Kayla wipes the tears from her face as she sees me entering the apothecary. Her dark skin tone shimmers against the many coloured liquids bubbling throughout the apothecary in the beakers, flasks, pipettes, and test tubes. Her long, dense wavy hair sits in a large braid with thick gold chains. Kayla’s obsidian eyes flicker with sadness as she holds her arms out and approaches to embrace me.
‘Lylah,’ she sobs. ‘I’m so sorry.’
I allow her to embrace me, even though I don’t want to be touched by anyone, ‘I’ve come to see Micah,’ I whisper.
‘Of course,’ Kayla nods and walks me down the spiral stone slope. There are tall wooden shelves along every wall that reach the ceiling. The shelves are mainly stacked with books with objects, such as the odd animal skull, candles, and jars. Tables are aligned with Bunsen burners, tripods, flasks, mortar, and pestle. There are bottles of potions and other substances. Bouquet garnies of parsley stalks, bay leaves, thyme, rosemary, tarragon, basil and more hang low within hands reach. There are cobwebs everywhere. You would never guess. Kayla lives down here. The air is hazy due to the bubbling of liquids and the mist floating from the cauldron. I halt as I see a heavy wooden table with an open casket. My hands tremble, and I try to ease my breathing as I slowly approach. I stop myself from approaching before turning to Kayla.
‘I’d like some time alone with Micah, please.’
‘Take your time, Lylah. I’ll go upstairs to the kitchen,’ she says.
I watch Kayla walk up the spiral ramp and exit the apothecary. I Turn my attention to the casket and gaze at the hundreds of flowers that surround the casket. Kayla has also added candles amongst them. I watch the flames dance and flicker in a trance.
‘Micah can’t be dead. He can’t be gone. It’s all just a dream. A really bad dream,’ I say, approaching him as slowly as possible. The first thing I notice is Micah’s sandy-coloured hair, neatly combed. His skin is the palest I have ever seen, but then I remember he was drained of so much blood. A lump forms in my throat, and I blink away the tears. His eyes are closed. I desperately want to see them. I reach out and stroke his cheek and feel broken at the thought I will never see his beautiful sable eyes again. His lips are pursed together. He looks content and peaceful. I place my hand over his that are clasped together. He is dressed in a black suit, tie, and white shirt. I lie my head near his shoulder and cry. I remain there for hours and think of all the time we spent together over the last three years until our last night when we made love for the first and last time together.
My chest begins to ache again. I’ll never get to see Micah’s eyes again. I’ll never hear him tell me he loves me again, and I’ll never be able to make love to him again.
I stand, lean over and leave my final kiss on his lips. ‘I love you so, so much, Micah. I love you so much that it hurts. I will never forget you, and I will always love you.’
I take in all his facial features one last time and comb my fingers through his hair. I blow out the candles and slowly walk away up the circular ramp. I lean against the door as I close it and wipe the tears from my face. My sobs echo through the corridor. I’m glad no one is around to hear them. In a silent trance-like walk, I return up the stairs to my chamber. I sit in the bare corner of my room, hug my knees, and stare at the stone wall.
After a while, there’s a knock on my door. Sally enters with a tray of food. She frowns when she sees me huddled in the corner.
‘Lylah, I brought you some dinner. You should sit on the bed where it’s warmer and have something to eat?’ she suggests.
I don’t respond.
‘Okay, I’m going to shut the doors to your terrace. It will be nightfall soon,’ Sally says and closes them. ‘Your dinner is on your bedside table. I’ll check on you soon,’ she says, hesitantly leaving the room.
It’s nightfall, and I haven’t moved. Bella has come to check on me. She notices I haven't eaten, but she doesn’t mention it. ‘It’s really cold in here, Lylah. I’m going to start the fire up for you,’ she says, igniting the sticks and wood alight in my fireplace. The fire gives my room a beautiful glow. I silently watch the shadows on the wall form from the fire. Bella takes my tray of cold food and leaves my room.
It must be the middle of the night. Lacking energy, I crawl across my floor and climb into bed. I throw the sheet over myself and hide there for the rest of the night. I’m not sure if I slept. I’m unsure if I was remembering moments with Micah or if I had fallen asleep and dreamt them.
I sit up when I hear a knock on my door. I don’t say anything. My mother enters. She looks at my puffy face and red eyes. My hair is unkempt, and I have dark rings under my eyes. I can tell she also has not had much rest. She walks over, sits next to me, and wraps her arms around me. We sit silent and hug each other. It’s a silence where words aren’t needed as the actions speak for themselves.
My Dad enters a few moments later, carrying a tray with a glass of juice and a bowl of cereal. He looks awful. The dark patches under his eyes match mine. He places the tray on my bedside table and opens the doors to my terrace. Expecting sunshine, but all we see is the sky full of dark heavy clouds. My Dad sighs and walks over to me, placing a kiss on my forehead and sits with Mum and me.
He leans over, picks up the glass of juice and passes it to me, ‘Drink,’ he says using his Alpha tone. Unable to disobey, I drink the juice and pass him back the empty glass. The juice was refreshing as much as I didn’t want to eat or drink. I lick the remnants from my lips.
‘Do you want help to get ready for Micah’s burial?’ Mother asks.
I shake my head, ‘No, I can do it,’ I reply softly.
‘We will leave you to it then,’ my father says, and they leave the room.
I put my thin white dressing gown on and sit out on my terrace. It’s cold, and it looks like it will rain soon. I look down at the garden and see a plot has already been dug out, ready for Micah. My lips tremble, and I fight back the tears and the lump forming in my throat.
Flashbacks of darkness appear. I can’t see Micah, but I can hear him. He whimpers in pain but continues to fight the vampires off. I reach my arms out, trying to feel him, to help him, but as I feel myself getting closer to him. I snap out of the flashback, and he is gone, ‘Micah!’ I yell, breathing heavily. Hugging myself, I return to my room and shut the terrace doors.
I give myself a moment before walking over to my set of draws. I gather black leggings, a black shirt and a black hoodie and put them on. My boots aren't in their usual spot. I search my wardrobe, check the bathroom, and then the terrace. Finally, I find them under my bed. My dagger glistens from the light, grabbing my attention. I walk over to my display of knives and pick up the dagger Micah gave me. It still has blood on it from where I managed to stab the bastard vampires. I glare, staring at the blood. If I ever see a vampire, I will kill them at first glance. They will regret killing my mate. I will make their lives hell. They will regret ever being born. Taking a cloth, I clean my dagger, grab the stone I use to sharpen my weapons and spend the next hour polishing and sharpening my dagger. Holding it, I run my fingers over the engraved eye. ‘I miss you so much,’ I whisper.
A knock on the door startles me. I stand and tuck the dagger into the waist of my leggings and open the door. It’s Amara and Billy. Amara has her hair in a neat bun with small white stone flowers. She wears a black dress with a black cardigan and shoes. Billy is dressed in a black suit and has his hair combed to one side.
‘We thought you might want some company going to the burial?’ Amara says softly.
I nod and force a small smile. I might feel less uncomfortable entering the hall with others rather than by myself and having everyone stare at me. I approach my dresser and tie my hair up in a ponytail, and return to Billy and Amara waiting for me outside my door.
They walk down the stairs with me through the corridor and into the hall without saying a word. Everyone is there, dressed in black, including Alpha Varan. His hair is dishevelled, and he is distraught, pacing back and forth. Even though he hasn’t treated me well, I still want to reach out and hug him and tell him how much Micah loved him. But then he comes to a halt and glares at me. I pull my hood over my head and walk up to my parents, who are talking to Theo and Leo.
Dad places his hand on my shoulder to comfort me. Moments later, Kayla enters the hall and calls for Billy, Alex, Theo and Leo to go with her down to the apothecary. They return as pallbearers carrying Micah’s coffin. Kayla approaches and takes my hand. She nods at Alpha Varan for him to follow us.
Soft music begins to play. Alex, Billy, Theo and Leo carry the coffin to the pack house gardens while Alpha Varan and I stand behind the coffin and follow. Everyone else follows behind.
Rain plummets down upon us, and the ground becomes muddy. We reach the garden, and Micah’s coffin is lowered into the plot.
Kayla tells Micah’s life story up to the night he was tragically taken away from us and that he is up with the Moon Goddess now watching over us.
Everyone shifts except for me, Sally and Kayla, who have no wolves, and they all howl in unison, as is the tradition at a werewolf’s burial.