Kacie
“I have one request,” I said.
“Anything my love,” Viktor said.
“I don’t want him in the lobby. I want him in our room. Can we do that?” I asked.
“We can do whatever we want Kacie,” Viktor answered.
In the olden days, it was common for our kind to spend the dead’s last night with them. It was like a ritual, we clean their bodies with a cloth, wash their hair, and clothe them in something loose. After the ritual the body is placed in the living room or the pack lobby if the dead was an alpha. The family would then bring their blankets and pillows to sleep in the front on the couch or the floor. It’s the last night you get with the dead. It’s a form of closure and was done away with one hundred years ago, or at least that’s what Viktor told me. When he told me about it I clung to the knowledge and asked him if we could do it too. He admitted that he mentioned it to gouge my reaction. We looked into each others eyes and knew without a doubt that we needed to do it.
It may have been morbid and people whispered about it, but we didn’t care. We needed this. Before we said goodbye for the last time we had asked him for more time, not knowing that we were out of it. I couldn’t forget the way he looked when he told us he couldn’t stay away from us. He chose us in the end and he apologized for letting the mate bond ruin what we had. The tears that burned in his eyes had warmed my heart. I was thankful for the one good memory we had with him before the attack. He wanted to be with us and I clung to that knowledge like I clung to the idea of this ritual. If we didn’t do this I would feel like I was robbed of saying goodbye.
The dress I wore fell down to my thighs. Viktor wore black shorts and a silk white button shirt that fell loosely down his body. I waited by the door, my hands folded across my chest as a few of the packhouse workers shuffled around in the room. Jake lay in the middle of our bed and was dressed in a loose white silk robe.
I stood anxiously for the workers to leave. I watched as one rolled the side table next to my side of the bed. Another placed a large bowl of cool water on the table, while another placed a pile of wash cloths and a brush by the bed. Viktor walked to his side of the bed and lit a candle, a plain beeswax candle. The aroma filled the room and a calmness washed over me. The workers bowed their heads and made their way out of the room. I closed the door behind them and took a deep breath before turning around to face my mates.
Viktor sat at the edge of the bed, his eyes on Jake before he looks up and watches me. I hide my hands behind my back so he can’t see the way my hands are shaking. I know we’re doing this so we can get the closure we didn’t get when he passed, but this just happened this morning.
It’s only been a few hours, but a part of me doesn’t want to let go. A part of me doesn’t want to say goodbye. If I keep standing here like this it’s almost as if it’s just another night. I can pretend that everything is as it should be. I can pretend the battle never took place. Jake is sleeping and Viktor is watching over him.
Viktor’s eyes soften and it’s like he’s staring into my mind. He sees me and I see him. I take my first hesitant step towards the bed. I place one foot in front of the other and soon I’m standing between the bed and the table. I look down at Jake and want nothing more than to crawl into his arms and curl into a ball.
I’m not ready to cry yet, I turn toward the table and grab one of the wash cloths. I dip it into the large bowl of water and wait until it’s submerged. Lifting it, I twist the cloth in different directions until it wrings out most of the water. I grab the brush and turn toward the bed. I place one knee down on the bed followed by the second.
Viktor stares up at me and I stare back at him. There’s no rush tonight. It’s almost as if time has stood still just for the three of us in this room. I hand him the brush and look down at Jake. His eyelashes fan his cheeks, his hair unruly from being washed, but his face clean of blood. The blood and mud that had stained his clothing and covered his body is nowhere in sight.
My heart screams for me to touch him, hold him, feel him, but I hold back. I bring the damp cloth to his forehead and run it across his brow and down his face. His high cheekbones begged to be kissed. Switching hands, I wash the other side of his face with the cloth and stare down at his face. He looks so peaceful and tears blur my vision. I don’t blink and the tears roll and drip from my eyelashes onto Jake’s face. Finally, I lean down and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.
When I straighten my back and sit up, Viktor is brushing his hair. He stares down at Jake as if trying to commit his features to memory. A tear rolls down his cheek and I watch as he puts the brush down. I put the washcloth on the bedside table and lower myself to Jake’s side. I look up at him and tears fall from my eyes and soak the material of his clothing.