Chapter 106
The Silverback Alpha watches her slow ascent up the stairs. She’s holding the banister for support, taking one slow step at a time. I notice that Luna Grace has tears in her eyes at what she’s seeing.
The door is closed to the basement, but I can hear the faint laughter, the beat of the music softly drifting up, wrapping around our bodies, but we are not laughing. We are all trying
hard not to let our emotions out.
“Cash.” The vibration of sound ripples through my body as if I’m standing right beside a speaker at a concert during the drum solo. One word spoke so effectively that not too long
after, the door opens to the basement.
Eyes that hold whispering shame look to his parents, such gaping sadness in them. Didn’t I hear laughter from down below? He doesn’t look like he was laughing
Alpha Clinton puts his hands on his son’s shoulders. Cash can’t meet his father’s eyes. Luna
Grace has her hand on her son’s back before they lead him to another part of the house and
shut the door behind them.
pick up Kennedy’s packages off the floor; my bad arm is able to hold the weight of a few- bags filled with clothes. My good arm carries her books she bought. Walking up the steps, I set my own packages down on my bed before going to her room.
With a little knock on the door, I open it. The mural is outstanding perfection; it’s as if she is pouring her soul into this masterpiece. I think she must be thinking of doing all the walls with the way there are faint lines of ideas on everything. Even the ceiling has traces of clouds and a moon looking down.
I can see Cash’s wolf in most of the scenes. She’s depicting him as the leader wolf, stronger than any of the wolves around him. She’s created pictures of these pups‘ father as the ruler in this room. No weakness can be seen in his wolf’s body, standing tall and erect, head held high, eyes that don’t look down. I don’t see a trace of her wolf in any of these pictures.
Her bed is made, and I don’t think she has slept in it for a very long time, with the way the paints and brushes are scattered over the top. Looking around, I don’t see her, but I can
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The Alpha’s Greatest Mistake
hear her muffled cries. The pillow she’s using to hide her grief must be saturated in her feelings.
The only other place she can be is in her closet. Do I really want to open the door?
“Please leave.” A choking sound comes out from behind the door.
The door creaks as I open it slowly. Cash’s scent is mixed in with hers. I notice the way home of his shirts are hanging up without any of her clothes in here. I’m intruding in her den. It’s dark and smells like her mate. She’s curled up on the carpeted floor, head buried into her pillow, with her back facing me. A few of his clothes are placed around her small pregnant belly.
This is the most pitiful sight I have ever seen.
What do I say?
There is no joy in my heart in seeing this; it doesn’t make me happy as I thought it would. It sickens me, because I see me on that floor, with my mouth buried in that pillow. I can’t even enjoy her pain because it’s my pain I’m seeing.
“I’m not sure what to say to you,” I tell her the truth.
She cries harder into the pillow that muffles the sound, trying to hold herself tight in her own arms; I don’t think they are strong enough anymore.
I hear an intake of breath from behind me. Cash is standing at the entrance to her room, looking at the art on the wall.
It’s as if he’s seeing this for the first time. He looks at everything.
A wave of shame his eyes can’t hide crosses his face as he looks at his wolf form so full of pride, yet he’s not holding that pride in himself right now.
His eyes dart to the floor on the carpet. He’s seeing his mate curled into herself.
A tremble on his lip, he inhales and exhales slowly.
“Please leave.” Her plea comes out ragged.
She looks hollow, as if her bones have no more marrow left in them, empty and brittle, ready to snap without hope of repair.
Cash turns around and walks out the door into his room without saying a word to her.
Cash,” I call out to
him.
“Don’t, Rya. I deserve this. Please just leave.”
“But-”
“Rya, I’m sorry for everything. I’m truly sorry for what I’ve done to you.” She keeps her back to me, the words barely whispered out.
“I was so wrong. I’m wrong, everything about me is wrong. Just go, please.” Her words are a begging plea. Closing the closet door per her request, I cast her in her own darkness.
This isn’t justice. An eye for an eye doesn’t free you from your past pains. You think that seeing another person suffer would ease the suffering you went through, but it doesn’t.
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