Leaning heavily against the side of his car, Mac's gaze remained fixed on the distance. The sight of the casket being solemnly carried towards the cemetery weighed heavily on his heart, an ache that seemed to pierce through his very being.
He had come here with a heavy heart, a heart burdened with memories and regrets, and now it felt like the weight had doubled. It was hard for him to believe that the person with whom he had yesterday was no longer there for today or for the future.
A part of him wanted to step forward, to join the procession and pay his final respects. Yet, his body felt like an anchor, refusing to move, his legs rooted to the spot. He clenched his hands into fists, the frustration of his helplessness gnawing at him.
As he struggled to find the strength to move, a voice broke through the haze of his thoughts.
"You must be happy!" Lucy's voice. A voice that seemed to carry an edge, and her words hit him like a slap, pulling his attention from the casket and fixing it on her instead.
His gaze slid absently toward his mother, and his thoughts mired in a whirlwind of conflicted emotions.
With an expression mixed with defiance and hurt, Lucy looked away, folding her arms. "After all, you finally got rid of her," she stated, her voice laced with bitterness.
His patience waned, and his voice turned cold, as he replied, "This is not what I wanted. I just didn't want her in my life anymore."
Her retort was swift, her arms tightening around her as if to shield herself from his words. "And she didn't want a life in which she didn't have you."
He opened his mouth to respond, to defend himself, but the words caught in his throat, lost in the turmoil of his thoughts.
Thankfully, his little sister, who had raw experience of any such thing, was there at his rescue. "I think you should stop being mean to him, Mom. Brother would never cause harm to anyone. You know that."
A hint of tension still hung in the air, and Lucy's gaze softened as she regarded him. "He might not cause harm, but his actions did."
The weight of his mother's words settled over him like a heavy shroud. His throat tightened, emotions tangled and unspoken.
"Fine," Martha continued, defusing the tension with a sigh. "If you think he's at fault, then fine. Let's table this discussion for later. I think for now we should go. They are waiting for us."
Wrapping her hand around Mac's arms, she was just about to drag him when suddenly, Lucy's voice pierced the air once again. "Wait!"
Both Mac and Martha turned their attention back to Lucy, waiting for her next words.
"Just make sure the true cause of her death remains sealed within us," Lucy implored. Her tone had shifted, her urgency overriding any previous animosity. "If our pack finds out, the consequences... you know it better."
Mac's jaw tightened, his gaze locked with his mother's. At that moment, they understood each other without words, the weight of their responsibilities and the secrets they held binding them together.
As they left the cemetery, the unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a silent agreement to protect what remained of Leyla's memory, and the painful truth that Mac carried with him.
"I know very well what's gonna happen and I too know who's responsible for this," he muttered through clenched teeth.
With a firm resolve, he stepped towards the cemetery, each step carrying the weight of his determination. And beside him was his sister, who was showing her full support.
However, as he got closer, his determination seemed to falter. The sight that met his eyes sent a chill down his spine, and his throat tightened with an overwhelming sense of sorrow. There it was, the casket that held the lifeless form of his mate, a poignant reminder of the loss he was grappling with.
His strides grew slower as he approached the casket, his heart heavy with the magnitude of his emotions. He reached out, his fingers tracing the edges of the casket as if seeking a connection.
As his hand made contact with the casket, a flood of memories rushed over him, memories of Leyla, of their time together, of the love that had once flourished between them. A lump formed in his throat, and he closed his eyes briefly, struggling to contain the wellspring of emotions threatening to engulf him.
Gathering his strength, he took a deep breath and let his fingers linger on the casket. With a mixture of tenderness and pain, he whispered words that only the wind and the departed could hear, a final farewell to the woman he had once loved.
With the rituals complete and the somber farewell offered to Leyla, the mourners began to disperse, their footsteps fading away as they returned to the realm of the living. Mac, however, lingered behind, a solitary figure beside the freshly filled grave. His fingers cracked as he flexed his hands, his eyes closed as if lost in a world of his own.
In the quietude of the graveyard, memories resurfaced. Leyla's enchanting eyes, the warmth of her presence, the laughter they had shared – all of it flooded his mind, etching a portrait of regrets. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, a silent lament for the chances he hadn't taken, the words he hadn't spoken.
"I should have fought harder for your trust," he whispered to the wind, his voice carrying the weight of remorse. "Instead, I let doubt cloud my judgment. For that, I'm sorry, Leyla."
Eventually, with the sun inching its way toward the horizon, Mac roused himself from his reverie. With one last lingering gaze at the earth that now held his past, he turned to leave.
As he approached his car, his attention was caught by the distant woods. Beth's image flashed in his mind.
Recalling the other night he had left her in the woods, he muttered to himself, "I just hope the wilds have done their job. If not, then I will come to haunt you and I will make sure you will regret each day for surviving."
With that, he opened the car door and was about to step inside when an urgent cry sliced through the air, tingling his senses and reaching to heat his eardrum. His nostrils flared as he detected a familiar scent, laced this time with fear. Amusement danced in his eyes as he smirked, his mind already concocting a plan.
"Looks like the game is about to get interesting," he muttered, closing back the door.
With a burst of energy, he shot forward like a bolt of lightning, covering the distance with astonishing speed and reaching Beth. Just as he arrived, she collided with him.
As her tear-filled eyes locked onto his, she whispered helplessly, "Save me!"
A fragile plea pierced through the whirlwind of Mac's thoughts. Her words reverberated in his mind, and the resolve he had built, the determination for revenge, wavered bearing no shame at all.
He was no longer the mate of Leyla who was there to avenge her death, neither was he the Alpha Lycan who had nothing to do with human business. His demeanor had suddenly shifted into a protector.
The two men who had approached Beth shared unsure looks, their confidence wavering as they faced Mac's determined presence.
"Hey, you!" Taking out his hate, the man called out, trying to regain his composure. "You better step aside if you know what's good for you!"
Mac's response was a chilling silence, his gaze unwavering. He held her hand and stepped in front of her protectively. His eyes conveyed a strong message, a silent promise to shield her from any danger.
The man let out an exasperated sigh, muttering, "Alright, if that is what you want, then. Come on."
He clenched his fist, signalling him to fight. Gritting his teeth, Mac was about to take a step forward, ready for confrontation. But then he felt Beth's fingers clenching his arm, her touch filled with vulnerability.
"No! Just take me out of here! Please!" Her soft plea reached his ears, her fear visible.
Agreeing with a nod, Mac knelt before her, his fingers deftly working to free her from the leg-hold trap. With a careful touch, he removed the trap and gently examined the bruised skin underneath.
Unaware of the man's approach, Mac's attention was solely on Beth's well-being. However, as the man lunged at him with a fist aimed at his face, Mac's reflexes kicked in. His own fist shot out like lightning, connecting with the man's cheek with a solid impact. The attacker crumpled to the ground, his aggression diffused in an instant.
His fierce gaze locked onto the tattooed man, who quickly retreated, the intent to harm Mac vanishing from his eyes. As he carried Beth protectively, his focus was entirely on ensuring her safety.
Amidst the chaos, he unintentionally stepped into a concealed trap. The moment his weight triggered the mechanism, hastily he let go of her. A net swiftly entangled him, lifting him off the ground and leaving him suspended in midair.
Freed from immediate danger, Beth stood below, her eyes wide with shock and concern for the man who had come to her rescue.
The tattooed man's sinister laughter reverberated through the air as he relished the turn of events seemingly in their favor.