the back of her hand before resting my cheek on the skin. The action is new to me, but I reminiscent my father doing it when my mother was ill, to get her through the pain.

  "I'm not scared, Aurora," she says. She's lying. "Everyone thinks that death is a terrible thing"- that's because it is, I scream inwardly -"But when you die, the pain, the suffering... It's all over. You don't have to worry about the deceased because you know that they are safe. Unreachable."

  Her words bring a flood of stinging tears into my eyes. My throat is dry from the lack of water left in my body, but I'm too far gone to care.

  She fastens her hand around my own. "You have to promise me something," she exhales. Her teeth are lined with black, staining the white enamel.

  I nod cautiously. "Anything."

  Azra bites her lip, her fleshy skin white against white. "Promise me that you'll tell Josh that I love him," she states. "And that I'm sorry."

  I wipe away my tears with the corner of my top, but they are immediately replaced by fresh droplets. "I promise." Another squeeze of her hand.

  A mop of brown hair catches the corner of my eye, matching pigmented eyes wandering over my back as they look past me and to the woman laid before me. His clothes are bloodied, a huge hole gaping in the side of his trouser leg. A long gash runs up the side of the limb, knitting together as a small amount of blood runs out of the incision.

  In any other situation, I would be petrified that he was injured. But I don't have time to even feel remotely concerned, or even flustered that Josh is safe. I can't when the crushing weight of Azra's death is pending above my head like an axe.

  I move out of the way in a blink, sliding my hand out of Azra's boiling grip. Josh immediately takes my place, barely giving me a second glance. His fingers indignantly wrap around her digits.

  "I'm here," he speaks softly. The shattering tone in his voice forces my legs to wobble. "Oh God, Azra I'm here."

  Despite the current situation, Azra finds it within herself to smile. "Josh," she breathes.

  Josh's eyes are already swimming with tears. I stand two steps away from him, unsure of how to comfort both of my friends. Instead, I resort to Damien's touch. He walks over as the conversations caging me drown out the sound of my own breathing. He pulls me into his chest, resting a single hand on the back of my head. In an attempt to comfort me, he places a kiss on my forehead, but it's cold.

  "I'm here, Azra," Josh repeats. "I'm here."

  Azra continues to smile, but it grows faint on her face. Her curled up posture makes her appear much smaller than she truly is.

  "I'm sorry," Azra sighs, blinking.

  Josh tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. "There's no need to be sorry."

  "I didn't want it to end like this," she speaks truthfully. Her words are progressively getting softer with every fleeting second.

  Josh shakes his head, refusing to accept the truth. He, just like the rest of us, is in denial. "This isn't the end," he persists.

  Azra bows her head in a strained motion. Another bloodied drop runs from her eye, arcing graciously into her mouth. "Josh, please. I know what's going to happen." The sentences, although quiet, are filled with an endless power that cracks me in two. "And it's ok. It's ok."

  I can’t see Josh's face, but I can imagine the look adorned on it. He is as easily confused as me, and I picture an emotional Josh with his eyebrows pinched together. At any other time, I would've laughed. Inwardly.

  "How is it ok?" Josh retorts. His mouth hangs open in shock. He bends his knees, hovering closer to Azra's face than previously.

  Azra ignores Josh's enquiry. Instead, she smiles at him, a fracture of her teeth glimmering in the dilapidated light. "I love you," she whispers. Her breaths are slowing immeasurably, each rise of her chest a painful strain to fill her lungs with enough oxygen to keep fighting.

  Josh leans his head on the wooden bench, appearing disorientated. "I love you so much, Azra," He whispers as a response. "I love you, and you're not leaving me, ok? Do you understand? You. Are not. Leaving me."

  I could've sworn that Azra chuckles at his remark.

  "And whatever this is, you're going to fight it," he states, wiping away the black staining her cheeks. He knows what's happening to her, but the tense movements in his fingers leave me to believe that he doesn't want to accept the facts. He's always been one for fiction. "You're going to fight it because you're strong, and because I need you."

  Azra closes her eyes, resulting in a ferocious shake from my best friend. I bury my face further into Damien's chest, trying to block out the horrors. To my dismay, my sight is clear, and I can't find it within myself to shut my eyes.

  "I need you, Azra," Josh huffs as he continues to shake her. Eventually, she reopens her bright, electric blue orbs. "I love you."

  Her lips are still painted into a smile. I wish I could capture it, her happiness in that moment. I wish I could remember every detail of her face, so that I wouldn't forget it over time. But I'm forgetful, and the only thing I seem to be mapping is the iridescence of her eyes.

  Azra's hand shakes in Josh's.

  Without warning, Azra screams at the top of her lungs, the noise enough to make my ears begin to ring endlessly. I push both of my hands over my ears in a bid to block out the wails, but it does nothing to halt the endless caterwauling.

  Her muscles all immediately clench as her body grows rigid. Instead of her limbs appearing soft, they appear like quadrilaterals. The woman's chest expands and deflates rapidly as she attempts to force enough oxygen into her lungs.

  The cracking and splintering of bones reverberates through the girl's screams. I gasp in horror when I realise that Azra is breaking Josh's hand with the sheer power of her grip. My best friend - as though defying the laws of pain and agony - doesn't flinch. I step away from Damien in a bid to aid the situation before me, but there is nothing I can do except endure the tormenting wails.

  After ten seconds of Azra gritting her teeth, so tightly that they might shatter, her limbs soften. Her body falls slack like a puppet torn from its strings. Azure gazes up at the vast, high arched ceiling.

  I can't hear her heart beat.

  My body goes into shock, unable to tear my eyes from Azra's peaceful body. She doesn't move, her chest no longer rising and falling irregularly like it had previously done. Her fingers are passive around Josh's hand, having fallen from his grasp.

  Perhaps I'm being paranoid. With so many heartbeats in one room, I could be mistaken.

  She's not dead. She can't be. After everything she's been through, she doesn't deserve this.

  I'm snapped back to reality by Josh's frantic murmuring. "Azra?" He gasps, cradling the side of her face. He shakes her, but she doesn't respond. "Azra?"

  I bring both of my hands up to my mouth as it splits open into a gasp. A sob heaves from my chest, the blood studding my fingers bitter in my mouth. I'm unable to do anything else.

  "Azra?" Josh enquires one last time, his words a mumble as transparent tears slide down his face, reaching his jawline and sinking down into the crevice of her neck. "No," he states, utter disbelief laced within his voice. "No, Azra, don
't leave me. Please don't-"

  His voice is cut off by a round of sobs. Josh's head falls onto the wooden bench below Azra's corpse.

  Gaze caged by encapsulating azure, my legs give way. Pain ricochets through my bones as I hit the cobblestone, but the agony is nothing compared to the weight of my shredded heart.

  23 | Void

  ❝I always tell myself that I'm ok. I repeat it like a mantra. I'm ok. I'm ok. I'm ok. I'm ok. Because I'm afraid that if I stop, even for a moment, I will drown in all the reasons I am not.❞

  Josh's hands haven't stopped shaking. I don't think they ever will.

  I don't know how long I'm on the floor for. Seconds stretch into minutes. Minutes stretch into hours, until my mind is a continual tunnel of time. I don't know how long it's been since Azra's passing, but given her pale complexion and unmoving eyes, I know that it's been long enough. Long enough to confirm that she's dead. The only recollection I have of time is the trembling of Josh's hands. His broken one appears partially healed, the bones knitting together as he refuses to blink.

  I don't know how long it's been when Josh eventually breaks away from Azra's hand. Her fingers have stiffened around his long digits, forcing Josh to pry himself out of her eternal hold. His back is in my face, but I fear that the emotions on his face will be too much for me to process, particularly when I found it impossible to read them in the first place.

  We needed each other, more so than we had ever needed each other before. But with Azra gone, I feel a rift settle between us. Our friendship will never be the way it was before her demise.

  The boy backs away, almost treading on my fingers. I snap them away as his boot lands exactly where my limb had been seconds ago. He has doesn't know that I'm here; why should he? Why would he even care? A shattered finger was nothing compared to a soulless body.

  Before I can get to my feet, Josh slips away into the crowd. Somehow he manages to keep his face from turning in my direction. I stare after his ruffled hair and light footsteps. His figure sways, weak from the recent events. If I were him, I wouldn't be able to walk.

  I place a hand on the floor, the glacial cobblestone biting my hands as I stagger to my feet. There is nothing graceful about my movements, and my body suffers for it. The wound where Hunter tore a hole straight through my body still aches from two days ago - I can still feel the tissues healing as I move. My scars, mostly healed and mounted with crusted blood, ache at the tiniest movement.

  "Aurora?" Damien enquires as I use the wooden bench to steady my wavering body. I reel forwards, accidentally finding myself a meter away from Azra's face and her faded azure eyes. I shut mine in response, wishing that I could erase the last few hours from my mind completely.

  I wave a hand at my mate. I don't want him to follow me. Josh was my best friend, not his.

  I feel the rejection weigh heavy on my heart. Although we can't share telepathic thoughts like stated in multiple human-made myths, we still share a faint connection of emotions. Whenever he's feeling distressed, I also feel the nauseous sensation rush through my blood; uncontrollable.

  But I don't let his emotions barricade me to the spot. I push myself from the wood, eyes still tightly shut until I'm able to stand without support. As soon as I open them, I spot a glimmer of Josh's brunette tresses in the orange light as he exits the hall at the other end of the room.

  I follow the boy closely, using long strides in a bid to catch up with the taller teenager. But keeping up is harder than I anticipated. Although the disorganisation in the hall has somewhat diminished, the amount of wounded continues to grow. I almost trip over a corpse as I sidestep yet another medic rushing to find another patient to save.

  Finally, I reach the corridor, only to find it empty. He must've passed through this hall minutes ago, especially with my disadvantage (consisting of trembling legs and the sick swelling at the back of my mouth).

  I almost punch the wall in frustration, but that would bring even more agony to this horrific day. I have already endured enough pain to last a lifetime.

  "Shit," I murmur, rubbing my temples with my hands. My sweaty palms pull the hair out of my face, eyes open in thought. Where could he be? "Where are you Josh?" I mutter inaudibly.

  Of course, no one answers me. The silence in the corridor is unsettling, by as I pace down the narrow hallway without purpose, it becomes even heavier. With nothing to disrupt my thoughts, they all flow through my head at once and I have to stop and steady myself.

  One thousand questions itch into my brain, but I only allow one to surface: where the hell is Josh?

  Then it clicks, switching on like a lightbulb, the darkness shredded by endearing light. There was only one place he would be, and I knew the location like the white scars running down the back of my hand.

  My pace picks up as I navigate through the castle. I still don't know my way round, but after living in the palace for two months, I have grown used to the endless corridors and winding staircases. It was like navigating a labyrinth, but I could only remember patches in my disrupted memory. But this route would never leave me.

  I find the room, flinging open the wooden door so harshly that the barricade swings and meets the wall with a reverberating crunch. It reminds me of the sound Josh's hand made when Azra shattered the bone.

  There is only one tiny window in the room, with numerous items of clothing scattered across the floor in an array of blacks and greys: Azra and Josh had never been ones to dress in colour, just like me. It was one of the things that had made me feel welcomed when I first met them. Three beds (one of which I shared with Josh for a night), equidistance from each other, lie next to a chest of drawers and a bedside lamp run by some unknown source of electricity. Damien had once tried to explain to me that the electricity was fairly new, and was produced by something called a generator. I had lost interest at that point.

  I pry my eyes away from the young light staring through the window, and the blood-stained snow beyond, to the man before me.

  Josh's chest heaves as he gazes out of the same window, his back still turned. I haven't seen his face for hours. The sensation makes the tips of my fingers tingle. Despite the slamming door, his attention is firmly plastered to the sight before him. I don't think he can find the courage to face me.

  He will blame me for Azra's death. I know it, yet I don't think I'll be able to handle the accusation if he follows through.

  "Josh?" I enquire, my voice rasping against my dry throat.

  Only now does he turn around. Although the tears have appeared to stop flowing, his eyes are stained a deep scarlet pigment from irritation. The tears have cut deep channels into his face, lighter skin peering out from under his already pastel shaded complexion. His eyes are focused on the floor, unable to look at me. The gesture crushes my heart to sand.

  "She's gone," Josh states, balling his hands into fists. I expect him to shout at me - to hurt me in ways I thought I could never be hurt - but he stays rooted to the spot. He is too weak to even move. "Aurora, Azra's gone, and she's never coming back."

  I watch my vision blur as tears prick at the corner of my eyes. All I can do is take numerous steps towards him, before taking his fisted hands into my bloodied ones. I pry his fingertips away from his palms, only to find that his claws had created deep gashes in the skin. I can only guess that it's to relieve the mental agony he is suffering.

  I shake his hands, grabbing his attention. His head shifts abruptly to mine, but it still droops.

  "Josh," I utter, squeezing one of his hands tightly. "I'm so sorry. I know how much she meant to you."

  Josh sniffs, diverting his gaze once more. "It hurts so much." The boy whines. As an immediate response, I pull him into a tight hug despite the fact that he's a head taller than me. He rests his chin on my shoulder, slotting together with ease. I release his hands, sliding mine around his thin frame as he does the same. I can feel them shaking behind my back before he squeezes me so tightly, it feels like he's broken at least two of my ribs.
/>
  "Shh," I whisper, closing my eyes as a salty water droplet escapes the threshold of my eye socket. "It's going to be ok."