The Unfortunates | COMPLETED

Part 3

The next day is dull. 

Clouds hang over the pack, and everyone looks at the sky fearfully. 

Avery can't bring herself to get out of bed. 

It's like this every time it's cloudy.

The day she turned twenty-three, there was a historic storm. 

That storm marked the occasion and realisation that Avery Wilcott was mateless. 

York and her parents checked in on her, but they all know - it's best to leave her alone when she's like this. 

The sadness sat in her chest, and she felt defeated. 

This is what the problem was with being Unfortunate. A mate bond helped to prevent negative overwhelming emotions. Without one, you were entirely left to your own devices. 

She sat up, bored of staring at the ceiling, that emptiness still there. 

It was always there, she supposed, but being surrounded by people helped. 

She scrambled through her bedside table drawers, searching for the medicines she was given for these moods. 

She dry swallows two tablets, wincing as they ease their way down.

The day passes exactly like that, with Avery sitting in silence and staring at the surrounding four walls.

Eventually, a knock startles her out of her trance-like state. 

"Come in," she calls, her voice cracking from lack of use.

A small, purple-haired lady pops her head in, a pitying look on her face as she pops into the bed beside her niece. 

"Hello poppet," she beams, wrapping her arms around the girl and squeezing her, "I hear you're down in the dumps today."

Avery nods, having little energy to argue. 

"We're going to go see the kids - they have so much energy that some of it has to rub off on you, dear," she whispers, gently easing her niece out of bed, just like she does every time.

"Does it ever get better?" Avery asks faintly, staring at herself in the mirror. 

Faye avoids her eyes, pulling a sunflower print dress out of the wardrobe and throwing it at her niece.

"No, but you learn to live with it," she says quietly, fishing out a pair of black boots from a drawer and putting them beside the bed.

The walk to the pack orphanage is quiet, with Faye leading Avery along.

Avery stares vacantly ahead of her, entirely unaware that she is the subject of conversation for some of those watching

"This can't keep happening," York says grimly, looking at his father as they both watch from the windows of the mansion. 

"I know. But she's doomed to be like this. She doesn't have a mate, and she won't ever have a mate," he sighs, "she told me last week that she's as useless as a human. All she can do is shift, and she's doing that less now."

York rubs his attempt at a beard and shrugs. 

"We could always try to set her up with someone?" He suggests, and Richard shakes his head, shooting his son an irritated look.

"Everyone else has a mate, and if they don't, they don't want an Unfortunate," he whispers, his chest tightening with pity for his eldest child.

"Why don't you find an Unfortunate for her then, instead of gossiping every day like little girls?" Marie snaps, appearing in the office with a mug of coffee in hand.