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Ten or so minutes were then spent by me, thoroughly shocked and wandering like a lost zombie to the kitchen where I must have spent half the time in front of the sink with the water running. The smell—the smell was unbearable. Whenever I tried to get it out of my head, it would clog my senses again and send me into a tizzy. I could see it all happening before me again, and what hurt the most was that I knew just where the smell came from and the sight that waited there, eyes open and glazed over.
It was his blood, and it was like it was everywhere. On my clothes, my hands, seeping into my skin. By the time I scrubbed my arms raw, I realized that I couldn't undo any of it. I wanted to cry, or at the very least, talk to someone.
The first person to pop into my head was Mary. Mary would know what to do. She had to, because I didn't know what kind of insanity would cling to me if she didn't.
I grabbed hold of the phone to my right and shut off the water, still holding a damp washcloth in my free hand so I could scrub my face and neck. There may not have been much blood there, but I wanted to desensitize and get rid of any fingerprint Tyler left on me. In the midst of all of this, Mary picked up the phone at last.
"Lily? How are you doing? Is everything all right?" she asked in a panic. I paused, realizing that I couldn't speak without the tension snapping and breaking down right there on my kitchen floor.
After blinking rapidly a few times and stammering stupidly into the speaker, I said, "I-I don't think so. Mary, I need help..." The last bit got all jumbled and squeaky. A sob broke loose and I couldn't keep it in any longer. "I-It's Tyler- he's- I didn't mean t-to-"
"It's all right, everything's going to be okay. John and I are on our way. Is he there? Did he hurt you?" She didn't know the half of it.
I was barely able to keep standing when I hastily told her to hurry before shutting the phone off and dropping it onto the counter. I was a complete and utter mess when I dropped my elbows onto the edge of the kitchen sink and knotted my hands into my hair. It was at that point that I got that same, limb-numbing warning that I got before Tyler's "visit", and I nearly went apeshit crazy when it happened. By the time I was able to calm myself down by reminding myself that it couldn't be Tyler at all, I'd gone and torn the blinds closed on my kitchen window and knocked a potted plant into my sink.
Dear Lord I wasn't even wearing pants.
I didn't have much time to run across the cabin and fetch a pair of shorts when a series of rapid knocks hammered away on my front door. I had a hunch as to who it was, but just to be sure, I opened a drawer and fetched a fork from it; I knew the kind of damage a fork could do.
"Lily! Open up, I know you're in there!" I wanted to scream and bawl my eyes out at the same time. It was Brian.
I abandoned the fork and rushed to unlock the door. I pulled it open, being sure to keep myself behind it as Brian came into view, looking more like Edward Cullen by the second with how pale he was. His eyes were flickering around like mad before he settled on me, still breathing hard like he'd run halfway across the nation to get here.
I could only stare at him when he said, "Where's Tyler? S-Something's off, and-" He stopped with the frantic hand gestures to finally take a look at me and see that I was practically naked except for a ratty T-shirt and underwear. His eyes were glossy as he looked at me then, looking even more panicked than before. "Jesus Christ, what happened? Where's Tyler? Tell me what happened, Lily-"
No matter how hard I tried to talk straight, it came out wobbly and disoriented as I still clung to the door handle. "I didn't mean to- I-I'm sorry, Brian," I blubbered, sobbing like crazy, even when he came forward and kept me from falling when I let go of the door. He kicked it shut and held me with my face against his jacket and his arms around my shoulders.
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."
"But I really think my shift was a one-time thing. I don't feel very different," I told her, but she instantly shook her head.
"No, dear, it wasn't. I can see it in you, just like your mother... I can feel it, too, and so can John. And he's been around a number of Alphas, so I think we can trust him on this one," she told me, and gave a short little laugh when she poked fun at her husband. If he was here at the moment, I figured he'd be as unresponsive as usual.
"It's because of that, I think. I can't... pinpoint what it was, but I think he was afraid of me after I had shifted. It's why he confronted me, and if I hadn't shifted in the first place, maybe-"
"You had no control over it, honey. Sh, don't say that! There's a reason for everything and you can't change it. We just have to deal with the consequences when they come," she told me firmly, and I knew exactly what she was talking about before she even mentioned it. Tyler's men would make sure I paid for what I did to their leader, and I couldn't imagine how furious they were. They were all probably losing their minds at this very second, trying to figure out what was wrong like Brian did.
The screen door swung open, and a second later, John nudged the wooden door out of his way so he could step inside, swiping a hand over the side of his face and looking thoroughly exasperated. This wasn't what he had in mind when it came to a casual, relaxation day.
"The others will be here any minute. We can't move his body much farther from here without making them suspicious," he explained to us, kicking the door closed and walking over to the counter. His boots fell heavy on the wood flooring until he stopped and turned to me. "It's probably difficult for you right now, but Brian is adamant. The funeral happens here and no where else."
"What funeral? They aren't... burying him here, are they?" I gasped, voice squeaking. Mary hastily shook her head and looked to me.
"No, of course not. It's customary in their pack to burn the dead rather than bury them. It's been a tradition for as long as I can remember," she informed me. I felt like fainting right then and there. I knew Brian hadn't meant it as punishment to me, but I could smell Tyler's blood wafting in from the basement, and later, I'd have the stench of his burning flesh to remember him by. Great.
John seemed to sense my reservations and gave me a stern look as he said, "Lily, it's the least you can do. Letting them grieve here at your home will improve their image of you. It shows that you don't mean to start a war with them."
I remained silent as Mary began to discuss how they would manage the uproar with Tyler's father. Surely he wouldn't see his son's death as an act of violence against his pack? I wanted to bash my head into the counter. Their damn Alpha, who had practically enslaved Mary, didn't exactly seem like one to compromise in situations such as these. He was a retired Alpha, old, too aged to lead a group of men with steadfast endurance and tempers to match.
"What will they do now?" I asked them, returning their attentions to me. "What will they do now that Tyler's dead? If his father can't lead them, who do they go to?"
Mary seemed stumped, so she turned to John, who automatically said, "That's for Brian to decide. As Beta he had control of the pack until further notice. He can't stand on his own for long because he doesn't have the capabilities Tyler had."
—-
Late that night, when Amaya and Bennet came around to see what all the commotion was about, they stumbled in on a bed of wooden logs, branches, and sticks. They found every one of Tyler's men glaring at them with such ferocity, that it was no wonder they thought the burning of Tyler's body was instead for me, and that they were next. They came running into the cabin, only to relax the second they found all of the lights on, and my favorite record playing in the background. I was, in fact, as safe as I could be at a time like that.
"What the hell is going on?" Amaya blurted out, waving her arms around like a mad woman. "It's practically pitch black out and you're having a campfire and invited Tyler's whole gang and forgot about us?"
I was standing in the living area with Bennet's parents, as well as Brian and his trusty friend Rick. I folded my arms over my chest and passed an uncomfortable look over to Brian. He returned it with grave eyes before glancing at John, who then looked at Mary to break the news. I figured it wasn't appropriate to break it to them over the phone, but I would have preferred it to seeing the look of astonishment and horror on their faces.
Bennet couldn't very well stand up straight after hearing the news, and went to take a seat at the counter without saying a word. Amaya couldn't seem to find any words, which was odd for her, so she too remained in silence until finally asking, "So what are we doing now?"
At this point Brian sighed and told her, "We'll mourn tonight, and pay our respects at the burning."
"But why here?" she demanded, just as stumped as I was when John and Mary broke the news to me.
"Where else? Our home is hundreds of miles from here. As much as I would like to do this there, we can't," he said, his eyebrows pulled together in distress. He clasped his hands in front of him and nodded to John before saying, "We'd like to start now. Is there anything else?"
John shook his head, and that was that. Brian and Rick departed from the cabin to address the men who were just beyond the living room window. I could see them in the clearing in front of my house where Amaya and I had campfires, but was now over twice the size, rectangular, and built up off the ground as a sort of bed to lay Tyler to rest.
Once the door closed, Amaya stared at us in exasperation, seemingly lost. "What? Do they expect us to stand out there with them and hold their hands? They hate us!"
"It's complicated, I know," Mary told her, which only made her shout in frustration and turn away from us. She folded her arms before propping a hand up to her chin, stuck in deep thought. During that time, Mary turned to me and held me by the arms. She stared me dead in the eyes and said, "You must be strong. We'll be with you out there."
"Excuse me?" Amaya exploded, rounding on us again. I stared at the ground while she spouted off in a haze of fury. "You want Lily to go out there? After what happened?"
John raised a hand out to her, signaling for her to shut up. She clamped her mouth shut, but didn't seem happy about it. I smoothed out my jacket as we started towards the door, and swiftly lifted my fur-rimmed hood over my hair. When I stood among the wolves, at least I'd have familiar faces to look to. Mary kept her hand in mine, and that was all the motherly comfort I needed when nearly everyone out there hated me.
The night was frozen in the bluish light of the moon. When I caught a scent of the crystal clear mountain air, I couldn't imagine anything better. It settled in my skin and made me feel free again. I hadn't realized it at the time, but sitting in my cabin in the muggy, lingering stench of blood had gotten to my head.
Behind me I felt the presence of Amaya and Bennet, the latter of whom approached with a comforting hand on my back. In other circumstances, I might have smiled. I couldn't believe I threw myself into the lake after him when Tyler took him. I was downright crazy, and so was he.
The men around the fire all turned at the sound of our footsteps coming down the porch stairs. Without meaning to, my back straightened, which in turn carried my eyes up off the ground. A space opened among the ranks of Tyler's men who came all this way under his father's orders. They hadn't even gotten what they came for.
It wasn't difficult to find Brian, and when I locked eyes with him, he was quick to put his attention elsewhere, and adjust his stance so he looked acutely similar to a soldier. I stood wedged between John and Mary with Amaya and Bennet staggered behind us. As I glanced over my shoulder to make certain they were there, I noticed Brian step back from his position and make leave with three of the other men. A few moments later, they returned, this time with Tyler's body.
I couldn't look at him without wanting to vomit right there in the grass, in front of everyone, so I merely watched with eyes out of focus, staring intently at the bed of wood where they placed Tyler in complete silence, other than the rustling of the leaves overhead. One of the men held a branch on the sidelines, the end of it fat with cloth dipped in gasoline. A torch.
In the midst of this procedure, I was able to scan the faces around the soon-to-be fire. I found Brad among them, and I wasn't surprised to find him already looking at me. The moment we made eye contact, he jerked his head away, a deep scowl set on his brow. It wasn't a surprise: he was pro-Tyler-and-Lily. It was no wonder he felt betrayed.
I was brought back into focus by a match being struck, and the torch being lit. It was set ablaze, spiraling with wisps of flames that illuminated those around it. The man passed it down the line, and it ended up in Brian's fist. Before he began, he looked around to ensure that everyone's attention was on him.
"Life comes quickly," he announced, "so it's to be expected that it goes by fast. In the blink of an eye, some people say-"
"Like that one country song," Bennet whispered from behind us, and Amaya was quick to elbow him in the gut.
"-When the end does come, though, more often than not it's expected. Illness, age, you get the gist. I liked to think... that Tyler, our Alpha, was one of those life-long friends. We'd see him grow old, and pass on his legacy to his children, and grandchildren. But the life of an Alpha is demanding, we know that now, and more often than not, their deaths aren't to be expected. Out of the ordinary. It's something to anticipate but not know exactly, and from my time spent by his side, I think he knew that.
"Reckless," he exclaimed, suddenly and with such vigor, that it echoed. I wanted to give a wary look at Mary but chose not to. "We're all reckless, and it will get us killed if we don't catch ourselves before we fall." I could see the glow of the torchlight casting deep shadows against his cheekbones, and the lines that formed on his forehead. His voice was shaking; "Before Tyler, before his father—his grandfather was ambitious. He, too, had what it took to be an Alpha, and seized it. Every pack is built from a conquerer, someone who took charge, and someone who was superior in comparison to the last leader. Tyler was strong, yes, and he was able to keep his father's legacy going by proving his strengths through leadership, ambition, and dedication. It was his recklessness that caused him to... be overthrown, I believe, and so I call into question: Who do we follow?"
I wanted him to shut up, so bad that I would have picked up a rock and threw it at him right then and there. We were at a funeral, damn it, and he was springing this on them? A few of the men were shuffling anxiously, and I could feel their eyes—they were looking at Brian, mostly, but some knew where the question came from, and where the answer was.
"As Beta of the pack, I am called to cast a vote in light of my Alpha's death. Tyler's grandfather was true force to be reckoned with—we all know the stories. He took fate into his own hands and used it as a weapon against the leader before him. There's a reason conqueror's triumph. Tyler's conqueror is someone we've never come across before, and in time, I believe she has more than enough power to lead us all."
I was a threat. I wasn't a leader. I wasn't a conqueror. What an asinine thing to say at a funeral.
"There hasn't been a female Alpha in... I don't know how long. Lily hasn't even been trained. How do you know the mutant is even capable of it?" someone spoke up, and there came a murmur of agreement. "Besides, she killed our Alpha, how do we know if she'll be with us or against us?"
"For fuck's sake, we can't bring her back to the Senior Alpha! He's old enough as it is—but replacing his son for his killer, no less a female, will give him a heart attack!" another person erupted, which was, too, followed by a series of agreements. I bowed my head as if to pay my respects to Brian's dying plan. There wasn't much of a winning shot in this vote.
Brian waited for the commotion to die down before continuing to speak on my behalf. "In all the time I've spent with Lily, I can safely say that she means us no harm. I mean, look at her! Do you think she's one to plot a conspiracy?" That caused a few laughs, and I found myself smiling meekly under the furry hood of my coat. "Her part in Tyler's death wasn't meant as a threat against us; in all honesty, she was defending herself. She was able to hold her own against our Alpha, and I think anyone who's able to do that deserves a fighting chance."
"But the Senior Alpha-"
"-Doesn't have a say in pack politics much anymore. He's an adviser now, not a leader," he reminded them. While the thought of a female Alpha made them wary, they couldn't deny that they all would have gone insane if it weren't for the fact that I was simply there.
Brian held the torch up higher, as if declaring a toast. "Then is it settled? We give Lily a fighting chance?"
"We can't damn well say no when she's standing right fucking there," one of the men muttered, which was enough to put a smile on anyone's faces, even despite the fact that there was a dead body in front of us, prepared to be lit ablaze.
Brian released a strained laugh before stepping up to the bed of wood and raising the torch even higher—"Then under the light of the moon and God, and all the gods our people follow, I'd like to resurrect the title of Alpha Tyler, now passed, unto... Lily. From here on out, Alpha Lily. Long may you live."
Everyone murmured, "Long may you live," while I stood rooted to the ground, looking all around at the faces of men I hardly knew. I knew what it all entailed, which John, Brian, Rick, and Mary all made sure of it. Any life I lived in the Grand Tetons was to be left behind as soon as this was all said and done.
Brian walked the perimeter of the wooden bed, setting each of the corners on fire until it all gradually consumed the body of the man whose face was no longer recognizable. When his part was done, he handed the torch over to Rick, who put it out in a bucket of water. Through the shimmering mirage of the fire, my eyes connected with Brian's and remained there as everyone hummed some dreary tune as the branches cracked and the wood split, and malodor filled the air.
The fire became so large, and the light so bright, that the ring of people surrounding it expanded. I held fast onto Amaya's hand as she slipped between Mary and I, and on my right, Bennet came forward to intertwine our fingers together. I stared up, and watched as the smoke clouds gathered, and the sky absorbed the life and soul of Alpha Tyler, now passed.
Alpha Lily, long may she live.
> AUTHOR'S NOTE <
And that begins the legacy of Lily, but it concludes this story. I hope Lily's conversation with Mary ties up some loose ends though, I tried as best I could with the limited knowledge each of the characters have when it comes to female Alphas. The one who knows the most is Lily's mom, and she's a bit cryptic so...
I don't believe they'll be another book, but that doesn't mean I'll leave you here. Expect an Epilogue sometime soon, wrapping up the ties between Lily and Brian, what happens with Mary and John, as well as Lily and Bennet.
I look forward to it ;P
Adieu, Sarah
P.S. If you're looking for a new book to read after this that involves werewolves, but with a slightly different werewolf concept from the mainstream views, check out my book "The Rogue Camp". It's in between this view of werewolves and the Wattpad version (It includes mates, rogues, and territories, but in this instance, the territories are more like countries and a single Alpha rules an entire country with a branch of people helping him). It follows the POV of a rogue who identifies with a band of rogues who save wandering werewolves from potential death at the border of the most feared pack.
If you're looking for a new book to read after this that DOESN'T include werewolves, but has a similar style of voice, character, description, et cetera, check out my new book "The Skies Above Us", which is a rewrite from "Cross My Heart". It involves growing up and the struggles that come with it (identity, friendship, drama, sexuality, mental illnesses, you get the gist). It follows the POV of a girl who... I can't say much other than she starts out in first grade and ends up in twelfth grade--I SWEAR IT'S GOOD THOUGH I just don't want to ruin anything.