The Wild

-26- Resurrection

I could barely say anything, but I was sure he got the gist of it. There wasn't much else wearing a T-shirt and underwear could imply, especially when it meant that I had a run-in with Tyler and he wound up dead at the bottom of the stairs. After I'd exhausted as much tears as I could manage, Brian told me to get changed, and that he'd take care of Tyler's body. He could probably smell it too—that dreadfully awful metallic stench that would probably linger for months later.

I disappeared behind the curtain of my room and changed my shirt, underwear, and hoisted up a pair of pants, all of which covered up the bruises on my legs up to my chest. Nothing at the moment could hide the damage done on my wrists, and if any of this werewolf stuff was true on my part, I hoped I could heal as fast as Brad had, or even Bennet for that matter. Tyler had punched him in the face, and that bruise went away in just a few days with no sign of it's existence.

I waited until Brian had nudged open the basement door with his shoulder, and lumbered across the cabin to head outside. I decided to give him space and not question where he put the body, or how long he spent out there, but I could feel the intense cloud of grief that surrounded him just beyond the walls of my cabin. Not only had Brian been Tyler's righthand man, but he'd also been his best friend.

Five solid minutes passed before I heard John and Mary's footsteps climbing the path up to my cabin. They lingered outside for a while, most likely struck by whatever they found out there. I waited impatiently at the island counter where I sat earlier, confronted somewhat innocently by Tyler as he attempted casual conversation to cover up the fact that he was afraid. He was afraid of the damage I could do to him. It seemed as though he was right in being paranoid.

Eventually a knock sounded on my door, and I told them to let themselves in. When the door creaked open, I saw the face of a woman who couldn't have predicted any of this. She stared at me for roughly ten seconds before entering fully, mouth slightly ajar and face slightly grey. She seemed to be struggling for the right thing to say when it was clear there was none. I wouldn't blame her if she'd have said, "What the hell have you done?!" While she hadn't been close to Tyler, he was still her son, and nothing could break a maternal bond.

Instead, she walked over to me and stood on the side of the counter where she was able to rest a gentle hand on my arm. It migrated to my wrist where the skin was raw and turning purple. "Everything will be okay, dear," she said, voice breaking. "I can see what he's done, and I'm here for you."

I looked towards her and the tear tracks down her cheeks. She wore a sad smile as she patted my wrist and lifted my hands up, which had once been covered with Tyler's blood. She kissed my fingers and simply held my hand as I grimaced and stammered, "I-I'm really sorry, Mary—I didn't mean to kill him."

"I know, dear, I know. But what he did was unforgivable. I know the pain, and I want you to know that you aren't alone. You can talk to me whenever you feel like it," she told me gingerly, speaking slowly as she did so.

I knew John was still outside, most likely speaking with Brian, or helping in some way. I was grateful that it was just Mary and I, and while it was hard to relay everything, I had questions that needed answers. After a moment longer, I decided to recall what I had heard that had caused Tyler to go insane. The incessant beeping, the headache, and crazed frenzy it put him into.

She stared at me for a while after I finished explaining it, and shifted her stance as she thought. At last, she turned to me with wary eyes and said, "I... don't believe I've ever heard of that before. There isn't much flexibility when it comes to what Alphas are able to put into the thoughts of their people, but I imagine it was a defense mechanism. Perhaps it's something only female Alphas are able to achieve."