ALPHA: Heir Of The Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Notes: Caleb's POV

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-'I will ask you for mercy, I will come to you blind, what you'll see is the worst me, & not the last of my kind.'-

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The cemetery was scarce of early evening visitors, and, for that, I was grateful.

     As the common denominator amongst all who had met their end after crossing my path, death was something I had become far too desensitized to. So, there were no chills to run up my spine as I crossed over dozens of graves, nor an overwhelming guilt that might have plagued any normal person because they continued to breathe while those buried six feet below did not. All I felt, as I neared her grave and the letters of her name became clearer, was peace. It was an emotion I hadn't felt in a very long time, but seeing my final gift to her in the form of a headstone managed to bring the bittersweet emotion out.

     Like I had promised, I brought her home.

     I put down a bouquet of flowers for each of the two headstones to the left of hers; an offering of an apology as much as it was an offering of gratitude. Laying the remaining bouquet in my hand—a bundle of pansies—at the base of her headstone, my eyes trailed over the engraved words below her name.

     Was this what her life had been reduced to? Some comforting Bible quote?

     Who was meant to be comforted?

     Were these words meant to stand guard over her to ensure that she would forever rest in peace? Were they intended to comfort strangers as they walked over her grave and sighed in pity once they calculated that the girl laying beneath their feet had only lived for nineteen years? Or were they meant to comfort those who loved her by being the lie we tell ourselves—and hope nobody overhears—to absolve us of our guilt?

     It was ridiculous.

     As the blue lifted its head above the waters, my wolf began to stir.

     "I'm okay," I assured him. "I'm good."

     He receded back into the shadows, but remained close enough for me to call upon him if necessary. After being in his head for the better part of a year, I understood the reason for his worry. So, I wasn't going to give him a reason to regret handing the reins back over to me.

     I had only just gotten them back.

     Sitting on my haunches, I reached out and pressed my hand flat against the headstone. "Hi," I whispered. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

     A year to the day that she died, to be exact.

     "You're probably pissed that I never came sooner, aren't you? Wherever you are, I'm sure you've got your arms crossed and you're probably pouting," I smiled and pulled my hand away. "But you understand why I couldn't, right?"

     The day that she was laid to rest, I had forced myself to watch from afar. The pack, the Hellands, Jennifer, and her grandmother had all gathered around for their final goodbye. Unable to bring myself to be a part of it, I had left before her coffin had even been lowered into the ground.

     She and I had already said our goodbyes.

     It wasn't perfect. It was rushed and emotional, but it was enough to know that I did not want to do it a second time. Not when the first one still haunted me every time I closed my eyes.