by Ellis Marie
This is my fault.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“You ready?”
I look up from the picture clasped tightly in my hands and quickly wipe my cheeks dry. I don’t want to be caught crying anymore, it seems like it’s all I do, not just now, but my entire life.
My mouth opens, ready to say something light and disguised, but my throat swells and I silently close it again.
Kristie sends me a sympathetic look as she walks over to me and crouches down, taking my hand in hers while her other hand pats the sleeping dog that’s lying at my feet.
“I’d never felt like I didn’t have a family before,” I say softly, tracing my finger over the smiling faces in the photo. “But now, I’ve lost the only one that I knew, and she wasn’t even my real family to begin with.” My chest heaves. “Why do I keep losing everyone, Kristie?”
My best friend pulls me into her chest and squeezes me tight. I know she’s trying to stop the pain that I’ve been feeling for the last three days, but so far, nothing seems to work.
“I’m so sorry, Elle. You’ve been dealt the worst in life,” she mumbles, her voice breaking. “But I’m here for you, whatever you need.” She pulls back and looks me in the eye. “And so is Cam, we’re your family. Always and forever.”
The feeling of sorrow that hasn’t lifted since Mrs. Grenway died seems to ease a little at Kristie’s support. I can even feel my lip twitch at the kindness of them. I put the picture down on to my bed and sigh, the smiling faces of myself as a child, my grandmother, and Mrs. Grenway stare back at me—a life that now seems as though isn’t real.
How much I already miss her is indescribable.
“We need to get going or we’re going to be late,” I whisper, causing Kristie to shake her head.
“We’re here to support you. You take as much time as you need, everyone can wait.”
She brushes her hands over my dress and smooths out the wrinkles that have formed from my hands being wound up in the material and dabs under my eyes with her fingers, no doubt trying to fix what little makeup I have on my face.
“You know she’d shout at both of us if I let you go to her funeral with mascara running down your cheeks.” We both giggle at the idea, and I’m almost shocked at the noise coming out of my mouth.
“She would, wouldn’t she?” I smile softly and think of her wagging her finger at the two of us and going on about personal presentation and how she expects us to make an effort for her big day.
“And she’d probably talk about how our dresses were lovely and we needed to live a little and show some leg and have fun.”
Kristie and I both look down at our outfits and grin. It’s not as if we could do typical funeral chic for someone like Mrs. Grenway; she would have rolled her eyes at the sight of a mass of black being worn at the event. Instead, we are wearing clothes that have floral patterns—her favourite design and one that decorated pretty much all of her home. There isn’t a room that doesn’t have a wallpaper or furnishing without the bold and colourful petals of flowers from around the world all over them.
My dress is a blue pattern with pink roses over it, floating to my knees in beautiful silk material. Kristie’s dress is yellow with sunflowers and falls to the floor. She said that as soon as she saw them, she knew we had to wear them. I’m glad for them; I haven’t left the house in days, let alone go shopping. I don’t want to let Mrs Grenway down.
“You good?” Kristie asks, beginning to pull me towards the door. I nod, taking a deep breath. I’m never going to be ready to do this, so I might as well just take the leap and do it now.
“Let’s go.”
We leave my bedroom and begin to make our way through the hall, winding and weaving as we go. After the incident, it had all but been demanded that I move into the packhouse. I don’t even try to argue; it’s hard enough sleeping in a house full of people, let alone trying to cope by myself. It almost provides a comfort having so many people around me. Although I haven’t seen them really, I’ve holed myself up in the furthest room of the house and only let Kristie in regularly.
No one has bothered me; Scarlette had come in past and said hello but didn’t stay for long. I suppose I’m not much fun to be around, and she has to look after Cole, who still hasn’t woken up. They’ve put him in a medically induced coma until his limbs have all healed, and apparently, he’s showing signs of making a good recovery.
I suppose it pays to be a werewolf. You can recover from near-death situations.
We round the corner, and I see the mass of people outside standing around the large pyre. I suppose some people aren’t so lucky.
“Hey.” Cam comes forward and hugs me, my body sighing as he does. “You look brilliant. She would have loved it. Both of you.”
I smile at his words, grateful for him being there considering the location and how uncomfortable it makes him to be surrounded by the pack.
Chuckling, I run my fingers over the material of his tie, shaking my head. It’s made of a multicoloured fabric and is probably the ugliest tie I have ever seen, hands down. Cam follows my eyes and joins in the laughter, straightening it up dramatically.
“She bought this for me, I’ll have you know, and yes, it definitely is the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen.”
“You can say that again,” Kristie chimes in, shoving Cam before wrapping her arm around me and pulling me towards the back patio. “Now, let’s do this while our hearts aren’t so heavy and we’re making fun of her fashion sense or I’m not going to be able to do it.”
I nod in agreement and take Cam’s hand as we head towards people, my stomach curling.
There’s a lot of people here that I don’t recognise—some that are clearly from the pack but others that appear to feel just as out of place as me. A group of women over to one side catches my attention; their clothes are even more floral than my own and their hair has flowers braided through it as though they are living plants. They are beautiful, even when they are watching the wolves around them with hesitant eyes.
“This way.” Cam nudges me, motioning to the front of the crowd. I swallow the nerves that are building.
As we move through people, they bow their heads. Cam had told me it’s a sign of respect. I appreciate that they’re not coming up to me or giving condolences; I don’t think I could have handled it right now.
When we get to the front of the crowd, Cam hesitates beside me and before I can be confused as to why my skin pricks and my heart begins racing.
Trent.
He’s standing in front of me talking to Scarlette, his jaw clenched and his mouth moving rapidly. I can see the tension in his shoulders increase when my breath catches in my throat. He quickly turns around, looking right at me as relief seems to pass through him.
The relief halts when his eyes glance down at my hand in Cam’s, but he doesn’t say anything and just smiles at me as I approach him, holding on tight to my two best friends.
Has it been three days since I have seen him? It feels like a lifetime to me, and it seems to be the same for him. His eyes look tired, despite the bright orange tie that he’s wearing. It’s like he’s aged ten years in the days we’ve been separated.
He looks as bad as I feel.
“Elle.” He nods, giving my outfit a once-over. His fingers carefully touch the material, rubbing it between his fingers. “It’s almost cruel to put something as simple as a rose next to something as beautiful as you.”
It’s either his words or the sad smile that accompanies them that make my heart flutter, but either way, my legs shake a little. I have to stop myself from reaching out and touching him.
Do not break down.
This is why I avoided him. I know that just his soft gaze or his touch would render me powerless and my strength would wither. I don’t need him to see me like that, and a small part of me doesn’t want to lean on him right now. He has other things to worry about.
Do not break down.
“Would you like me to sp
eak first or you?” he asks, stepping back, and breath rushes back into my lungs at the space.
Thank god.
“I’ll go first,” I say without realising. Almost everyone looks surprised, but not Trent; he nods knowingly.
“Elle . . .” Cam begins. “Are you sure? If it’s too—”
“If I don’t do it now, I might not be able to,” I cut him off, lifting my chin. “And I have to do this. I have to say goodbye.”
Cam looks like he has more to say, but Kristie shoots him a look that stops him in his tracks as she gives my arm one last squeeze.
“We’re here if you need us, but I know that you’ve got this.”
The light chatter that surrounded us before goes silent as I step up onto the raised stage and look over the pyre with tears welling as I see it for the first time.
It’s hard to explain to Kristie why we aren’t having a normal funeral. I couldn’t exactly inform her that Mrs. Grenway was a witch and this is their tradition, so instead, I told her it’s how she wanted it to be after a trip to Asia. Kristie was quick to believe it; Mrs. Grenway was never normal.
The pyre is high and decorated in the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen—their petals creating what looks like clouds of colour above the body inside. She’s wrapped in light pink material, which hides the gruesome reality of the damage done to her underneath, but her face is visible. I have to stop the sob that tries to break through me when I see how serene and peaceful she looks. Her grey hair is pulled up into an elegant bun on the top of her head, and her face is dusted with makeup that almost makes her look like she’s glowing . . . or maybe she is glowing.
“You almost look younger,” I tease her, imagining her scoffing at me and hitting me for my cheek.
Is this really the last time I’m going to see her?
“Elle . . .” a voice quietly comes from behind me. I pull myself out of the dream I’ve fallen into, clearing my throat as I turn to face the crowd of people expectantly waiting for me.
I shoot Kristie a smile as she steps back again. I fumble into my pocket to get out the paper that has been crumpled in my hands a thousand times over the last couple of days. The writing on it is almost illegible, and my stomach drops as I realise that I’m going to have to speak from my heart.
That’s difficult to do when it still feels like it’s breaking.
“Sorry,” I say, hoping to not make eye contact with anyone. “I had planned what I was going to say, but I’ve changed it so much that I can’t even read it anymore, so . . .” I trail off as my head starts to pound. The feeling of needing to throw up itches at the back of my throat.
Oh my god, I’m not going to be able to do this, am I? I’m going to let her down.
Trent catches my eye, and I almost beg him for help, the panic rising up in me as my fingers start to tingle. He motions with his hands, telling me to take a deep breath. I follow his lead, not letting my eyes stray from his.
For a second, it doesn’t help, but then, like a gentle tide, calmness envelopes me and my breathing evens out.
I can do this.
“Some of you don’t know me,” I start, my voice shaking. “And most of you didn’t know Mrs. Grenway and you’re only here to support me, but if you knew one of us, then you knew the other.
“Mrs. Grenway was more than a neighbour to me. For a long time, we only had each other. I lost my grandmother and she . . . she lost Ernie, her husband. The two of us had always been close, but it was when we had no one else to understand, that we really saw each other truly. I wouldn’t be who I am today without her, and I know that there’s a piece of her with me every day.”
I look at all the people staring up at me, at Kristie’s tears that she’s trying to hide, and it just almost looks funny with the bright colours surrounding us.
“You’re probably wondering why we’re dressed like this, but we could never have worn black. Mrs. Grenway or Margaret . . . or Maggie, which you would only get away with calling her if you were really special.” There’s a laugh from Trent. I smile at him as some other people chuckle. “She was remarkable. She was so full of life that, sometimes, I had to wonder who out of us was meant to be elderly. She could entrance you with a story, or make you smile for hours just by listening to you. If you ever needed anything, she was there with a cup of tea and a sarcastic comment to make it all better.”
I look back at her sleeping figure.
“She saved my life . . . more than once. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t save hers.”
Images of nights where I would go to hers crying and hiding from my father are playing in my head. I can still hear her soft voice hushing me and putting me to bed after my grandmother passed. I would have been in a much darker place if it hadn’t been for her. I turn back to the crowd with tears falling from my eyes, and I have to close my own to contain them.
“She told me something once, something that changed my life. She told me: ‘Love is not about who you are without that person, it’s about who you are with them.’ And I was my best self when I was with her.”
I take a shaky breath as my chest tightens and my throat closes, my hands clasping each other in front of me.
“But I don’t know who I am without her, and I don’t know how I’m going to survive without her there to hold my hand. I don’t know why someone did this.”
I wipe the snot from my nose and quickly wipe my eyes too, trying not to fully break down.
“But I know that she would be shouting at me for even so much as thinking that, so I’m not ever going to think it again. Instead, I’m going to live my life the way she always told me to—to the fullest and with love in my heart.”
I step up and pick up the flower that’s waiting beside her, placing it gently onto her chest as I pull up the remaining material over her face.
“I love you, always.”
Trent meets me as I step down and offers me his hand to balance on. I take it gratefully, feeling how much my knees shake as I step back onto the grass. He kisses my hand gently and then passes me to Kristie, who is bubbling like a baby and being supported by Cam. I join them and turn to look at Trent.
“I only met Maggie a few times,” Trent speaks, surprising me with the softness of his voice. “Each time, I was more amazed at her than the last . . . and more scared of her too.”
The crowd laughs and I know that it’s his pack imagining him being scared of a little old woman.
“She was a force to be reckoned with, and she made sure that I was strong enough to look after the one thing that she still had on this earth that she really loved . . . well, aside from Obi, I’m sure. The first time that I met her, she told me something that will forever stay with me. She told me that no matter how strong or tough we think we are, we all need someone that can see the true us.” Trent looks up at me, and I can feel him looking at my soul, the shock at his words fading as I see the vulnerability that he’s hiding. “She told me that I’d found mine, and she was right.”
Despite the tears that are falling down my face and how splotchy my face must be and the sorrow that fills my bones, I feel exhilarated at his words.
When did she say that to him?
His face turns dark as he looks out to the crowd and lights the torch that’s perched on the wood. Behind him, the twins each have one too and go round to the other side, all holding them to the pyre together.
“She gave me something that I can never repay her for, but I’m going to try.”
The structure lights up quickly and the fire spreads over it rapidly, the flowers decorating it burning as it is entirely engulfed by fire.
“I promise that the people who did this will never get to feel the happiness that she felt, will never feel the love that she surrounded herself in. They will only know fear and pain and the way it feels to never be happy. I swear it.”
Anger resonates deep within me, taking place of the sadness that has been coating my skin. I almost feel like I should be scared of the man in front
of me, but it lights something inside me that brings back the fire in my belly. I begin to feel alive as I watch the smoke billow into the air.
I watch as Trent says something into the fire, but I can’t make it out, the roar of the flames too loud but his face is pained and his jaw tight as he does it.
Smoke catches in my throat, which distracts me from watching him, but before I can even cough, it’s gone and the air is clean; it smells like flowers around us and my eyes don’t burn as they should. The smoke now looks like it’s almost unnaturally going up in a tube, not splaying out to the crowd and the smell is almost heavenly.
“It smells like roses and lavender,” I whisper, smiling up at the sky as my heart swells.
They were always her favourite.
***
“It’s Annabelle, isn’t it?” a voice asks from above me.
I quickly stand up, brushing off the dirt from my dress as I look to see who has spoken. Obi stays lying at my feet and only raises his head to look at the women.
“It’s just Elle,” I tell them, shaking their hands. It’s the women that I have never met before, the ones with flowers in their hair and other extraordinary things laced through their clothes.
They are beautiful and almost unearthly.
Great, and I’m sitting here with swollen eyes and a runny nose.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, although you probably don’t remember us from the first time.” The woman who says this is tall and willowy, her ginger hair almost as thick as her, and her eyes are a sparkling green standing out against her fair skin. The two other women both have dark hair, one cut into a pixie cut and the other almost to her feet, but their faces are almost identical. They both have deep purple eyes.
“I’m sorry. We’ve met?” I ask, trying to recall when I have seen such stunning people. The woman just smiles softly while handing me a tissue.
“It’s quite alright, I’d be worried if you did remember.”
“Yeah,” the short-haired woman snorts. “It would mean that Tia’s magic was dwindling and then that would be bad for all of us.” She nudges the ginger woman who rolls her eyes.