It's been days now, and I felt like I was losing my mind. The pack house, usually full of life, was now quiet and sad, mourning the loss of their Luna. Violet had been their light, their joy. She had been everything. Now she was gone.
"Just stop with the whole pity party. You barely loved her while she was alive," Ares' voice cut through my thoughts like a blade. With every single passing day, he always reminded me of my crime, murder.
"I think that's enough, Ares," I rolled my eyes, wishing I could see him face-to-face and punch him.
"Is it?" I could hear the smirk in his voice.
"I never forced her to leave, did I?" Now I was really pissed.
"No, you didn't. In fact, you didn't have a hand at all in her death. You're very much innocent," he scoffed, and I gritted my teeth. It was horrible not being able to think clearly in such situations.
"Fuck off," I hissed.
Pulling out my car key, I stepped into my home, which now felt like a house, nothing compared to how it was when Violet was around.
Andrew, the butler, greeted me with a short nod he was customary to and held the door aside for me.
The house, like the rest of the pack, was strangely less busy, almost empty if you asked. Gone was the delicious aroma of gravy sauce, roasted potatoes, and grilled chicken, all of which Violet made sure to prepare with little or no assistance. Now it smelled a bit dusty.
"I thought Emily was better at everything? Don't you miss her meals too?" Ares deadpanned, but I managed to ignore him.
I looked up to the stairs, half expecting to see Violet coming down, a wide smile on her face and her eyes bright with genuine happiness and contentment, the gentle sway of her hips as she moved gracefully to greet me with a warm hug.
"And when was the last time that happened?" Ares snorted. I blocked my ears childishly, trying to block his voice out of my head.
"Where's everyone?" I turned around to ask Andrew.
"I'm afraid they're all gone," he said gloomily, and I nodded.
Biting my lips to stop myself from cursing, I moved along the house observantly, a feeling of nostalgia overwhelming me as each corner, each piece of art and furniture reminded me of Violet.
Exactly five years ago, I'd ditched Emily and married her friend, Violet. The betrayal had caused a strain between all of us, caused several feelings to develop and even become stronger. Emily had left the pack after that and came back only recently... with cancer.
I'd hoped to right my wrongs being that these were her last days, that was the least I could do for her, but now it only seemed like righting her wrongs caused me a great deal. The sacrifices were big. I hoped she would die peacefully at least. Since I'd somehow messed up Violet's life, I was determined not to let the same thing happen to Emily even if it meant making her Luna. She was my first love and forever would be.
"Damn it!" I cursed in a low voice. It just had to take me this long to realize I loved Violet, and when it dawned on me she was dead, and also because I'd been a fool.
Slumping to the ground, I let a line of tears roll down my cheeks freely and soon my arms began to shudder. A great pang of regret took over me. I'd done everything humanly wrong. My dad had left the pack with my mom, perhaps on his extinction. Violet was dead, and only in her death did I manage to discover her worth, her impact. Speaking of medicine after death.
I was about to delve lower into my depression when I heard the main door open. Standing up quickly, I wiped off my tears with the sleeves of my shirt and headed towards the sound.
It was Reynold. His eyes were pink and his face held a grim expression. I could only imagine he thought I was a monster.
"The house sounds quiet," he observed, and I nodded. We stared at each other for something before he broke it. Like me too, his eyes landed on the stairs, and I heard a loud sigh.
"I'll go get some beer," I said to no one in particular and headed to the bar. I mostly drank whisky or vodka, and in lighter moods, cocktails, but today I didn't want to be reminded of the pleasures of life.
I returned with two bottles of Heineken.
"You okay?" Reynold asked before taking a swig of his beer.
"I'm alive," I replied, bored.
"You don't have to blame yourself," he blurted. I felt my hands tighten around my bottle.
"I came here to tell you about Emily. She's sick, coughing blood, yet she doesn't want the royal doctor to attend to her," Reynold added, and I didn't miss the scoff in his tone.
"She's not very keen on letting everyone know her business," I defended weakly.
"Sure," he scoffed, "more likely she sounds fishy."
"You don't know Emily. I don't expect you'll agree with her on anything, especially given the circumstances," I said. I could feel myself growing slightly angry.
"And Dr. Harris is going to go around telling her businesses? That's a load of bull crap," Reynold hissed, his eyes staring straight at me, making me uneasy. He was right. Dr. Harris, the royal doctor, was the most discreet person to treat Emily.
"Look, it's what she wants, okay?" I rolled my eyes and then dropped the empty bottle on the ground.
"Take it from me, she's hiding something. I only hope it's not too ugly," he snickered. I decided to ignore him.
There were too many thoughts for me to process in my brain, which I began to see as rather small. Violet's death was already a big shock that had affected not only my family and me, Ares and my relationship, but even the pack. And now I had to think of Emily. Emily, who seemed to be in a fight with death.
"Why me?" I asked in a very low whisper.