Return Of My Wolf

Chapter Seven

Spending the afternoon with Storm was one of the happiest times of my life. It took a while to stop crying, and I eventually let go of his neck. Then we just laid in the middle of the grass, enjoying each others company in silence.

I spent the few days after with Destiny as she went through some werewolf history. Did you know, they live among us? I didn't. The pack house is mainly for the alpha and luna and is used for important meetings, large celebrations and pack training. Other than that, they all have their own homes, just like humans. They work and attend school too, like any other person. It took a while for me to get my head around the fact I could have met however many werewolves in my life. Its a little unsettling, if I'm honest.

We also went to my house to get some of my bits and bobs. Aldrich wants me to stay at the pack house to keep me safe, but from what he wouldn't say. Maybe they just don't trust me to keep their secret identity to myself. Not that anyone would believe me if I did say it. Werewolves only exist in fairytales after all.

I haven't seen much of Asher since that afternoon and this makes me sad, empty even. I don't know why, I have only just met him. But I feel a connection to him, it draws me to him, making me want to be close to him. Maybe that's because of his wolf, seeing as I've had a connection with him before. Either way, I don't like feeling that he's avoiding me.

I'm currently sitting in my room staring out the window at the woods. The suns out and it looks so warm and inviting outside, yet I can't bring myself to leave my spot. I trace shapes on the window with my finger, thinking about tomorrow and how much I don't want it to happen, but it must.

I let out a deep, drawn out sigh at the thought of burying my brother. It makes it real, that it wasn't a dream, that I will never see him again, never hear his laugh, never have him ruffling my hair or pulling shitty pranks on me.

I can't thank Destiny enough for organizing it all. She told me everything she was doing and all I could do was nod. It made me feel numb inside, I still do feel numb. The funeral will be held at a church near our old house, which is where the wake will be held after. It made sense to do this, considering his friend's will be there. Can't have them coming to the pack house now, can we?

A gentle knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. "Come in," I breath out quietly, hoping they didn't hear me so I can be left alone. No such luck though, as the door creaks open slowly, with Chad standing in the doorway.

He walks over to me and sits opposite me on the windowsill. I look at him from the corner of my eye, though he's not looking at me, he has his head leaning on the window and is looking out at the woods. We sit in silence for a few moments before he speaks, "how are you?" His voice is soft and sincere.

I let out a sigh and lift my head to look at him. I don't know how to answer. I'm numb, I'm trying to hold it all together, trying not to break down. I feel empty, like there's nothing left in me, no energy, I'm just existing.

He looks at me, worry shows on his features. He's silently willing me to tell him, but I can't bring myself to. So, all I will myself to say is, "okay," in a hushed tone, followed by a small smile. I can tell he doesn't believe me, but he doesn't push, for which I'm thankful for.

After a few more moments of looking at one another, he stands and places his hand gently atop my knee, giving it a small reassuring squeeze, before turning and walking towards the door, closing it behind him.

I wake up early, the morning light breaches my window and I squint at the intrusion. Today is the day I bury my brother, and I don't know if I can. I don't want to get up, I don't want to say that final goodbye. I just want him here with me, telling me that everything will be alright.

I look at the clock on the wall, it reads 5.30am. I groan at the thought of being awake this early, but, nonetheless, I throw the duvet off me. The coldness of the room bites at my skin, goosebumps appear all over. I shiver as I stand and make my way towards the window. There is a light coating of condensation on it, which I wipe away to look outside. A thin layer of mist covers the grass and reaches the woods, the sun is just starting rise above the trees. It's honestly a beautiful sight, and even on a day like this, it warms my heart a little and brings back fond memories of when my brother and I were younger and we would get up early, especially to watch the sun rise.

I decide to head out, and find somewhere to watch the sun rise, one last time, just me and my brother. I opt for an oversized jumper, over some leggings and, and tie my hair up into a messy bun, before I slip my shoes on my feet. I quietly head out of my room, I don't want to wake anyone up, and try to find a way to the top of the building, ideally the roof. This is the best place to watch a sun rise from.

As I wander silently around the halls and up stairs, I curse every floor board that creaks under my feet. Why does it all have to look the same? I'm on the last floor of the house, and at the end of the corridor is a door. The only one up here. So I rush towards it, turn the handle and open it to find an office. Everything is organised, neatly in its place, as though its never been touched.

I look around the room, and there in the ceiling is a skylight, directly above the desk. I take this as a sign and climb the desk, trying not to move anything out of place. As I open the skylight, I feel the morning breeze on my face, its cold but refreshing. I pull myself up through the hole and sit to the side. Pulling me knees up to my chest, I hug them as I start to see the sun rise above the trees. The colours are beautiful, different hues of pinks, oranges, yellows and a dash of purple.

I feel at peace.

The funeral was surreal. It didn't feel real, I didn't feel like I was there, standing next to the empty hole as the casket got lowered. I didn't hear the words that people spoke, didn't really notice anyone around me. I didn't cry, I didn't speak, I just stared at the ground, waiting to wake up from this nightmare.

Stepping out of the car, I look up at the house before me, my home. I can't go in, my feet are frozen to the spot, and its now, that my tears start to fall.

I feel a warm hand take hold of mine, I look at the owner and see its Chad. He gives me a small smile, sadness in his eyes, as he gently pulls me forward. I still don't move, my feet unwilling to enter the once happy home. He turns to face me, still holding my hand and pulls me into a hug, "I'll be with you the whole time, buttercup". He strokes my hair as I let out a small sigh, nodding my head as an answer. He pulls away, and when I tugs my hand again, I follow. Climbing the steps and entering the home, a wash of sadness hits me and I can't help but choke out the sob that I've been holding.

Everyone around gives me small smiles, as though trying to reassure me that its okay to cry. A few have tears in their eyes, rolling down their face at the loss of a friend. Some offer me their condolences, and I weakly thank them.

I release my hand from Chad's grip, and he looks at me with worry in his eyes, places his hands on my shoulders, searching my face for a hint of what's wrong. I place my hands on his, let out a smile to tell him I okay and nod my head. He reluctantly drops his hands.

I walk up the stairs, looking at the pictures framing the wall as I go. I know Chad is looking at me, making sure I'm okay, that I'm safe, and for that I'm grateful. The pictures are of happier times from my childhood. The whole family, mum, dad, Nate and I, just doing what families do. You know, picnics, parks, beaches and all that.

I reach the door thats already open. Piles of clothes are strewn around the floor, posters adorn the walls, and the bed still unmade. Nate's room.

It brings me comfort being here, but at the same time I'm overwhelmed with grief. My heart breaking bit by bit in my chest, into tiny pieces, like glass shattering against a wall.

I pick up a discarded jumper from the floor, it still smells like him. I used to tease him about the strongness of it, but now I'm glad it still lingers.

I climb onto his bed, curl myself into a ball and hug the jumper as tight as I can, before letting all the sadness flow out of me.