I kicked a stone into the river, watching it sink to the bottom. The woods were still. I was alone out here. Everyone was inside the house. Still recovering but no one was in a good mood. Another member dead, leaving a brother and father to mourn. Another death added to the two from the summer.
The fire left more than just physical marks at the edge of the property. My father, Brandon, and James almost lost their lives because the Strays were trying to prove a point. Tony did lose his life. I considered the mindset of the Strays. Would we hear from them any time soon? Or did they accomplish what they wanted? Destroy what they could of the Pack, cause us all pain? We'd thought the violent acts were meant as distractions, but what if pain was all they wanted to cause?
I knew it couldn't be over. I could only hope they'd decided they had shed enough blood.
Sticks cracking under a foot broke the silence. I glanced over my shoulder, trying to ignore the fact I had jumped at the sound. Matthew Oxborr walked up to me, tugging at the zipper on his jacket. I faced the water, sliding my hands into my sweater's pockets.
"Mind if I join?"
I shrugged, nodding. We fell into a silence, wrapped in our own thoughts. I glanced at Matthew through my lashes. His head was dropped, but I couldn't tell if he was actually focused on the water.
"I'm sorry you got caught in the fire. That must have been terrifying."
I glanced at him, a bit surprised he'd spoken again. Standing beside me was a vastly different person than the man I knew. His eyes were empty, that mischief he'd kept at thirty-five was gone. He'd lost his brother this morning and he couldn't even mourn privately. Not really, with all these people around. In his eyes, I knew he'd looked at his brother's head after Drew took it from the kitchen. I could see the permanent change in his face from the experience.
Matthew looked down at me and I raised the corners of my lips. I wrapped my arms around his stomach, hugging him tightly. I wasn't expecting him to reciprocate, almost shocked when he did. Matthew rested his cheek against my head, and I felt the shuddered breath from his chest. I didn't know how else to show that I was here for him. I stepped back and looked up at him.
"I'm sorry."
I didn't know what else I could say. I'm sorry your brother died for no good reason? Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. Matthew nodded; his eyes trailed over my head. He cleared his throat, but kept his eyes averted.
"I came out here to tell you that dinner is ready. Thought you'd want a quieter approach than if some of the others came to tell you."
I let out a breathed laugh, "who had the energy to make food? Half the Pack was asleep when I left."
Matthew just raised an eyebrow, and we said the answer together.
"Cora."
The Pack filled the backyard at twilight and built a bonfire. It was huge, build with the few trees we'd cut down on the property. It'd be a solemn and quiet night. When it was complete, Charlie hobbled down from the porch, lighting the first match. It was tradition in a werewolf funeral. Once the heat began to grow, we circled loosely around the bonfire. Beers in our hands, we watched at the flames.
Matthew approached the bonfire with the cardboard box in his hands. I knew everyone wished we had the rest of his body to burn but the head would have to do. As Matthew placed the box as close to the top of the wood pile, we raised our cans. I could hear Cora sobbing into Aaron's shoulder, who I could see in the fire's reflection, had tears silently rolling down his face too.
This night was more than just Tony's funeral. This was a funeral for Bill and Michael. We'd never been able to have a formal one like this. Charlie had hoped we'd be able to get a hold of their remains and do it properly. Their bodies had been cremated back on the west coast, however.
A werewolf funeral was simple. We mourned during the burning of the body and no other time. No one wanted their emotions to bubble over at another time. Werewolves, Pack members and Strays alike, weren't fans of showing their emotions. People saw our kind as emotionless, and it was to our advantage to keep them thinking that way.
I looked back at the porch. James and Brandon sat in chairs, nursing their own beers. Both still too weak to stay standing for any length of time, much to their own complaining and insistence that they were fine. I made eye contact with James, giving him a small smile. He returned it, taking a drink from his beer. A warmth ran across my torso under my sweater from his smile.
Once the box was placed on the fire, Matthew stepped back and off the reflection of the flames, I could see tears roll down his cheeks. He poured a dash of his beer, Tony's favourite, on the fire. We stood at the fire for at least another hour, watching it slowly burn the box and die out. From here, it was the decision of Charlie, Matthew, and Lawrence, still inside the house, to handle the rest of the remains.
I sat across the window seat in the living room. I was sending emails to my professors, informing them I was in a minor car accident and due to parental concern, I wasn't sure when I would be returning to in-class learning. It was the easiest excuse to come up with as to why I'd vanished.
With their replies of condolences and well-wishes, they all sent the homework I'd missed. You'd have thought that I would have gotten a break, but it seemed no car accident stopped higher education. The only thing saving my mood was the rain falling outside the window.
The house was silent again, which had given me the opportunity to use my laptop. The autumn rain had drawn every healthy person in the house outside, running through the woods and covering themselves in mud. The floors were going to be a mess when they got back and I wasn't cleaning it.
Aaron walked into the living room, rubbing a towel in his hair. He dropped down in the armchair with a grunt, looking into the rain. I closed my laptop, placing it on the seat beside me. I looked at my godfather. It was the perfect opportunity to ask a question that'd been on my mind for awhile.
"Aaron?" he made a sound in his throat while check his phone, "do you know if my mother was still in contact with Daniel Blake?"
Aaron looked up at me with wide eyes, startled by my question. He put his phone down and leaned forwards on his knees, a serious expression filling his face.
"I assumed so. Your parents have argued about it when they thought no one was around or awake. It was usually in whispers, but I knew. It'd become a rare fight as of late, so I wasn't sure if Stella was still speaking with him."
"When the fighting was at its worst, was that around when Daniel tried to take James with him?"
Aaron's eyebrows raised, "how did you know about that?"
"Kurtis told me."
"Did you tell James?"
"No."
Aaron sighed, nodding his head. He was relieved I'd kept the information to myself.
"Why'd she do it? Why would she keep it a secret?"
"Pack members aren't to stay in contact with previous Pack wolves. Especially ones that caused problems within the Pack before they left. You know this. Your mother isn't a werewolf, but she lives on Pack territory and is the Alpha's mate. Rules apply to her too. If Charlie ran the Pack how they used to, your mother would've been made to leave a long time ago."
"Do you think she trying to change Charlie's mind about Daniel?"
"No, your father was raised with the old Pack's ways. I don't think Stella could ever change his mind on communicating with Daniel."
"What do you mean?"
Aaron slumped back in the chair, "if someone left the Pack the way Daniel did when your grandfather was Alpha, he wouldn't have survived what would've been seen as a ambush, albeit a solo ambush. Daniel was drunk when he showed up that day and your father stopped him from making a fool of himself or scaring James. The fact Charlie didn't kill him or humiliate him in front of the Pack shows progress."
Aaron's words rattled around in my mind for a minute.
"Do you think we should get rid of the Pack?" I muttered, looking down at my fingernails.
"No, werewolves as a society need it too much. We just need to continue embracing more diverse thinking. You're bringing that with the deals you've been making with the witches and the half-borns. Forget whatever Carrey is trying to plant into your brain. It's only for his benefit."
Aaron didn't seem offended by my question, and I was grateful. I don't know if I could rationally explain my reasoning behind it. I rested my head against the window frame and watched the rain fall.
"What do you think about Daniel? Can he be saved?"
"Saved from punishment? No, he's done too much damage as of late. I'm sure James will have some input, but your father has the final decision on Daniel's fate."
I'd been trying to understand how Daniel could attempt to kill his own son. James didn't remember anything from the time surrounding the fire. None of them did. He didn't know how he got out of the car either. The only explanation I'd come up with was Daniel pulling him out in a moment of guilt. With his wounds, James couldn't have gotten as far as he had. Daniel putting James in danger was something I couldn't comprehend, but to remove him from it made me even more confused.
I rolled my head to looked at Aaron. A bit of grey had begun growing around his hairline. My godfather seemed to be aging much quicker lately. Aaron looked at me, waiting for an answer or another question.
"I don't know what to think," I muttered with a shrug.
Charlie walked into the living room, looking healthier than the last few days. He was still walking with a limp though, but we all ignored it. I don't know if anyone would have the courage to point it out then deal with consequences.
"That's okay, Ashlyn. I'm the Alpha for a reason. You'll learn to make these decisions and know what to think on your own one day."
I smirked at him, "is that your way of telling me I'm next in line for the throne?"
Charlie dropped on the couch, chuckling, "doesn't matter if you're the Alpha or not. By the time a need for a new leader comes around, you're going to be a senior Pack member. Your voice will be important, as will your reasoning."
I watched my father settle further into the couch. He was only forty-five, but his face was lined with worry wrinkles.
"Have you started thinking about that? Who will take over for you when you step down?" I felt uncomfortable with the question coming out of my mouth. I couldn't imagine my father at that age to step down, or anything to happen to him where he'd be replaced.
"I've been thinking about it since the day I was handed the position," Charlie replied, arm across the back of the couch. I looked back out the window.
As a kid, I wanted to the job after Charlie. To me, it was the most important job in the world. Drew and I would argue who would be the better Alpha. Those often turned into physical fights, with a fifty-fifty chance of success for me. Stella would drag us apart, setting our dirty feet in front of Charlie for a lecture and comments from Tyler that he was older and more likely to be the Alpha anyways.
In high school, my mind had begun to change. I wanted to be a part of bigger things and do more with my life than Alpha. The solitary of werewolves became much clearer and with the help of my brothers, I'd set a goal to have us looked at as more than just mean and force. I was going through a rebellious phase, wanting to be a peaceful warrior for werewolves without the Pack and Alpha's name helping me. As I graduated with honours, I understood the need for the two things I didn't want to associate myself with to accomplish a lot more. The name would draw people's attention. That fact has never let me down.
Now here I was, doing what I wanted and making improvements with results. My guidance counselor would be so proud. But being the Alpha? I hadn't thought about or considered it in years. With Drew focusing on a human career after university and Nicole being human, I'd assumed Tyler would hold the title. The thought had begun creeping up on me since the fire.
"Yeah, hold on. He's right here."
James came into the room, handing Charlie his cell phone, "it's Daniel."
James glanced at me briefly as Charlie took the phone from him. James put himself anxiously in the armchair across the room.
Aaron's eyes followed James before going back to Charlie. We listened to Charlie converse with his old friend. He spent most of the time listening, making the occasional sound or comment. I couldn't hear what was coming from the other end of the call. James was nervous, waiting for the conversation to end with his knee shaking wildly. Aaron and I made eye contact. We were equally confused.
Charlie nodded his head, "alright, see you then."
Charlie tossed it back to James, who caught the phone with wide eyes. My father looked at James, who's gaze went down to his hands that he now had clasped together against his knees.
"Is this what you want?" Charlie asked, no emotion behind his words. James glanced up at him and nodded his head awkwardly.
"Okay. Aaron, come with me to my office."
The two men got up and left the room without another word. James stayed looking at his hands, ignoring my eyes. My curiosity was rising, but so was my irritation.
"Are you going to tell me what that was about?"
James half shrugged, "Daniel wants to meet with Charlie to discuss his options."
My mood changed as if someone snapped their fingers. I was suddenly furious. My feet dropped to the floor, "His options? James, Daniel killed three members of the Pack in cold blood, or did you forget that?"
"That's my family you're talking about," James growled, eyes still lowered.
"We're your family. Bill and Michael were your family! Tony was your family until Daniel helped cut his head off!" I aggressively whispered the last sentence, not wanting to make anyone that was able to hear us more upset.
"If Mack Carrey decides he doesn't need Daniel around anymore, he was dead. If Daniel doesn't do what Carrey needs, he's dead. Daniel needed to protect himself."
I leaned forward, confused by the blind defense that I was hearing from James' mouth. This was a new level of protection I hadn't seen before.
"You're saying what he's done is okay? Killing people is okay? Justified even?"
James stood up, anger clear across his face, "that's not what I said. Daniel asked me to give him a chance. I think I'm willing to give it to him."
I scoffed, standing up, "that's naïve. You know the facts. Daniel left fifteen years ago when he decided he didn't want this life and left. He left you with a safer life than he could give you as a Stray," from the look on James' face, I wasn't getting anywhere. Selfishly, I changed tactics, "how long do you think it'll be until he decides he doesn't want to be around and leaves again? How are you going to feel? You were a little kid the first time he abandoned, you didn't understand what was happening. This time you will and you're going to feel really dumb for letting him in."
James stepped up to me, his eyes full of rage, "why are you so against wanting me to try and have a relationship with my dad?"
"He's not your dad!" I yelled and threw my arms out, "Charlie is your dad! Aaron is your dad! Fuck, Scott is more of a dad to you than Daniel! Daniel is your biological father! Why're you being so stupid and blind?"
We were both seething. Smoke was all but rolling out of his ears, fists curled. I was glad that he wasn't within my reach because I had the desire to slap him.
"Whatever," his voice losing some of the frustration, "this is my decision. I didn't even want to tell you anyways."
James started to leave the room. I grabbed a book off the bookshelf beside me and chucked it at him, missing his head and hitting the door frame instead. James paused for a moment but left my sight. I stood staring at the empty space, my chest heaving. I could feel my muscles starting to twitch out of anger. Brandon rounded the corner and looked down at the book.
"What did 'Pride and Prejudice' ever do to you?"
I bared my teeth at him, growling in my throat and Brandon smirked, raising his hands. Like Charlie, he looked better. His face was still pale, and he couldn't change forms, but there was progress. I hadn't paid attention to how James looked today.
"Why are you up? You're supposed to be relaxing," I snapped at him.
"Who could relax with you and James going at each other's throats? I'm surprised this room is still standing. Fairly certain Tony is rolling around in his urn trying to get some peace."
I snorted then pointed my finger at him, "that's not funny."
Brandon sat down in the spot my father had emptied with a satisfied smirk on his face. Taking a deep breath, I sat down on the window seat again. My energy had depleted from the sudden argument.
"Do you think I should be okay with him trying to have a relationship with Daniel?"
Brandon shrugged, "no you shouldn't have to be. I'm not. You just need to be supportive."
"Daniel won't be allowed to live. He was a part of murdering three Pack members. I don't want James to get naïve hopes."
"Yes, but he's also our best friend's father. It sounds like Daniel is trying to make sure he has some connection to his son before his execution. We both know James needs closure to Daniel leaving and his mum dying. Daniel knows he won't survive the things that he's done. Either he stays and becomes a father fifteen years too late the right way, or he waits for death and gives up. We both need to be there for James, either way."
"Stop being smart," I grumbled and looked out the window. I hated Daniel. That wasn't a new feeling. What was a new feeling, was the surprise I felt towards James. Daniel was starting to successfully worm his way into James's life with no resistance. I was getting a sneaking suspicion it was to keep himself alive. I knew I needed to support James, but if I had any say in it, Daniel wasn't staying or leaving a new scar on James.