After the memorial, Caleb returned to his room with a drink in hand.
He stood on his patio, letting the warm breeze rush over his skin. The air was filled with smoke from the funeral pyres. They would burn all night long, and the families of each of the wolves that died would stay beside the fire until the last ember went out.
He leaned forward on the railing. Closing his eyes, he let out a deep and weighted sigh.
Caleb thought of Ashleigh. He missed her, just being near her gave him energy. Even without the stress and loss of the last two weeks, being away from her was draining on him.
Seeing her again, he needed it. Even if it was indeed the last time, he needed it.
There was a knock on his door.
“Come in,” he called into the room. He pushed himself off the railing and walked back inside just as Fiona closed the door behind her.
“Mother,” he said, a soft greeting as he set down the yet untouched glass of whiskey.
“Son,” she smiled back.
