Ethan rubbed his tired eyes with his forefinger and thumb. He could barely see straight.
The only thing he'd found since last night was the history of King Alaricus Lupin, whose mate was slayed by enemies.
But he hadn't died of despair.
In fact, he went on to live the longest of all the Lycan Kings.
True enough, he'd asked a blood witch to make him a very rare potion that could save one dying soul.
Ethan was sure there had to more than one dose— a caution for future generations. He just needed to know where.
But the bloody book wasn't keen on telling him that.
'Get a hold of yourself', he mentally shook himself. The ambassador was probably waiting for him, and he'd lost track of time in the library.
Ethan turned a corner—
And ran straight into someone.
And then he was holding a gun to someone's forehead.
Every fiber of his body was on high alert, since this part of his house was supposed to be empty, ad he heard no footsteps, caught no scent.
But just as his eyes focused on the intruder, his grip on the trigger faltered.
It tightened just as fast.
A hundred thoughts swarmed in his head.
'I can do this,' was his only thought as he'd walked to the cemetery
The sky was painted grey with heavy clouds, rain splattered down on his umbrella. Ethan could feel resistance building in his chest as the distance between him and his destination shortened.
He saw someone standing at the gates, and stopped in his steps.
The girl would take a step forward, then stop and turn around, as if to walk away. Then she'd come back again, and stare at the cemetery gates.
She stood without any umbrella, as if she couldn't even feel the splattering rain.
Maybe it was the turmoil of emotion on her face, maybe it was the tension in her shoulders, the clenching and unclenching of her fists, but Ethan felt like staring at a mirror.
Without thinking, he walked over to her and extended the umbrella to shelter them both.
She jumped and stepped back into the rain, a hand reached for her pocket.
"You should just go in," He said, unable to even cringe at how brittle his voice was
Maybe she saw on his face what he'd seen on hers, because her arms dropped. She stared down at the ground, water dripping from wet hair. Her lips moved, but Ethan didn't catch her voice.
A moment later, he registered what she'd said so quietly.
"I can't face them."
Ethan swallowed, and turned his gaze to the cemetery "The longer you wait, the harder it'll be."
His own feet were glued to the earth, and some instinct in his bones screamed to run away. But running away never made anything easier.
"Do you," he turned his attention to the girl again, she hesitated before speaking "Do you want to go in together? On three?"
No escaping then. He nodded, the girl sucked in a sharp breath "One,"
Ethan took a step forward, biting the inside of his cheek "Two,"
"Three." They were inside, everything in him recoiled, crumpled, fractured
He let out a shuddering breath, and took a step towards where his mate was. Over the splattering rain, he still heard near silent footsteps behind him. Ethan glanced back, but the girl simply walked past him, and ahead.
She settled down at the foot of a grave, knees pulled to her chest.
Ethan walked over to where Emily was, just besides whoever the girl had come to see and settled down on the wet ground as well.
His eyes were glued to the gravestone. His mate, gone, just because she was connected to him. His heart was slowly being pulled in every direction.
Ethan closed up his umbrella, and put it aside. Freezing rain splattered down on him, drenching him to the bone.
If he could go back in time, he would change it. He would have her be with someone better, someone stronger, someone less broken. Someone she could've been happy with. Someone she could've been alive with.
He had so much left to tell her.
I'm sorry, Ethan wanted to scream, so loud she'd hear it. He wanted to scream and yell all the helplessness that his body wasn't enough to contain. He wanted to cry and beg anything to change it, to take her place in the grave and have her breathe again.
The ache behind his eyes was unbearable.
"Tears that fall on the heart are heavy," A quiet voice said from beside him "Let them go."
"Sometimes, the weight is armor," His voice trembled "Taking it off is not an option."
"Learn how to take the armor off before it gets stuck," Her voice sounded so far away "Because once it is, you'd wish you could cry just once more."
She'd never be able to laugh again, the lump in his throat was rising to his mouth in every weakness he couldn't afford to show. She'd never be able to roll in the grass, or sing at the top of her voice, or squeal in delight. She was gone, yet he was not.
In the freezing rain, Ethan pulled his knees up to hide his face and cried like he hadn't in the last eight years. Every ugly emotion poured out in heaving waves, his heart ached, his eyes ached, and he wanted to crawl into the earth and lie there until his own heart gave out, until insects ate away his eyes. All his tears had always been useless anyways.
"Why was I left alive?" he didn't know who he was asking "Why am I always the one left alive?"
Over his own heaving, he heard a blubbering sob. Against his better judgment, he looked up. Glassy, dark eyes met his, so completely devastated that for one moment, his heart ached less. On the face of this stranger, he saw everything he felt.
For one moment, he felt the warmth of a tragedy other than his own.
"I don't know," She said, so quietly, he was surprised he heard her at all "But you must have something left to do. A duty you can't leave behind."
Unbidden, Ethan thought of his pack, hundreds of people who'd put their faith the strip of a boy.
Rain and tears dripped down his face, he dragged a harsh hand through his hair "Is that all there is to living? Duty? Responsibility?"
"Yes," Her expression was friece as she stared at the soil in front of her face. her nails dug harshly in it, fingers clenched so tight, her knuckles were white
"Love. Hate. Fear. Desire. Pride or pain." Her voice was raw and choked "It's all utterly useless. Meaningless."
But she spoke with so much conviction, Ethan found no words to contradict. Silence stretched out, broken by thunder roaring above their heads, a testament of their collapsing worlds.
"Then," Ethan finally said "Why are the two us sitting here?"
She said nothing, hunching over herself further, hair curtaining her expression.
"Some people are just born to fight. So are we."
Ethan swallowed and looked up at the angry sky, everything felt hollow and cold, lifeless and dark. Maybe he was always going to have to pretend to be stronger than he was. Maybe he'd die fighting off yet another demon.
"They get used to it, don't they?" he asked "They get so used to it that it becomes normal, right?"
"I hope it does." She said quietly, almost wishfully
Hope, Ethan hadn't seen that in a long time, neither did he expect to anytime soon. There was no hope for him, nothing to go on for.
But she was right, Ethan stood to his feet.
There were things still left for him to do.
"I don't like that thing, hope. It's not very reliable." Ethan said "I prefer having a plan."
He picked his umbrella up, and extended it towards the girl. She looked up at him, caught off guard. Still surprised, she took it.
Ethan put his hands in his pockets "Isn't hope just another useless emotion?"
She stared at him hard for a moment, a riot going on in her emerald eyes. Then she cracked a smile, amused and tired at once.
"You're right," She stood to her feet with the grace of an acrobat, she turned to the the direction of the gates
"Best of luck, Stranger."
He scrambled for words as she started walking.
"You didn't-
"I don't need it," She cut him off softly, then turned her head skywards "What I need, is a reminder that I'm still breathing."
She looked over her shoulder, and the intensity of her gaze almost made Ethan jump.
"As long as that is the case, I cannot think of stopping."
Ethan watched her go, disappear from sight.
'A reminder,' He wondered, picking up the strip of shelter she'd denied.
He walked all the way home through the rain.'
Now he looked at the girl who'd left him to die. A smile curved at his mouth. It was just the thing missing from his life.
"Well, well, came back to kill me, Angel?"
…
Angelina had been sitting in this office for the better part of the last hour. The Vanderwood siblings who'd come to pick him up at the outer walls had left her to wait for Alpha Parks.
Except he was nowhere to be found.
She'd taken the opportunity to sweep through his office.
It was like any standard room. Except for the shelf behind the main desk.
It was full of oddities.
There were shattered photo frames, pieces of fabric. Even a jar of amber with what seemed to be the top half of a finger swimming in it.
Something about this place made the hair on the back of her neck stand.
'It's alright', she told herself, willing her leg to stop moving anxiously. Alpha Parks is only a little eccentric. Elise liked him, after all. He couldn't be absolutely mad.
Her patience was vanning, and there was nothing unusual left in his office to occupy her.
Angelina decided to survey the rest of the house.
She was positive there was no one outside the door, or in the entire hallway for that matter, so she slipped out of the door and started in the direction opposite of where they'd come from.
Broad windows let in the bright sunlight.
Angelina stopped by a window, and looked down at the vast expanse of ground ahead.
Unlike Winter's territory, there were separate houses here. A better strategy for an attack.
But there were too few people here.
No child. No old person.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Angelina walked on.
A standard pack was at least a few thousand people big. She knew Parks' territory had less members, but this few was impossible. They would've been—
She turned a corner.
And the muzzle of a gun pressed to her forehead.
Angelina sucked in a sharp breath. It took her one moment to grasp the situation, hands ready to pull out the knife up her sleeve.
But the familiar face before her made her halt. A hundred memories swarmed up her mind. Of a boy she'd met two years ago.
He recognized her too, given that his grip faltered for a moment, then tightened back again.
"Well, well, came back to kill me, Angel?"
Those words slapped her with reality.
Angelina narrowed her eyes "You're the one who's eager to finish the job."
Before he could reply, Vincent walked in on them. His eyes flickered from his Alpha to Angelina to the gun held in between.
Vincent opened his mouth, closed it again. He shook his head, as if to snap out of it.
"Whoa, whoa," He pushed Ethan's hand down "I am so sorry, Ms. Vander. Our Alpha is just a little sleep deprived."
"Ah, yes," Ethan said, putting the gun away "My sincerest apologies… Ms. Vander."
"Not at all," Angelina cursed her luck
Of all the people, it had to be this Ethan she ran into.
The one who'd tried to kill her once before.
A headache was starting to form at the back of her head.
"You seem to have started your tour already," Ethan said to her casually "Do you mind if we continue in a few hours? I have a few urgent matters to discuss with my inner circle."
"I wouldn't keep you from them." Angelina said, eager to get out of this place
"Perfect, I'll ask Tyler to escort you back to your room." Vincent said brightly
"No!" Angelina blurted out "There's no need to bother. You can just give me directions, I'll be fine on my own."
The gamma looked a little suspicious "Alright. It's just the third down this hall. The door's unlocked."
Angelina nodded "Thank you."
The three parted ways, and Angelina hurried to where her room was supposed to be.
Her career as an ambassador was off to a fantastic start.