I don't quite recall what happened after that. Maxton walked away from me, that much I know. I think I ran home. I left all my stuff in the Archives because I couldn't bear to go back. Not that it mattered. I'll be back soon for work.
That's how I ended up here, in the four-bedroom house I share with my parents, curled up on my bed, crying my eyes out. I thought I was good at dealing with hurt. I've always been able to get over it.
I accepted my parents constantly favoring Blessing over me. I accepted being shunned by my packmates as a child because I was a bit too weird, a bit too nerdy for their taste. I accepted Blessing mean remarks and backhanded comments. I accepted it. I got over it. Always. Because I thought it would be worth it. I could be the second choice. I could be shunned. I could have nobody as long as I eventually had my mate.
But I don't have him. Never did. Never will. And I just can't accept this.
It hurts so much. My whole body aches from the loss of the mate bond, like a vital organ has been ripped from my chest with no way to put it back.
I can't move. I can hardly breathe. The physical pain is crippling me, but the emotional pain is destroying me.
Questions that I already know the answer to plague my mind like a pesky fly. Something that's always around you and you're always aware of, but something you wish would just leave you alone.
Why doesn't he want me? Why can't we be mates? What is wrong with me? What am I never good enough?
The answer? Because I'm me. And for whatever reason, the Moon Goddess decreed that I would never be good enough as myself.
I know I have flaws. I'm not as skinny as the other she-wolves. I'm not as tall as them. I don't have perfect skin. I'm not athletically gifted. I'm a bit shy. A bit awkward. I spend too much time in the Archives and not enough with people my age.
But Goddess, I try. I try so hard. To be pretty, to make friends, to work hard. I never talk back to my parents. I never insult Blessing, even when she insults me. I never get mad at anyone. I smile at people. I try to be kind. I try to be helpful.
So why doesn't it work? What's so wrong, so unloveable, about me?
I don't know.
I can faintly hear my sobs in between the ringing of my ears. I know being loud, I'm taking up so much space, but I can't seem to stop. My bedroom is next to the front entrance, so I hear when two people step inside.
Mom and Dad. I know they hear me right away because their steps hurriedly approach my room. The door swings open, and then my head is on Mom's lap. She's stroking my hair and Dad places a large, comforting hand on my back.
"Hazel? Hazel, honey, what's wrong?" Mom asks worriedly. I try to respond but I can't. Everything hurts. I can't breathe. Only loud whimpers escape my throat. Dad's hand starts circling between my shoulder blades in comfort, but I can only curl into Mom's lap more.
"Hazel?" He can't keep the panic out of his voice. "Hazel, breathe, you have to breathe."
I try to calm myself, to breathe like he's telling me to.
"My mate," I gasp before my throat constricts in more sobs. "He-he," I can't stop stuttering either. "He rejected me!" I finally get it out. I feel their hands pause.
"Oh, honey," Mom's voice is watery, "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry, honey." She's crying now too, I realize. Dad shifts his position so he's holding us both.
The pain feels a little more bearable now with them beside me. I revel in the warm comfort of my parents as my sobs start to quiet down. We stay like that for 30 minutes. I can't stop the whimpers and hiccups that escape me or my pounding headache, but I'm no longer sobbing. The pit of anxiety in my stomach even starts to fade.
Until the front door opens again, and I know exactly who steps through it based on the clatter of heels in the foyer.
Blessing immediately heads towards my room. She stops in the doorway and takes us in with one eyebrow raised.
"What's going on here?" She asks with the same sneer she always wears. The way she looks at me has my throat constricting again, and I can't help the whimper that escapes.
"Blessing," Dad shakes his head, "now isn't a good time." Of the two of them, Dad is the one who at least attempts to take my side and is aware of how Blessing can be.
"You know, her mate is Alpha Maxton," she says. I'm shaking again; the sobs are bubbling up in my throat, and it takes everything not to break down at the sound of his name. I can see them give her stern looks out of the side of my eye as if to say, stop.
Blessing, being Blessing, continues anyway, of course. "It makes sense. I mean, look at her!" she waves a hand at me, "Why would the Alpha want to be with her."
I can't stop the cries from escaping my throat any longer. She's right. I know she is. That doesn't mean it hurts any less hearing it out loud.
"Blessing!" Mom sits up and admonishes her, "Go to your room right this instant!"
"But Mommy-" she tries to pout.
"Now!" Mom finishes. Blessing rolls her eyes and walks away. Mom sighs and shakes her head
"You know she doesn't mean it, right Hazel?" She says in a gentle voice, "Your sister wouldn't say something like that." She tries to wrap her arms around me, but my anger is already replacing my sadness, so I push her away. I sit up. Tears are still streaming down my face, and I'm hiccuping and stuttering, and I know I can hardly make a coherent sentence, but I'm just so angry.
Blessing came in here to make fun of me for one of the worst things a wolf can go through, and all my mom can say is "she doesn't mean it?"
"You always make excuses for her," I string the words together the best that I can through my hiccups. Mom opens her mouth to reply, and I know she'll just defend her, so I keep going. "Blessing would say that and she literally did. She meant it, too."
"Hazel!" She scolds me now. "Don't talk about your sister like that!"
I burst into another fit of sobs because what the hell?  Why am I getting scolded?
"Mira, stop," Dad says to his mate in an attempt to rectify the situation. He reaches out for me but I just push him away. My tears are burning into my skin, the anger rising inside of me with every shaking breath.
"Get. Out." I say through gritted teeth, controlling my breath so the words come out steady. My parents look taken aback. I've never spoken to them this way. The habit of being an absolute bitch to them is usually reserved for Blessing. "If you're just going to sit here and defend her, get out."
It's not their fault. I know it isn't. But Goddess, I'm a mess. I can't control my emotions, or my words, or my actions, or anything right now. But I'm just so angry. At Maxton. At Blessing. At my parents. At everything.
"Hazel, honey," my mom readopts her gentle voice. "Honey, let us help you."
"Get out." please don't leave. "I want to be alone." don't leave me alone. "I don't need your help." please help me. "I'm fine now." I'm falling apart.
They give each other worried looks but concede anyway, getting up from my bed in unison.
"If you need anything, let us know," Mom whispers. I give no response. They walk outside and close the door, leaving me alone. I pass out.
_____________________________________________
I'm not sure how time passed, but it did. Everything slowed to a tedious crawl. The previous tidal wave of emotions abandoned me, creeping back into the dark abyss they came from, and I've been left to feel nothing at all instead. I'm lying on my back with my eyes closed.
In the darkness behind my eyelids, I wander deep inside of myself to a barren landscape. It feels like there should be more here, more to me, but there isn't.
I'm seeing my bonds, I realize. It wasn't so much as seeing as it was feeling. The feeling created a manifestation of an image in my mind. Three bonds. I only have three.
They feel like strings, tying me to my pack mates. Two were loose and frayed but still bright. Bonds don't have a color, of course, they're not physical things, but to me, they look gold. They remind me of a rope, one that you would use in a game of tug-of-war. Strong at first, with two chords wound together, but weathered and frayed over time after all that tugging.
Mom and Dad, I know it's them. I faintly realize I should feel more disheartened at seeing the worn-out bond with my parents. But I've felt all the sadness possible today. I have no more feelings to feel.
The bond next to theirs is taut and sturdy. But its dimmer, and the rope isn't as thick. This must be Florentine, one of the only packmates I interact with on a daily basis.
Next to her, there's a gaping void that feels like it's burning me inside and out. Even simply focusing on it brings a sharp pain to my chest. It's a dark and monstrous thing, and it feels so big. Like it's expanding.
It is expanding, I realize. Its edges are burning with a golden fire, widening its expanse and threatening to burn the rest of my bonds to a crisp.
Rope burns, after all.
This was my mate bond. Or what was left of it. Just feeling the depth of emptiness made me want never to get up again.
But there's something else in this big void of nothingness. It's hard to feel, but it's there. Something else exists in me, and it doesn't feel like the other bonds. It doesn't feel so worn-down, so tattered, so broken and charred. It feels almost new. The way a new book feels with its crisp pages. Or the way a flower blooms, its petals unfurling in the sun to show its beauty. But it's taking everything in me to ignore the gaping hole in my being and simply focus on this thing. And Goddess, I want to ignore it. I want to give in so badly, to just let go and wander into the emptiness and feel nothing ever again. But for some reason, I know I need to see it, to feel it.
I focus harder. I see a shimmery silver silhouette, and it's pulsing like a heartbeat. In the barren landscape of what should be my bonds, this is the only thing that gives sound. So I strain, and I struggle, and I try harder. It comes into view.
It's a sapling.
Small but alive.
I can see its roots, a small network of shimmering lines. It feels different than all my other bonds, or lack thereof. The silver sapling feels warm to the touch, like a bonfire on a cold night or even a mug of hot chocolate. It's so pretty. The most beautiful gray. And it feels so nice. And for a few seconds, it makes me forget about the gaping hole in my being. Even though there is a hole, even though everything feels so empty, this sapling is here, in me. I'm not sure what it is. Or why it's here. But it makes me want to hold on and figure it out.
With great strength, I try to put out the burning edges of the empty mate bond and fill in the hole. I try, and I try, and I try. But I can't seem to make it smaller. But with the sapling in mind, I manage to stop it from spreading. It should be enough for now. With that thought, I finally drift off to sleep, warmed by the little sapling of shimmering silver living in me.
Word Count: 2118 words
HAZEL!! MY POOR GIRL!!!
Ugh, idk how much longer I can write this torture. How are we feeling after this chapter???
What are your thoughts on Hazel's parents? More to come soon! Please vote and comment. I want to hear your thoughts!
I hope you have a wonderful day <3
Love, libahrary