by Hana Blue
I cringed as the memory of her laying there on the ground clutching my baby sister whom was still in her womb, crying out in pain from broken bones. The memories of a frighten child who was powerless.
I winced, then looked back to her, only to find her still staring at her hands. “You know what needs to be done, don’t you?” She finally mutters under her breath regretfully. “It’s true that she is one of the beasts, right?”
I nodded slowly, a faint, sorrowful smile played on my lips as a wordless response to her question. Both of them.
“You know Dominic, this is never what I wanted for you. I never once thought you would ever be mated to one of them. I just don’t understand how fate could be so cruel and twisted. There are so many sweet girls in our pack that you could have been mated to, but no, they mated you to a beast. I’m so terribly sorry, baby. This isn’t fair on you.”
She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight. I reached out and placed my hand on her shoulder gently. My hand engulfing it. I hoped that the gesture would reassure her, but it was also for me. It was a comfort to know that she sympathized with me, that she understood that this was a hard decision to make.
“I don’t think I can kill her mom.” I finally muttered. I closed my eyes and let my words roll through my mind. Hearing them over and over, finally feeling the strength that they carried. They were more than just words, they were the sad underlying truth of everything.
A verbal confirmation of my fears since I first felt my pull towards her. I wasn’t able to. I don’t think I ever could. The bond, the one I never asked for but was given anyway clouded my mind unlike anything I had ever felt, leaving me feeling almost powerless up against her, no matter how hard I fought it. The minute I got close to inflicting serious damage on her, I felt a pull on myself, stopping me.
“Then you need to lose the bond completely.” My mother replied, looking at me with a now stoney expression. There went all of her sympathy and concern. “You can’t kill her as long as it bonds you to her, but without the bond, you would have no problem. You need to rid yourself of it. Or I will have to,” she muttered, looking away for a brief moment.
I swallowed hard. I didn’t realize that was something that you could do, but something told me it would be done with magic, or a power that I wasn’t all too fond of. A type of work that I’ve tried to stray away from, but I knew my mother was right, and maybe this was my last option.
“Ok, so how do I get rid if it, so I can kill this bitch?”
“Outside of our territory, there is a woman who can help. I don’t know exactly where she is, other than that she is outside of the territory line, in blood born territory. She is a witch, rumors have it the witches have helped the blood born for centuries past, and I’m sure she can help you.”
I rose to my feet, irritated. Dusting off the dirt from the back of my pants. “I’m not fucking with no witch!”
She looked up at me with an understanding expression, then rose to her feet as well, straightening out her dress. “You have no more options. We came here to rid the land of these abominations, your father died for this cause, don’t you dare put some stupid notion of hating witchcraft between your and your duty as our alpha. It is on your shoulders to keep our pack safe! Marking a beast does not protect us in any way Dominic. You just gave a monster the right as our Luna and set us all up for failure. Think about that.”
She smoothed her hair and shot me one last commanding look, one only your mother can give you, and changed. Taking off down the mountainside like a giant ball of cotton floating through the air. I cupped my mouth in my hand and drew in a deep breath.
“A witch.” I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.
Morning was now in full swing around me, and the daylight shone bright. My mind was tired, my body was tired, and emotionally, I was spent. After an interminable night of sending not one, but two different women running out of that alley in tears, hiking up this mountain, marking a damn monster, and that not so lovely conversation between myself and my mother had left me drained.
I plopped myself back onto the ground, leaning myself back to lie down, propping my head up with my hands that were clasped behind it. I let myself drift off to sleep, enjoying the breeze that flowed over the skin of my face, listening to the soft sounds around me.
Leaving me without worry for a slight moment, at least until I started to dream. Beautiful red eyes peering up at me with fear, filled with tears. Long, midnight locks soaked with blood flowing around on the surrounding ground. And with parted lips stained crimson, her soothing voice lets one quick phrase roll from between her lips with betrayal.
“Dominic, why?” Her eyes flutter shut, and her last breath released. The gentle, scarred form of this woman lies on the ground before me. My mark scarred there into her soft flesh.
I desperately grab her, lifting her like a bride, her body limp in my arms. I cry out into the sky, regret filling me as I look down at her. My soul slowly leaving my body, being taken away by the icy wind that surrounds us. Darkness floods in and the only thing I can see is her lifeless body. A ghostly glow emanating off of her and her alone. I desperately try to shake her, screaming at her to wake up. Pleading and crying.
I pull her closer to my chest only to find her warmth gone. Frantically I pet her hair, rocking her in my arms. Praying that she would open her eyes. Praying I could feel the soft rise and fall of her chest against mine, but it never came. This nameless woman that held more beauty and strength than I had ever seen before, bleeding there in my grasp, because of me. My heart screaming out for her, a hollow empty feeling taking over leaving me nothing but a shell.
I watch as the wind picked up in force turned the woman into ash, taking her with it. Like the skies of Pompeii after the eruption, the surrounding air filled with the ash that once was her. I desperately grab at it, hoping that I could pull her back from it, leaving my hands covered in the grey soot.
Gone. In the wind she was gone, taking me with her. I dropped to my knees and cried, my chest aching and my eyes burning. I killed her; I killed myself.
Cracks start to line my face, and pieces fell, exposing the emptiness of the being I was. No soul to hold the pieces together, and as my body crumbled to the ground in thousands of shattered pieces like a plate that had been smashed. I awoke.
The afternoon sun beating down on my face and sweat pooling on my brow. It was different. The dreams of this woman dying, taking a sharp turn. Was it because I marked her? Was it because I had a small connection to her I didn’t before? Why would my dreams take a turn of regret like that?
I needed to get rid of it; the bond needed to be killed. There was no other way around it. If I was to overcome this, I needed to to get rid of it. With the pull between us broken I could kill her, I could do what I’m meant to. They raised me with the power and the training to protect my pack from her kind. It was my lot in life, a lot I needed to fulfill. To avenge my father, our elders. To finish the quest, my mother started coming here.
Eight
The Few & The Strong
Aine~
A few days later.
I sat there at the table holding a coffee mug in my hands, letting the steam warm my face, enjoying its comfort from the cold that now was creeping in. Winter coming quickly. Slowly I lifted the grey, porcelain mug up to my lips and took a sip before setting it back down on the table. I stared down at my reflection in the dark liquid, watching as my face rippled from the motion of the coffee.
A feeling of great worry swirled around in my gut, a worry that I knew wasn’t mine. The last few days I had felt it. All the emotions and pain of the man who’s name I now know to be Dominic. I felt a pang of pity in my chest. Feeling the emotional turmoil he was experiencing, I felt for him. From what I could tell, this poor man was nothing short of miserable, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of me.
My nights had become even more sleepless as nightmares dredged up into my consciousness. Nightm
ares of this man, lost in a sea of ash, pleading into the sky. I didn’t know why, but all the dreams were broken and incomplete. But I could feel the desperation and heartbreak that pulsed through his veins. I was always watching from the outside. I would reach for him, but he couldn’t see me. I’d call to him, but he never heard me. Every fiber of my being fought to help him, to help ease the agony he was in, but I couldn’t. It left me to watch him suffer; myself suffering with him.
Although I relished the fact all the excruciating pain I had been experiencing for months before was gone. I couldn’t say that feeling his own personal agony was any better. I would much rather fight off physical pain than mental pain. I lifted the mug again, taking another slow sip, closing my eyes. I let out of a sigh as I set it back down and unlaced my fingers from the handle.
Looking down at the reflection in the brown liquid again, I ran my hand over the now healed mark marring my skin in yet other place. Letting the pad of my thumb run over it, I couldn’t help but feel discouraged. I know that I wasn’t like most girls; I didn’t grow up planning my dream wedding, imagining my price charming, or even wondering what love would be like. I had an unconventional upbringing, and those types of notions never had a place in all of it.
However, I had always seen what I would honestly call the beauty of finding your mate. Seeing the girls around me afterwards flaunting their marks like a brand new chain of diamonds. Their faces glowing, their mate by their side staking claim. I would be lying if I said I never wondered what it would be like to be one of those girls, to be beaming and proud because of their soul being complete.
But like most things that I had ever wondered, I always got the darkest version of them all. My kind may not be cursedthe way others have always believed, but I was damn sure that it cursed me in some way regardless. Cursed to be without the simple joys, the simple freedoms. Cursed to never truly experience the things that make life worth living, without an impressive deal of sorrow following them.
Frustrated, I shook my head as if that would rid my mind of the thoughts. I didn’t have the time or the luxury of having pity for myself. I just didn’t. It was my duty to be the beacon of strength, the shoulder for those who needed, and I couldn’t very well do that if I was lost in my own pity party. I scooted my chair back and rose to my feet, scooping the mug up as I made my way back over to the coffeepot to refill my personal fuel.
“Yes! I smell coffee.” Caireen’s voice groggily cheered as she entered the kitchen.
She pushed next to me, jokingly wiggling her hips around like she was trying to find a cozy place next to me, and opened the cabinet grabbing her favorite mug. She took the handle in her hand and pushed it towards me like a toast.
“Fill’er up please.” She asked with a smile.
I finished filling my mug, then lifted the pot over to her to fill hers. She let out a great full groan as she clutched the now full mug in both of her hands, pulling it towards her chest. She took in an exaggerated breath, letting the aroma of the coffee fill her nose.
“Thanks.” She padded over to the table, the flopping song of her slippers against the hard wood chorusing around her, and I followed. My bare feet making no sound as I made my way to sit across from her. “So how long are we going to be staying there this time?” She muttered as she took a sip.
I shrugged my shoulders, running my finger along the rim of my mug slowly. It had been almost two years since we went back to the place we called home for a while. I missed it there, the family that came with their pack, the sense of normality that it brought. I would never let us join their pack, but they were always so welcoming and warm towards us.
They took care of us when we needed, and for that I will always be grateful. Now had come a time again, where I would need to return for help. Help that could only come from their Alpha, a man who understood us more than anyone on this side of the world ever could. Because he was like us. Partially, at least. I still had yet to explain to Caireen why we were going back, I figured I would when we were there so she wouldn’t run.
Although we had mended, I know what she saw still haunted her a little. I’ve seen her a few times standing out in the yard in her wolf form looking full of sorrow. No doubt trying to wrap her mind around what came with that form. She always used to say that we were the most beautiful of the wolves when she was younger. She was proud of how different we looked, how our black fur made us majestic and beautiful. I sense that she has a different opinion of it now.
Honestly, I hope that love will come back one day, because I relied on her positivity too. I always wished I could have been born some other kind, or even just a human. And when she would boast about our beauty, and how unique we looked, it helped me believe it too. Slowly over the years, I believed it as well. But now. Knowing that unique “beauty” came with a ghastly and horrid form, taints it more than you could believe.
“Aine, are you even listening to me?”
I looked up from my mug, my finger freezing there on the rim. I blinked at her, trying to recall anything she had just said, but I couldn’t. I had zoned out again, losing myself in the thoughts of why, what if, and how come?
“Sorry, what?” I asked, shaking my head, giving her an apologetic smile.
She took another sip and giggled. “I said that I’m excited to go back, it’s been so long and I’ve missed my friends there.”
“Yeah, I do too.” I muttered in agreement, on the verge of zoning out again.
Caireen snapped her fingers at me playfully and stood. “Why don’t we get dressed, then get on the road before you zone out again. Ok?”
She grabbed her mug and rinsed it at the sink before exiting the kitchen. I rose to my feet, mimicking her, leaving my mug there on the counter. “It’ll be good to go back.” I said to myself reassuringly.
I made my way up the stairs to my room, listening to Caireen’s soft singing that came from behind her door. I smiled as I passed by it to my room at the end of the hall. Being as we were to be traveling most of the day, I decided what I would wear didn’t matter. I scooped up my favorite jeans that I wore yesterday from the floor and tugged them up over my hips, wiggling myself around to adjust. Then I stepped over to my closet, grabbing a pair of socks from the drawer and pulling them on.
I scanned the clothes in my closet, looking for something casual I could wear to cover up the fresh scar I wore on my skin. I sighed and pulled a shirt down; the hanger flipping off the rod onto the floor. I pulled it on, a thin Mach neck shirt, with long sleeves matching the color of my hair that I braided off to the side of my face.
I turned to face the mirror and nodded. “Normal enough.”
I grabbed my bag from the floor and slung it up over my shoulder and left my room. Caireen’s singing was now gone, leaving me to assume she was ready to go. I peaked into her room as I walked by, the door now open. No Caireen. At the foot of the stairs I saw her pulling her shoes on, her bright purple backpack at her feet.
“You ready?” She chirped out, looping the laces of her shoes around, tying them.
I nodded, plopping my bag down on the hall bench beside her, and took a seat, grabbing my boots and pulling them on. I tugged on the laces, looping them around up to my ankles before tying them off. Rising to my feet, she pushed my jacket at me, the leather smell wafting through the air. She smiled as I took it from her hand and shrugged it on.
“You good to drive? Or are you going to keep zoning out?” She asked with a giggle. Her ever-present smile there to grace her words.
“I’m good now.” I replied, punching her shoulder.
Locking the door behind us, we left the house making our way to my car. We loaded the trunk with our bags and I slammed it shut, only to have it pop back open a little. Leaving Caireen to laugh, throwing her head back. Her joy and amusement from the smallest things was contagious, so I laughed with her. Letting an infinitesimal amount of joy fill me.
“Don’t just stand there, help me shut this damn thing.” I pointed at
her playfully.
She nodded, then came and stood next to me, placing both hands palms down on the trunk.
“1…2…3..” She sang out, and on three we punched down.
With a slight click the trunk locked, and I let out a relieved sigh. Leaning over the trunk, I laughed. Enjoying the bit of humor that came from it. It wasn’t often that I felt genuine joy. But something about the feeling of going back to a place I felt truly at home, and the gentle aura around Caireen gave me a moment of peace to just be. Happy?
* * *
About an hour and a half away from our destination, Caireen and I hadn’t stopped talking yet. The radio played softly in the background, just barely audible over the sound of the car’s engine. Laughter filled both of us as we talked about everything and nothing. Making a three-hour drive feel like nearly minutes. I was basking in the light-hearted feeling that fell thick in the car’s cab. It was like time drifted away, and all worry and memories were gone. It was just me and her again.
No fears, no reservations in the back of our minds, just two sisters on a small trip enjoying each other’s company.
“You realize that it’s not a hickey right?”
I took my eyes off the road for a minute to look at her, confused. Unsure of what she was talking about. She reached over, tucking her finger in the taller fabric around neck, pulling it out before letting it snap back softly.
“It’s not a hickey, you can’t just hide it until it goes away.” She laughed a little, crossing her arms playfully in front of her. Jokingly demanding a response from me, shifting her eyes back and forth.