Chapter Twenty-Five: Part Two

I dropped the cloth in the water and backed away from it. It hurt seeing the mark on my neck and knowing just how much Luka despised me. It hurt. It hurt more than I ever thought it would. I shook my head, backing towards the door.

"I can't." I looked at Gamgam and she looked up at me, tears streaking down her cheek. I swallowed thickly. "Luka and I- We did- I can't." I couldn't be in the temple. I couldn't be where we had mated. It hurt too much. The air felt oppressive and Gamgam simply nodded at me.

"Lily will understand." She turned back to her job and I whirled around and bolted, my heart thumping harshly in my chest as I tried put distance between the temple and the images it inspired. The trees were think and the air was cold but I continued running. It was what I was good at after all. Luka had told me as much.

I wiped at my eyes, trying to get rid of the blurriness from the tears as I dashed through the trees. Small branches and bushes scratched at my exposed skin but I ignored the sharp little bursts of pain. They couldn't compare to what I was currently feeling. I had allowed myself to care for him, to open up to him and he had thrown me away like so many others. He was just the same as everyone else I had come across.

I ran until my legs felt like jelly and my breathing was ragged. I ran until I couldn't take another step and collapsed on the edge of a large clearing. I frowned, realizing I had been running in circles. I was standing next to the cemetery, rows of various stones, crosses and other grave markings spread across the clearing. I stared at them, my heart pounding harshly in my chest as I tried to get it to calm down.

I stood up on shaky legs. Moonlight shined down on the clearing, beckoning me forward. I took several stumbling steps forward, my legs burned and wobbled but held me up as I moved into the moonlight. I stared at the names on the markers. The moonlight gave just enough glow to allow me to read the carved letters. I moved passed them all, something was pulling me further into the cemetery. I found myself almost jogging through the rows of graves, my legs protesting the entire time. I was reaching the other edge when I stopped short, my gaze scanning the markers.

Richard Sterling

The name jumped out at me and I looked at empty space beside his grave. It was a space reserved for his mate.

Lily.

It would be where she would lay for eternity. Tears filled my eyes as I stared at it, I didn't want to imagine her in a cold and dark grave but it was something that would happen whether I wanted it to or not. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in before opening them and looking around. I could see a small shed at the edge of the clearing and I didn't have to look into it to know its purpose. I walked over to it. Mene had brought me to the clearing for a reason. She had led me to Lily's resting place for a reason.

Penance.

To dig her grave and in the process lessen the burden of her death off my soul. It hadn't worked with my mother, each shovelful of earth I had pulled from the earth only served to bury me under realization of my actions. Guilt had cemented it in place.

I pulled open the door to the small shed and looked at the numerous shovels that is contained. I let out a small sigh and grabbed the nearest one. It was heavy but it was one thing that deserved its weight. It wasn't meant to be comfortable or light. It was a burden to dig a grave and the tool used to do such an action was a physical representation of that burden. I carried it back to the spot where Lily would rest. The walk wasn't a long one but it weighed down on me all the same. I stopped and stared at the spot for a moment before I set the shovel in front of me, point to the ground and standing tall. I fell to my knees, my forehead pressing to the stained wood of the handle, my hands slightly above my head as I breathed out, trying to ignore the thick feeling I got in my throat.

"Spectaculum luctus. Let me wear them with pride."I murmured the words and the familiar feeling of them rolled down my spine, spreading ice down my limbs as I stood up and dug the shovel into the earth. The very first shovelful of what would grow to be hundreds as I dug the grave. The handle bit into my soft palms but I ignored the uncomfortable feeling as I took another shovelful and then another.

I had done this before. I had buried my mother, dug her grave and then lowered her into it. I had bore the weight of my guilt with my head bowed, I couldn't find the strength to keep it high. I couldn't try and justify what I had done, there was no justification for what had happened. My mother had been the one and only person who had ever loved me without pause. She had killed her mate for me, had protected me, had given me life and I had taken hers away.

That was something that could never be forgiven or justified no matter how hard I begged Mene or pretended it was alright. There was nothing I could do but live with it, under it. I had to hold my shoulders back and pretend it wasn't crushing me under its weight. Some days I forgot the burden, I forgot how badly it was weighing me down and I forgot what I had done but then it would hit me all at once, dragging me down and trying to suffocate me under its intensity.

I dug out more of the earth, a hole was growing and the skin of my palms were starting to protest the harsh wooden handle I held but I continued. The moon shone down on me, its icy light showing Mene's approval. Tears welled up in my eyes and I didn't fight with them as they threatened to fall. There was little I could do to stop them and I would allow myself the tears, where no one but the moon and the dead could see me.

Digging a grave was supposed to make the burden of grief lighter, make it easier to bear on your shoulders but guilt always replaced the grief. There was much for me to feel guilty for. My mother and for Lily. For hurting Luka and the rest of the pack. For taking Lily out of the territory. It didn't matter that I hadn't known, I had still done it. I felt guilty for almost getting Sombro killed, for nearly hurting Ainsley with it had Luka succeeded.

I felt angry at myself too. I was angry that I had given Luka a chance to hurt me, to handle the broken pieces of my heart with the faint hope he would make them better. I hated myself because I had cared about him. I had cared about him and it broke my already broken heart that he was so capable of tossing me away like so many others.

I sniffled wiping my face on my arm as I took another shovelful of earth out of the steadily growing hole. I could feel blisters building on my palms and fingers as I forced my aching body to go through the motions of digging a grave. It would last for weeks. There was a reason for my plea to Mene.

Spectaculum Luctus.

Showing of Mourning.

The layman's terms were Wounds of Grief.

It was what they did in Altia. They said the plea before they dug the grave and the wounds one sustained during the act would linger on their skin for weeks. A physical lamentation of their sorrow. Something they could use to let others know they were in mourning. More often then not it was the family and friends that took turns with the digging, an act of sharing their grief. I didn't have anyone to share it with and the guilt wouldn't let me even if I had anyone.

I wiped my face with my arm again, trying to get rid of the tears in my eyes before I continued. Each time the shovel hit the dirt, it reverberated through me, shaking my very foundations. It reminded me that this wasn't an act of grief but one of repentance and a plea for forgiveness. I knew forgiveness would never come but I would repent as hard as I could regardless. It was all I had.

I didn't know what I was going to do. I didn't want to leave Fortis like Luka had ordered. I had found friends in the territory. People I liked and enjoyed spending time with. I had broken my golden rule of staying separate but I hadn't cared because I believed that I would stay, that it would have been my home. I had never had a home before but Luka had given just that to me and now he was tearing it away.

My heart throbbed in my chest at the thought of losing the small life I had tentatively built around those I had befriended. It hurt almost worse than the thought of leaving Luka. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, waiting for the wave of pain to disappear. It was hot and searing, not unlike the waves of rejection that used to flood my body but this was worse. So much worse than that.

This was heartbreak and it hurt deeper than a rejection. It was a pain that tore at your heart rather than the bond. It was why I had demanded Luka reject me because the pain was that much worse than a simple rejection. He hadn't said the words to reject me but the words he had said were enough. I wiped away the sweat that was building on my forehead before taking a deep breath before adjusting my hands on the unforgiving wooden handle and driving the shovel into the dirt again.

I hadn't expected to have anyone love me but Luka had given me hope that my life could have been better. It was a harsh bitterness to swallow to realize that, as always, I wasn't worth love. I destroyed everything I touched and hurt those I cared about. I had forgotten that and Lily was a painful reminder. I sniffled slightly, quickly trying to wipe off the tears using my shoulder as my muscles protested as I threw a shovelful of dirt onto the slowly growing pile I had started at the end of the grave plot. I dug the shovel back into the dirt and winced as it twisted in my hands, tearing open the blisters. I ignored the pain as I continued my digging.

There was very little I found myself worthy of. I had too many sins against my soul to be allowed to be happy. Killing my mother wasn't the only sin I had, it was just the one that tipped the scales against me permanently. Indiscriminate robberies, killing, and rule breaking. I wasn't a goody-two shoes. I had fought to survive and I had done what I needed to live in our world and it wasn't always pretty. I was a tainted soul.

I wiped at my eyes with the back of my aching hand and sniffled. It did no use to throw myself a pity party. I continued the digging, ignoring the blood that was slowly leaking onto the wooden handle of the shovel. My hands could bleed, it seemed fitting, considering it was a physical representation of what I was currently feeling on the inside. Emotional pain wasn't something a person could see with their eyes. It wasn't something anyone could see. Emotional pain was brutal in the fact that no one could see the damage it truly did to a person.

I was damaged. I understood that, I had accepted it. There was too much trauma in my life to not be damaged in someway. I just didn't see the point in fixing what would only be damaged later. There was no point in closing an emotional wound when another one would open up in the same place. It was easier to guard it, to hold it tightly within yourself, not allowing anyone near it. It was the only way one could survive, could be strong. There was no strength in tears. No strength in feeling.

Emotions were a weakness. It was what my mother had taught me, it had been her biggest lesson. Emotions could be manipulated, twisted, used to hurt. It was best not to feel at all because without them there was no weakness to be exploited. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth as my hand slid across the wood of the handle, sending sharp flaring pain down my arms.

Sweat dotted on my forehead and my arms and legs shook. My stomach muscles cramped but I forced myself to continue my task. There was little else I could do. I wanted to curl up in the hole I was digging, to give into the exhaustion that was making my mind swim and my muscles feel like liquid but the grave needed to be finished.

It was all I could do for Lily, just like it was all I could do for my mother. It was all I could give Luka as well. To dig the grave so the burden fell on my rather than him. He had lost his entire family. He was alone like I was and I never wished that for him. I never wished it for anyone but I had caused it for him. Gamgam could have said what she wanted but the excitement from me taking her out of the territory must have exasperated the aneurysm in Lily's brain. It certainly couldn't have helped it. I wore that guilt as well. I didn't directly kill her but I contributed to it. I was guilty of that.

I was guilty.

It was a mantra I dug to. A chant I wouldn't let escape my lips as I heaved the dirt out of the hole. It was growing deeper and deeper but there was no lessening of the burden. I hadn't expected there to be one but I hadn't expected there to be slowly emptying in my chest. It was if every shovelful I took removed something from my chest, leaving nothingness behind it. A yawning chasm that was centered where my heart beat in my chest.

Everything felt muted and my brain focused to a point as I mechanically shovelled earth up and out of the grave. My body protesting every action, my hands dripping blood from torn skin and muscles but still I pushed on. I pushed on even though my body begged me to quit. An Alpha didn't quit when things grew tough but it was getting harder and harder to see myself as an Alpha.

My wolf was gone, virtually dead. I had no power. I was defenceless and weak. I was everything and Alpha wasn't supposed to be. I was everything my mother had taught me not to be. Her death was in vain, it had meant nothing because I wasn't strong enough to survive. I let the thoughts wash over me. I deserved to have them eat away at me.

I dug more, ignoring the shaking of my hands and arms. Bits of my hair escaped from the brain and swayed around my face, sticking to the sweat that had rolled down my face. The light of the moon was growing dimmer as the sun rose towards the horizon, brightening to the point where Mene's light was drowned out.

I wasn't entire sure how long I had been digging for but in the early morning light I realized it must have been hours. I was finally able to see the damage I had done to my hands. Red was smeared where my hands had held the shovel handle. Drops of my blood had rolled down the handle, creating little red trails on the wood. My hands throbbed in pain as I shifted them on the shovel, taking another scoop of earth out and forcing my arms to lift it up and out of the grave.

The emptiness in my chest was still growing and I felt a strange fuzziness fall over me as I continued my digging. My body seemed to be on autopilot, my mind was eerily silent, a static buzz in my head drowned out all thoughts and sounds. Everything felt strange and my legs wobbled as I tossed out another scoop of dirt. I leaned heavily against the wall of the grave, letting my legs rest for a moment before forcing my body to continue. It was funny how silent the world seemed when exhaustion swarmed you. I couldn't think, could barely breathe but I continued. I had a task to complete.

The sun climbed over the horizon, giving everything a golden glow but I could barely see it as I heaved out one more shovelful of dirt before stopping completely. The shovel fell from my hands and my legs gave out. I curled up on my side, drawing my knees up to my chest as I closed my eyes. I just wanted to wake up and have it all be a dream. I had fallen asleep beside a male I had allowed myself to care for and I had woken up to a nightmare.

Tears dripped from my eyes and I didn't have the energy or strength to wipe them away. Luka hated me. I was partially responsible for his mother's death, that wasn't something someone could easily get over. It wasn't something they could ever get over. I was stupid and acted without thinking. That was the entire reason I had taken Lily out. I had wanted her to be happy and that had been my entire purpose but I hadn't thought of the consequences to my actions.

Every caress and kiss that Luka had given to me, every flare of heat he had created in my nerves and veins had been cheapened by my actions. Turned to ash and dust, bitterness tainting the pleasure he had given me because I did not deserve it. I had allowed myself to care for a male and I had been punished for it. Lily had been punished for it. I was born through rejection and I would die from it.

Tremors wracked my frame as I hovered on the edge of consciousness and the darkness that promised me sanctuary from the world for a brief moment but I couldn't slip into it. I couldn't fall into the comfort of the darkness, my stomach twisted and churned too hard to allow me to. Hovering on the edge but never descending, I felt like I would go insane. My body needed the sleep, needed the darkness but the guilt kept me away from it.

"There you are." The voice was deep and rumbling and I shivered under the coldness it held. I wanted to look at the male speaking but my muscles protested the motion, refusing to move, screaming at me in pain. I couldn't even open my eyes or mouth. All my energy was gone and all that remained at a hollowed out shell of who I used to be. If I was aware of anything in my life it was that this incident wouldn't be one that I could bounce back from. I was done. "Not even going to begin to question why you are out here alone." I could hear boots landing in the grave and I could feel the vibrations it sent through the earth.

"Carrie sent me to retrieve you." The male gently picked me up, cradling my in his arms. I felt highly uncomfortable being held by him but I trusted Gamgam enough not to send someone dangerous to fetch me. I was vaguely aware of him lifting me out of the hole I had dug, setting me on the ground before there was the sound of someone getting out of the grave beside me. The strange male picked me up again and started walking.

My head lolled back and forth on his shoulder as he walked. I wasn't able to open my eyes but I was able to tell he was a large male from his frame and how small his arms and chest seemed to make me feel. I wasn't a small person by any means but he was on a whole different level, not to mention the pure dominance that radiated off of him. He was an Alpha but I didn't have the energy to care.

I felt hollow, used up, drained. I was at the end of my rope and I didn't know if I had the energy to pull myself back up it. How did one pick themselves back up after being pushed down so hard? I had been shoved down a cliff and had my ropes cut. There was no way out. I had done one too many bad things in my life. I had robbed, killed, and manipulated. I had killed my mother, contributed to Lily's death. I had hurt Luka and in the process broke my own heart. There wasn't much left after all that.

I pushed the thoughts away, they did nothing for me but service a self-defeating attitude. It was easy to feel sorry for myself, to linger in the pity and ignore the reality. I struggled to open my eyes but it hurt too much to even try so I continued to lay limply in the male's arms. He was silent, his grip was gentle but polite, his hands and arms not brushing anything that might have been deemed indecent. The rocking motion of his arms was coaxing my body towards the darkness and I tried my hardest to push towards it. I ended up lingering on the edge once more, unable to cross.

I hovered between the two, wondering if the reason was the guilt or the growing pain in my limbs that prevented my exhausted fall into sleep. I couldn't think with how my brain was spinning and swirling in my skull. I couldn't concentrate and there was a headache building at the base of my skull. It was from lack of sleep, from stress and more than likely from the guilt that ran through my veins, a slow and painful poison that wouldn't kill be but leave me incapacitated.

The sun had risen higher into the sky. We were passing through the forest, the sun was unable to touch us but I could tell how high it had risen from how much of a glow I could see from behind my eyelids. I focused on breathing in and out deeply, ignoring the pain of my ribs as I did so. I wondered what muscles in my body weren't in complete lock down.

"You found her!" Gamgam sounded overly relieved and the male shifted me in his arms.

"She was in the cemetery, in the bottom of a grave she had apparently dug." His voice was slightly gruff with a note of slight concern.

Gamgam made a sound of distress before her slightly rough, warm hand brushed my sticky cheek. "Oh Shey..." She smoothed my hair back and she sniffled lightly, her voice sounded a bit nasally. It wasn't hard to tell she had been crying. "Azrael, can you take her upstairs? I have to take-" She gave a small gasp of shock before she grabbed my wrist, more than likely taking in the state of my palm and fingers. "Oh, no. What happened to her?" She sounded overly distressed and the guilt surged in me. I hadn't wanted to worry Gamgam, to distress her.

"It's okay, Carrie. I'll make sure she is taken care of." It was the male I called earlier. Azrael. Gamgam cupped my face and her lips pressed against my cheek.

"Just make sure she's okay, Azrael, and bandage her hands... they look brutal." Her voice wavered as she kissed my cheek again. I wanted to tell her it was okay but my voice had failed me.

"I'll take care of her, Carrie."

"I know you will." She sniffled again and Azrael shifted me slightly before we were walking again. I wanted to force my eyes to open but they weren't co-operating, none of my body was cooperating with me. I gave a slight groan as i tried to force my eyes open.

"Easy. From what I saw you did something your body wasn't exactly capable of handling." His cold, rumbling voice was slightly reprimanding and I was able to force my eyes to crack open. Everything was almost too bright but I managed to open my eyes a bit more. The house was silent and nothing had truly changed. I felt like it should have. There should have been a physical mark in the house to show what had happened.

We hit the stairs and my eyes slipped closed again. The action was more exhausting that it should have been but that was how the wounds of grief went. Every single injury was one that wouldn't heal easily. It was a reminder of what had happened. My muscles would take upwards of three weeks to fully recover. After I had dug my mother's grave it had taken two and a half weeks to be able to move without debilitating pain. There was a reason the burden was shared among others.

Although I felt a bit more optimistic that my legs weren't as bad as my arms. They didn't ache as badly as my shoulders or back. My arms were nearly completely numb and my hands were just starting to wake up. The sharp agony was bringing me further away from the exhaustion in my mind. Pain always brought clarity. By the time I had forced my eyes to open again we were in a bathroom and Azrael set me down on the toilet.

"Can you sit?" He crouched in front of me and I let out a small groan, my eyes closing as I forced my aching body to sit still and not keel over. "Okay. I'm going to run you a bath." He patted my shoulder before moving out of my vision. The sound of running water filled the room and my head slumped forward, my eyes landing on my hands. They were streaked with blood and my palms were a mess. I could see torn open blisters, new ones, and various patches where my skin had been rubbed off completely.

"I'll wrap those for you." Azrael's large hand gripped my wrist, lifting my hand to inspect the damage. "They aren't healing." He sounded puzzled and he lifted his gaze, his dark blue eyes locking onto mine. I stared at him for a few moments before I looked away. My point was clear, there was no wolf behind my gaze and he coughed lightly as if clearing his throat.

"I apologize. I should have seen that." He put my hand down and moved out of my view. I closed my eyes again, breathing out, trying to deal with the pain that was rolling over me. I could feel the steam from the tub settling around me. It touched my bare skin and kissed the back of my throat as I inhaled. The room was filling with it. I cracked my eyes open again. It was getting easier to move my eyelids. The tub was shut off and Azrael moved back in front of me. "Let's get that off." He grabbed the edge of the t-shirt and gently lifted it over my head. I felt slightly uncomfortable but Azrael didn't seem bothered by it, his eyes never straying from my face when I looked at him.

"Luka doesn't know this but I view him as a brother." His cold voice turned almost soft as he gently helped me to my feet and into the hot bubbly water. "He has a lot of mountain blood in him, it called to me and he was lost when I first met him. He is still lost." His voice was oddly soothing as he helped me sit down. My muscles protested angrily and my face twisted into a grimace at the flaring pain. My hands sunk into the water and the pain brought tears to my eyes but I didn't have the strength to bring them back out of the water. The tub was deep and covered up to a few inches below my collarbone.

"He lost most of his family and was in a position his parents never prepared him for. He was young too, five years younger than me. I helped him, took him under my wing." He poured water over my head, wetting my hair and I watched his hands warily as he reached for a bottle of shampoo. "That is why I am doing this." He poured some of the shampoo onto his hand before he started to lather it into my hair. My eyes went half-lidded at the feeling. Having someone scratch your scalp was a wondrously calming feeling.

"I will take care of my family. If my brother is incapable or unavailable I will care for his mate like she were part of my family. As if she were my own blood, my sister. And I hope, in return, that if I were incapable or unable that Luka would take care of my mate the same." His hands were efficient and borderline affectionate as he rinsed out my hair, trying to keep the soap out of my eyes. "I'm a bit out of practice. The last time I washed someone was my littlest sister and that was a good two years ago. Her name is Clary. She's turning six and is a handful." His chuckle was rich as he rinsed my hair again, making sure all of the soap was gone from my hair.

"I am one of fourteen. Well was. I only have six siblings left. The mountains are harsh on babies and children." He sounded a bit pensive as he grabbed my left arm and pulled my hand from the water. He gently wiped at the torn flesh, taking the dirt out of each cut. "There is Clary, the youngest at six. Brin at fourteen. Aiden and Caeda at twenty-two. Larissa at twenty-nine, Brice at thirty-four, and finally Mason at thirty seven. We tend to have large families in the mountains." He set my left arm on the edge of the tub, keeping it out of the water before he grabbed my other arm and started cleaning my hand.

"I was fifth born. There was Brice, Liam, Noah, and Mason in front of me. Mason was firstborn but he lacked the drive to be Alpha." He set my arm down on the ledge before he gently wiped at my face, cleaning away tears and dirt. "In the mountains the order of birth really means nothing. Firstborns do hold more power but as pups we would always play fight, the power was always shifting hands. I just happened to be the one who could hold onto that power." He wrung out the cloth and set it off to the side before moving to grab a towel. My eyes followed him my neck allowing a bit of painful movement. He grabbed a large fluffy towel from the cabinet before throwing it over his shoulder and returning to help me to my feet.

"No need to worry about the rest of you. I know better than to clean where I should not look. No need for Luka to find a reason to tear my throat out." He gave me a wide grin as he wrapped the towel around me tightly. His face looked strange with a smile. I lowered my gaze from his face to the floor and he wrapped an arm around my waist, helping me walk out of the bathroom. We were in my room and he half carried me to the bed and sat me down on it. "I'm going to get some wraps for those hands of yours." He disappeared back into the bathroom and I let out a small sigh, my shoulders slumping under the weight I carried on them. So much guilt blanketed me it was almost hard to breathe. There was the sound of rummaging and a few curses as Azrael searched the bathroom for the first aid kit.

"No clue why it was in the back of the cabinet." He walked out of the bathroom and I followed him with a watchful and slightly wary gaze. I wasn't in a very trusting mood. He crouched in front of me before grabbing one of my hands and set about working some paste into the wounds. I hissed at the pain and he muttered an apology before he started to wrap them with gauze. He finished wrapping it before he tested the tightness, he seemed satisfied as he nodded. He grabbed my other hand and did the same to it. "These are almost like wounds of grief." His eyes narrowed at me slightly and I stared at him, unphased by his rolling dominance and power. He let out a sigh.

"Only those in Altia do this." If he was expecting a response I wasn't about to give him one. My voice seemed to have abandoned me and I wasn't too keen on looking for it either. I would more than likely start sobbing again and I refused to do that. "You know, if you didn't look like you belonged in the grave I pulled out out of, I might be offended at your lack of effort in communicating with me." He tied off the bandage and let my hand drop before he stood up with a heavy sigh.

"I'm going to find you some clothes." He moved away and I stared at the bulky bandages he had wrapped around my hands. The paste he had put into my wounds seemed to be a pain reliever and my hands tingled as they went slightly numb. The emptiness in my chest hadn't lessened, it had only seemed to have grown. There was nothing there, no pain, no emotion other than guilt. Azrael came back holding out a long sleeved shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. "I doubt Lily would mind your attire." He said it softly as he pulled the shirt over my head. He tugged the towel away as he helped me pull my arms through the sleeves before he helped me stand up and put the pants on. He sat me back on the bed and towel dried my hair before he gathered my hair up and started to french braid it.

"Any male worth his salt knows how to braid hair. Easiest way to keep your hair out of your face during battle." His fingers were slightly clumsy but quick as he braided my hair down the back of my head. He finished it off with an elastic he pulled from the first aid kit. "There. If there is one thing I am certain of, it is that this could very well be a battle." He looked at me and as I lifted my head to meet his gaze I had the urge to let him know that it wasn't going to be a battle, it would be a massacre.