Unmasked | Book 1 in "Dark Descendants" (Editing)

Chapter 32

P.S. Play BOTH the songs DURING THE READING. I mean it guys, for full story experience! ;)  Download them if u have to. And no complaining 'bout nothing important happening here. This is the aftermath of important crap.

~Rose

Damien was still at the coffin, holding the lid up as he stared down at) Diana's face. I was on the other side, doing the same. Every time I looked at her I seemed to relive the pain of waiting for her to open her eyes, waiting for her chest to miraculously rise and fall again. It gave me a lump in my throat.

"A beauty, she is." I turned at the new voice to be met with an overweight elderly woman. Her completely white hair was tied in a neat bun at the top of her head. Her bright blue eyes were crinkled, showing one of the few signs of her true age. She wore a large pale blue dress that flowed down to her little feet. Despite her age, she walked just fine if not a little slow. Her kind face was drawn to the pale white one in the coffin.

Damien hadn't turned at her voice. Instead, he gave a sad smile as if he knew the woman already. I suspected she was part of his pack. "Thank you, Mrs Underwood. She really was unique."

Mrs Underwood looked at my own pained eyes that now held a new curiosity in them. She offered me a smile. "You must be Rosemary. I'm sorry for your loss, dear. I was quite fond of her liveliness. She was the only one able to leave Damien here dumbfounded without getting punished."

I laughed dryly and put a hand on Damien's shoulder. "Yeah. Big bad Alpha was actually getting soft."

Surprisingly, he smiled at me and laid his hand on top of mine. He glanced back at Diana inside of the coffin. "I only wish I could tell her how I felt about her."

There was a long silence. "How did you feel about her?"

He didn't answer, but took something out of his suit-jacket pocket. I peered over his shoulder. It was photo of those two. Damien was actually smiling in Diana's presence, staring at the camera. He was covered in spaghetti and the red sauce slid down his face and clothes. Someone drew a sloppy mustache with sauce on his clean-shaved upper lip.

Diana stood next to him, a plate with only a few noodles left on it in her hands. She was unscathed and posing for the picture, two fingers held up and placed behind his head to give the illusion of a pair of bunny-ears.

I was shocked at how close they had become in such a short time. I hadn't known about their relationship. I supposed Diana had thought about the fact that they were stuck with each other and ended up trying to make the most of it. If you can't beat them, join them.

"I wanted to give her this," he said quietly. "To remind her of that day whenever things would get a little rough." He paused and seemed to reconsider. "OK, very rough." His eyes turned dark and he tucked the photo back into his jacket. "I guess it was for nothing."

"No, dear." Mrs Underwood gently turned him to look at her. His eyes softened at the elderly lady as he stared down. "All good things must come to an end. You can't stop caring about things in fear of hurting when they go. You must cherish the good times and keep them close to you. In here," she patted his chest, where his heart was positioned. "That will give you strength."

"She's right," I spoke up. They both looked at me. I rubbed my upper arm, staring past them as I remembered. "I learned that the hard way."

Damien nodded in understanding and, after a certain almost motherly woman stretching her cheek out to him expectantly, he pecked Mrs Underwood on the cheek and shut the lid of the coffin.

 "Funeral start's in two. Any of your friends still want to join, now is the time."

I glanced over my shoulder. Matt and Nate stood there in suits, the former talking with one of the pack members while the latter just paced around uneasily. Probably preparing himself mentally, or trying to keep his thirst under control. I had no idea where their sister was and I didn't care that much. Stoyan just stood there, also in a dark suit, seeming to chew on the inside of his cheek nervously. But aside from those three, no one else outside the pack came. I could always count on them, but still I felt a lonely whisper tugging at my heart. An empty feeling. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I answered him: