I remember a day like this all too well.
I’m standing outside and it’s sunny, but I think the sun didn’t get the message that today was supposed to be a day of mourning, because it’s beams are so bright that you’d think it was smiling down on you – a blinding, burning smile.
It’s a bit warm outside, but everyone is wearing long-sleeved and dark clothes, further capturing the hot sun in their bodies. I’m also wearing black, one of Bea’s old clothes that fitted me a bit too perfectly. She told me I could keep it, and seeing as I hardly had any clothes for myself, I agreed.
Crowds of people mill amongst themselves, murmuring condolences and patting each other on the back. Some of them are crying. Others are just staring at Helene’s casket blankly. I can’t see what they’re thinking about, or hear any of their thoughts, which irritates me, because as Luna, you would think that I should be able to do those things, just like Jackson, but unfortunately, I can’t, so I’m stuck with just creating assumptions in my head about what’s happening.
Helene’s death has rocked the pack, it seems. I heard one wolf mention that she’s the first murder in a while, which further enlarges the lump in my stomach. Bea’s words sort of haunt me, and even though she’s apologized profusely since then, I can’t get them out of my mind. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t shown up, Helene would still be alive.
Why can’t you do anything right? Alpha Banastre’s words come back to haunt me, a bone-chilling whisper than runs down my spine. You’re just worthless, Anvi. A worthless little bitch. That’s all that you’ll ever be, you know?
I know, I remember myself saying, and nothing’s changed since then. Helene’s death is my fault. I’m the reason that she’s gone. I’m the reason that her parents have lost a daughter. I’m the reason that a wolf is mateless. I’m the reason that she’ll never get to see her family grow.
I’m trying to keep myself from crying, because that’s such a babyish thing to do, but I can’t help it. It’s like I’ve fought the feeling for so long and every time I push it back it comes up harder. It’s like when I used to swallow my vomit, thinking that it would somehow evaporate in my stomach. Then I would be confused when I woke up five minutes later vomiting a torrent of digested food.
Around the pack square there are poles that connect with wooden logs. They create a little open circle around the concrete octagon that Jackson mentioned was for parties and dancing, and wrapped around them are chrysanthemums, Helene’s favorite flower. I can’t help but snort. It suits the mood.
Two years ago I was in this position, except I was the young girl crying by the two caskets and not the heartbroken mother I see right now. It dampens my heart to see how distraught she looks, and I can’t bare to approach her. She has no idea that I’m the reason her daughter is dead, and I don’t think a confrontation at the funeral would be any good.
When my parents died the day was just as bright as today is. I remember how angry I was at God. I cursed her to hell and back for celebrating on my parents’ funeral day. Of course, nobody in my pack really cared. They held the funeral because they had to. It didn’t mean that they had to try and be sorry for me. They pitied me, sure, but it was a malicious sort of pity. They realized that the pity they held for me could be manipulated in their favor, and I fell right into their hands.
I wore one of my mom’s dresses – a sequined, flowy black dress with a black rose just above my breast. When I was little I used to love spinning in that dress and playing princess. I would be Cinderella and I would pretend to sweep for my invisible stepmother and stepsisters. I would sit in front of my closet and pretend to cry as I waited for my Prince Charming. He would appear, then, suddenly, thin with a bristled bottom, and we’d dance the night away in circles around my room, forever and ever (or, until my mom called me to dinner).
Nobody cried at my parents funeral – nobody except me. They all just stared while the Alpha of my pack spat out some stupid speech about how my parents made a big impact on the pack and how they’ll always be remembered, which was a load of crap because as soon as he could, Alpha Steven ditched my parent’s ashes in the ocean before I could get them to keep. It was that same day that my status as a slave and omega was solidified in the pack, and there was nothing I could do and nobody to protect me from that fate.
And now, with my memories crawling down my throat towards my stomach, I stood anxiously on a crudely built podium, waiting for Jackson and Ben to arrive so we could begin the ceremony. Bea stands beside me, tapping her stiletto shoes on the creaky floor that we’re standing on. We talked a little before, but now we’re both quiet.
“Hey,” Jackson’s breathy voice comes from behind me. It tickles my skin at how warm it is and I don’t even feel myself jump.
“Hey,” I don’t turn. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Jackson takes a few steps in front of me and I see his eyes run over me for a moment. I stare at his face, keeping my gaze on him until he meets my eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your feelings…” he hesitates. “They’re very conflicted, Anvi. I feel so much sadness from you. Is everything okay?” He takes my hands. “You know that you can talk to me if you need to, right?”
“I know,” I whisper, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Bea smiling gently at me. “I’m okay. I was just…remembering something, that’s all.”
“Okay.” Jackson hesitates, then he leans close to me. His lips brush right under my ear and plant softly on my cheek. Immediately, my stomach curls and I let out a soft gasp.
“We’ve gotta start the funeral,” he says, and with reluctance he pulls away from me. Once again, he looks over me, then he falls into step with Ben, who’s passing by, and they both walk to the microphone that’s standing a few feet away from Bea and I.
“That was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen him do,” Bea’s voice murmurs close to me, and when I turn, she’s suddenly right beside me, grinning from ear to ear.
“Really?” I try not to stammer. Jackson taps the microphone and begins with his introduction, and I lower my voice. “It was?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Bea beams brightly. “He’s such a softie around you, but it’s nice to see that side of him, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“He always has to be this tough, unbreakable Alpha King,” she says, motioning to the tall, proud stance Jackson has taken as he rouses the pack to avenge Helene’s death. “But with you, he relaxes so easily and he’s allowed to show this more vulnerable side to him. I mean, affection in public? Overtly showing his worry for you, or for anyone else?” She shakes her head. “You’re a miracle, Anvi.”
“It’s only been two days,” I mumble, my cheeks so hot I think that they’re hotter than the sun.
She smirks. “I don’t think days make a difference,” she says.
And she stops talking, her gaze fixated on Ben as he and a few other army students lower Helene’s body into the funeral pyre. Jackson has stopped talking and the priest has begun to speak. A few boys hold Helene’s mate back from running to her body, and my heart sinks for him. I know the pain of losing family, but losing a part of your soul? It’s the most painful thing to ever happen to a wolf who’s lost a mate, from what I’ve heard.
Blue wisps float up from Helene’s burning body, a symbol of her soul returning to the Moon Goddess. Her mate reaches out, jumping as if to catch them, but his friends hold him back, and he cries out loud, a desperate plea for his mate to come back to him. It shakes the earth and shakes my heart too, but I know that there’s nothing I can do about it. Gosh, what kind of Luna Queen is that? Someone who brings the death of their own pack member?
I think Jackson has an inkling of my thoughts, for as the body finishes burning and the wolves begin to scatter – some going to say final goodbyes and others heading home with their children – he comes back up to me and puts his hands on my shoulders, except he hesitates a moment before, like he’s not sure where to put them or if he’s allowed to touch me.
“I have to finish up some paperwork and do some rounds.” He sounds regretful, but I have a hard time concentrating on what he’s saying because it’s just now that I’m getting to look at how extremely handsome he looks in his dark black suit. Ties suit him, I decide, but I make sure to snap my eyes up to his, even though I can see amusement dancing in those dark grey eyes or his.
“Oh…okay,” I say. I glance behind me and see Delia and Bea talking to each other. “I’ll…find something to do in the meantime, then?”
He nods. “Yeah, I’ll…” he pauses. “I’ll try to finish as soon as I can, okay? Then maybe…we can do something? Together? I know…this probably isn’t how you thought of your first week in the pack to be like.” He sighs. “I’m sorry, Anvi.”
“Hey.” I hesitate, then place my hand on his chest, right above his thumping heart. “Don’t be sorry. It’s your job. I won’t keep you from that.” He opens his mouth to argue, but I speak quickly. “I’ll be fine, and I’m okay. I know things…happen…” I trail off. “But I’ll be here if you need me, or if the pack needs me.”
Jackson seems to think about it for a minute, then he smiles and nods. He bends down and presses a kiss to my hand.
“Alright,” he murmurs, his voice too husky for his own good. “I’ll see you later, Anvi.”
Again, he hesitates, then he lets go of my hand and turns back to the pack, making a beeline for Helene’s parents. They’re waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, and I decide that instead of going inside, I’ll introduce myself to some of the pack members and make my intentions known so that they don’t think I’m some weird girl just leeching off of Jackson.
“It’s a sad day today, isn’t it?” Delia asks me when I approach her. Her eyes are glowing in the sun, a bright mystical hue that contrasts with her usually dark figure, and it accentuates the sadness that emanates from her body.
“Yes, it is,” I agree softly, looking around the pack. “Um, Delia?”
“Yes?”
“Do you…think it’s a good idea for me to go introduce myself?” I ask. “I mean, even after what happened…”
Delia hums. “I think it would be a good opportunity for the wolves here to know their Luna Queen,” she says. When I nod, she looks at me again, regarding me carefully. “You…you can’t possibly think that Helene’s death is your fault, do you?”
“Well, I-!”
“Hey, Delia! Anvi!” Adonis bursts in from behind us, grabbing us both by our shoulders and propelling both us and him foreword. Delia and I yelp and Adonis chuckles.
“Be careful, Adonis!” Delia admonishes. “What if one of us got hurt?”
Adonis shrugs. “You’d have survived,” he says, and turns to me. His bubbly eyes take me in for a moment then snap up to my face, grinning. “Isn’t today such a great day?”
“W-What?” I choke. “Adonis, are you serious? This is a funeral!”
“Eh, whatever,” Adonis shrugs. “Everybody dies. It doesn’t make much of a difference to me.”
“Adonis!” Both Delia and I exclaim. How can he say that? Somebody was literally just killed! Does he have no care? He’s definitely not like his brother, that’s for sure.
“Whatever, you girls are so sensitive,” Adonis scoffs. From his breast pocket, he pulls out a small, folded paper, and it’s then that I realize that he’s dressed exactly like Jackson, except his tie is a blood red color, just like the edges of the paper he hands to me.
“Here, I found this picture on your desk, so I figured it must’ve been something for you, or something that you were supposed to be given, or…whatever.” He presses the old photo into my hands, and before I can say anything, he jogs away, waving down a group of boys and girls who seemed to have cared less that there was a funeral happening.
“That boy…” Delia clicks her tongue. “I’ll have to give him a beating later.”
I giggle. “Can you do that?”
Delia smirks. “Believe it or not, but I have both Jackson and Jackson’s mother’s approval.”
My grin widens as I peel the photo open. “Wow. That’s really cool! You must be special, then.”
Delia blushes. “Oh, I don’t think so…”
“Oh, yeah?” I laugh softly, and inside my heart pinches a little for laughing during a mourning time, but I can’t help it. I do sober myself quickly though, and as the picture opens to reveal itself, I feel my heart grow cold.
In the photo is obviously Jackson, Cannon, and June, except both June and Cannon look a bit younger than when I saw them at the meetings. They’re standing in fancy clothes right in front of a flower arch that seems to be somewhere in the pack. But it isn’t them that catches my eye.
It’s the girl next to Jackson.
She’s nestled comfortably into his side. He has his arm around her and her head is resting on his shoulder. My heart squeezes uncomfortably. They fit perfectly together. Same height. Same smile. Their clothes are even of the same color scheme!
The girl, she’s beautiful! She looks just like me, which is not my way to inflating my ego by saying that she’s beautiful – she really is. She has dark silky hair and mesmerizing eyes. She’s slim and neat and while I can’t really gauge her emotions through a picture, I can tell how happy she is, and I can also tell how happy Jackson is with her, which only serves to inflate my discomfort.
“Anvi?” Delia must notice my eyes watering. “What is -oh.” Her voice softens. “It’s-!”
“Cannon and June’s daughter,” I say hoarsely, and for a moment, the voice that speaks doesn’t sound like me. “Jackson’s first mate.”
~****~
Hey guys!
What do you think? Helene’s funeral has taken place and Anvi puts all the blame on herself. We don’t see a lot of Bea and Anvi interactions, but we will soon! And there are also some moments between Jackson and Anvi, but I promise, they will get more romantic as the chapters go on 😀 Also, we now know that Jackson had a mate previously! But what happened to her? Will Anvi tell Jackson her discovery? Will Jackson come clean on his own?
