by Roxanne Lee
I looked at Sam, death swallowed his bright star. Seven hundred years of life bred hate and irrational ambition. He'd been right, no one should live forever. "No. You're owed nothing."
His palm slammed into the wall and broken plaster rained to the floor."What do you know? You're a CHILD!"
I nodded in agreement, to him I was child. "Maybe...but I know you're weaker than Carver. Why should you be given anything?"
His rage flowed and ebbed, turned and weaved to devour his reason. "I'll take what I'm owed." He rambled in his delusion.
My wolf blinked her tired eyes, lost in pain she couldn't handle, too young and newly birthed to handle such loss. The fire was all human in its inception, embers filled my eyes until they burnt contempt through the redheads flickering façade.
Carver was coming. He felt my sorrow and my anger. I felt his storm that built the flames higher, added gasoline to the already engulfing pyre. I wanted to peel this man apart, show his innards to fate and scream at her for her injustices.
But that's how I'd lost. That's how I continued to fail.
Sam would say, 'ain't nuthin' fair 'bout fate.'
And he'd be right. She didn't claim to be fair...only predetermined.
I'd stay right here. Laying beside the man I'd claimed as my own. Allowing my animal her grief, allowing the human her tears. Falling deep into anguish I couldn't lift a hand to hide. I'd leave this traitor to Carver, let him get his own revenge. I'd release those flames to burn and char the air, extinguish and die in puffs of smoke, snuffed out in a breath of stale breeze. And I'd stay, just where I should have been from the start.
With Sam.
Chapter 42.
This is where I lay.
In a bed of my own making.
One part monster and one part child.
A whole lot of anger wrapped up in wild.
A little bit worn, a little bit out of control.
A little bit blacker in the soul.
Sam’s face still seemed so alive. Even motionless, without that ever present smile, still he glowed when I looked at him. Maybe it's less the presence of life and more the persons worth that shone through even in death. I found myself reaching for his escaping essence, trying to steal a little of that light that hovered and glistened, awaiting pick-up for the world beyond. I'd take my piece, the little bit of himself he'd given me, I'd refuse to return it, keep it locked down and hidden away, a treasure for my eyes only.
Duncan’s ramblings had quietened, I assumed my lack of response had something to do with it. I can't imagine his great reveal lived up to his expectations, I cared not what his plans and deeds were, only that he'd destroyed what little love I'd known.
The less attention I paid him, the more irate I felt the air around me become. Thickening in its provocation, incensed and slipping that precariously held control. It seemed like hours had passed since I'd lost Sam, and yet it must have only been minutes. I still felt Carver's hurricane coming my way, lifting and hurling objects in his path. I still lay beside that old man, waiting only for Duncan’s next move. It built, in swirling seas of ferocious swells, that tide rising and falling, becoming dangerous in its fury. Duncan, like the shark circling deep within the murky water, flashed his teeth at my disregard. His animal breaching the skin and taking offence, showing his primitive dominance.
It was a flashy show I found I didn't have the heart to respond to. I stared blankly at the sharp teeth, blinking away his growl, closing my eyes to his posturing. I sighed deeply and turned away from the redhead, not wanting to look at his face. Carver was coming, he would finish this. And I would continue in my nothingness.
I felt confusion fill the air as Duncan’s growling animal cut off. No doubt he expected a bigger reaction, I'm sure he was surprised at my beast so quiet within. His footsteps pounded the carpet, heavy in the black military boots he wore. I allowed his steps to come within inches of my limp figure, I allowed his hand to grab my arm and I allowed him to drag me away from Sam’s body and pull me standing in the middle of the room. I'm not entirely sure why I reverted to allowing so much, maybe he was correct in saying he'd broken me. All I knew was that the connection between mind and body, the part that should have forced my hand to unleash it's claws, should have opened my mouth to shout my rage at him, seemed to be missing. I was watching the scene from behind a misted barrier, glass eyes and cottoned ears, I still understood everything that happened yet I couldn't find it within myself to care.
His rough and weathered hand wrapped around my neck and cut off everything but shallow breathing. His claws slid quietly and seamlessly through the tips of his fingers and I felt them tap and rest against my skin. Razor sharp and demon hard they scratched at the pale surface and left tiny rivulets of blood running through the cream. I felt the trickle as crimson ran down and left shivers in its wake and yet, still I hung from his hand, propped and slightly stretched on tip toes.
"Donae think Carver will be here in time lass."
A flicker in my eye registered his words. No, he'd probably be a bit too late. I'd left him too many bodies to sort through and he hadn't realised my emotions through this fragile bond quick enough. I wouldn't blame him this time, this act of giving up was entirely my own fault. I'm sure Sam would have yelled at me, probably even given me a swift kick up the ass. I'd apologise when I saw him, I just couldn't summon the strength I'd so relied upon this far.
"Didn't think it'd be this easy."
He was amused and disappointed. Probably relishing his own games while at the same time missing out on the fight he so enjoyed. He sighed as his hand clenched tighter and air became harder and harder to take in.
"It's alright lass, I'll make all the pain go away."
That sounded nice. I'd like to be pain free for a while, maybe float on some calm and quiet lake, let the cool water cover my ears and surround my senses in placid tranquillity.
His hand tightened further and I struggled slightly, some automatic response from the bodies lack of air. I felt panic in some distant place, furious panic that burnt and scorched and shouted at me to fight. Maybe it was the Captain who's every step brought him closer and yet not close enough to save my head should Duncan hear his oncoming roar.
My own wolf finally lifted her head, taking a peak, disturbed from her grief by that panicked anger. She didn't move a limb, didn't force her claws through like so often before. Instead she let out a mournful howl, a call for family lost and broken connections, a sound that brought tears I hadn't known I had left to fill my eyes and blur my vision. A little bit of that call made me smile, when all was lost and she found herself snowed under, buried in feelings she couldn't cope with, the animal turned to instinct and signalled to the other half of her soul, a wolf calling it's mate.
Carvers responding roar shook the building and I heard his heavy steps as he pounded gravelled grounds and blooded graves.
"Looks like we've run out of time." Duncan's grin widened, his pleasure in killing the Captain's mate obvious.
His claws pierced my skin and I felt every stab as pain morphed and expanded, taking over what was previously numb. A shadow moved behind Duncan, wider than the already huge figure the Scotsman presented. Taller by a few inches, almost on level with Carver.
I frowned at the shadow, my vision blurring and spotting as air cut off in one squeeze of Duncan's hand and my face heated and blood rushed to the surface. I caught a glint of steel, one long Damascus sword that caught the mornings sun and glittered gold over the pallid skin of the man holding my throat in his fist. The tip of that sword burst through the front of Duncan's chest, spraying wet fluid in my face and covering my gaze in red. My throat was released from its clamp and I choked deep breaths into my lungs, sucking up air as Duncan coughed and gurgled before me.
The sword pulled back, removed from his chest and dripping thick blood onto the carpet, joining with such heavy amounts already spilled this day. Duncan staggered to the side and revealed the shadow clad in black, eyes piercin
g in violence and face angled in fury. The Scot coughed a racking laugh, spitting blood on the carpet as his lungs released the influx through the hole now piercing them.
"Shoulda known it'd take more ta kill ya."
Charlie's face remained frozen in vengeance. His wild hair more beast than man and his serene aura replaced with fierceness so overwhelming it battered at my wolf and had her curling up in distress. I gasped for breaths with my damaged throat as that ferocity punched at the room and I sank under the weight of it.
"Ya feeding off me lad?" Duncan grinned in twisted pleasure, "Or the girl? I'm sure she'd like ta know how ya still breathing right now."
I flicked eyes to Charlie, his face remained impassive to Duncan's words, a marble shell that held only anger and projected only wrath.
"Shoulda gotten rid of you years ago, ain't right what you are."
Charlie smiled. One that made even my wolf nervous, darkly sinister and utterly without humour, it turned his chocolate eyes to pools of molten lava. He advanced on Duncan slowly, his sword swinging as he flexed his wrist in a falsely relaxed gesture. I heard the front door bang open and Duncan flicked eyes towards the sound. Carver's footsteps destroyed the tiled flooring and cracking followed every thud.
Duncan smiled at Charlie and lifted a hand in farewell. "Love ta stay but I have some things ta finish lad."
The brunette's face tightened in its anger and he pounced as Duncan flipped his bleeding figure through the window, leaving trails of crimson on the wall in passing. Charlie's roar resounded through the house and I winced at the echo vibrating my ears.
Carver and Lane pushed through the doorway as Charlie stood watching the retreating traitor.
I found myself snatched up from the floor I'd fallen too, drained and limbs weighted down by the wrathful beast's iron emotions. I watched blankly as Lane knelt by Sam and touched his forehead, a hand passing over his face and closing those brown soulful eyes for all time. A soft, gentle touch moved my head and feathering fingers passed over the tender skin of my neck.
"I'll get him, blood will be easy to follow for a while yet." Charlie's voice was rough with wolf still pushing through and demanding payment.
"No...I want him."
I looked at Lane and saw pain in his grey eyes. Betrayal from a man he'd seen as family, unabashed need to repair the trust he'd so desecrated between these four men.
Carver nodded at Lane, giving him the lead on Duncan's capture. The blonde turned and me and smiled sadly at my unblinking eyes.
"I'm sorry...bout Sam. He was better than...any of us."
The dam broke once more and the wolf howled within, starting the song of the dead for the pack to return. I hung limply from Carver's arms staring at his worried face as he tracked the tears flowing so easily and the gasping breaths that ached in my chest.
Lane and Charlie left the room as howls echoed from around the camp, a lilting song of respectful choirs.
Carver pulled me tighter into his warm frame and I raised my hands to cling to shoulders wide enough to bare the weight of all that pulled me down. He rocked me slightly, standing quietly in Sam’s bedroom and my despondent wolf found comfort in his arms. His whispers in my ear were mostly nonsense, words that held little meaning except to ease. My walls were crumpled, bulldozed to dust and ash. His final words were heard loud and clear without such blocks always in the way.
"I'm sorry I left you cherry, I'll never leave you alone again."
I was something new in this aftermath. For a moment I was something without guards, not hidden behind claws and teeth, not buried beneath anger and pain but something free of past atrocities and without such heavy constraints.
Just for this moment.
Chapter 43.
Lane had released Remy and Luce from their confinement in the kitchen. Their sorrow filled whines as they looked upon the lifeless figure of their owner, sniffing at the blood that stained the floor, nudging his arm as if he'd wake, just about caused my withering heart to die. I felt like I had failed them and I found it hard to look into those eyes without looking away in disgrace.
Carver had not moved from my side and I found I appreciated his presence while I wallowed, no one wants to fall so far alone and my misery sure loved company.
"You left me. All those years Carver, how do I move on from this?" My voice was quiet and strained, so many tears had left my throat raw. I'd seen such a pretty future for a moment, at times just for Sam and I, two dogs bounding along as we walked those woods surrounding his cabin. Once or twice I'd seen Carver, perhaps before the marking when we'd had some kind of understanding, maybe even after when I found myself looking at his glorious strength and realising under all my blame and mistrust there was a part that could have forced such hard won forgiveness, if only I allowed myself to.
He sighed as if the world sat heavy on his shoulders, maybe with the thought that I'd been told his mistakes before he'd had the chance to reveal them. "I don't know cherry. I hope you know that I only ever wanted to do right by you, I just wanted to give you time." He shook his head and stared at the mark on my shoulder as if he couldn't quite meet my eyes. "I'm sick with the thought that I left you there; I'll never forgive myself for that, and so I don't know how I expect you to."
Something settled inside me, a blanket of calm trapping the storm that used to rise so quickly."You didn't know...I understand that, I just..." I was finding it rather hard to explain myself without my normal accusations, it seems without blame I was somewhat lost for words. "...I've wanted to destroy everyone who had a part in this for so long, how do I just let it go?"
It's not like I expected a response, it was me working it through in my own mind, how to let go of everything that made me what I was. I had decisions to make and I was wavering between options. I could leave and never return, ignore the bond between us and attempt to push passed the incessant need that would eventually claw at me to return. I could submerge myself in revenge once more, open up and let the darkness in, kill the bond that I hadn't wanted from the start, if I could get passed the wolf's instinct to keep her mate breathing. Or I could listen to Sam one last time and give the Captain a chance, maybe his first real chance with a woman not so focused on killing her past.
Carver stood from the bed we sat on watching two dogs say goodbye to Sam. He walked towards the door and looked back before leaving the room, "We need to give him a proper burial, I'll get some men to help with his body."
I nodded my head, knowing that I couldn't just sit here forever staring at Sam’s figure on the floor. He hesitated at the door once more and I looked up when I didn't hear him leave.
"My life for yours Arya."
I frowned at him, not quite understanding what he meant.
"Whatever you decide I'll be following you. If you decide you need my life....so be it."
He smiled a little at me, it was a wavering, poor effort on his usual but one that made me believe he truly meant his offer. He left to retrieve guards, ones that would carry Sam to his final resting place. I moved from the bed to sit on the floor, creeping slowly towards Remy and Luce, hoping they'd accept my apologies, worried that they'd snap at me and I'd lose them forever too.
Loss is such an odd concept, one I thought I'd seen enough of. I'd revelled in my hate for many years, enjoyed every moment of hacking Daniel apart, had been so adamant in my right of retribution. Had thought forgiveness a weakness and a mentality that I wasn't able to embrace. Perhaps this is what I stir, a boiling cauldron of ruthless reprisal that simmers and stews...breeds nothing but more hate and contempt. Perhaps this is what I've done; engendered the black beast of ill will to return full circle and cast it's own retribution upon me. I could continue this circle, feed my own anger with more, I'm sure in time it will rise again and take over this numb melancholy that currently resides within. But what else am I prepared to lose? Should I continue on this path, a vigilante of torment, reaping my way through the wolf population, finding fault in all who challenge me?
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What am I prepared to lose?
Certainly not the dogs that slowly wiggled their way across the floor to find comfort in my frozen figure. Dogs that left their vigil by their owners side to cuddle into mine in our shared grief. Dogs that were now mine.
And maybe I'm not prepared to lose Carver either, however many mistakes he'd made so far, he was still and always would be my most ardent supporter. However crazy I became, however violent, it seemed he'd never turn me away. It was a freeing feeling, to know that I could succumb to the madness that forever lingered on the periphery and he would still want me. That I could find bliss in bloodshed and serenity in atrocity and he would always just wait on the sidelines and clean me up afterwards. It was like I could do no wrong, even when I was without doubt misguided. I liked the feeling; he put me on a pedestal, despite my....Unusual personality, and I doubt that, at least in his eyes, I'd ever fall off.
Two guards knocked on the door and bowed slightly to me as I nodded at them to enter. I stood from the floor and put a hand on each dog, leading them away from Sam. I gripped Luce tighter when he growled at the guards lifting Sam and carrying him away. I put my head to his as a final tear slipped passed my closed lids and whispered in his ear.
"I'm sorry."
There was a lot for me to apologise for; my selfishness, my lack of foresight. I hoped to spend a long time making it up to them, hoped to give them at least a life where they could be happy, if not the one they wanted.
Lane returned to the room as the guards left with their offer to the moon, a return of one of her finest.
"You ready?"
I looked up to his haunting eyes and took a deep, life affirming breath. It made me notice something...I was still alive, despite a few attempts to the contrary, and I should be thankful. I could not waste this gift, I may dislike fate and her many games but she'd bowed enough to leave me breathing, and I'd not throw away something that had been so easily taken from Sam.
I nodded at Lane and stood with the two animals beside me, taking up the detail on my protection. They were slower, slightly more damaged, but still as solid as ever. We formed a weathered group walking to the burial site, no doubt Carver had organised a glorious funeral for the man that touched so many souls.