After spending almost an hour in traffic, and exchanging a few derogatory words with a couple of passer byers, I arrive at the packhouse.
My legs trudge up the steep hill, a couple of paces down some pack members are training. On the sidewalks, a couple of friends walk the concrete, once they see me their eyes fill with somber and sadness. They let out a few mumbled words and scurry along, disappearing into the side entrance of the packhouse.
For the past few months, it's been like this. They all feel bad for me. The crazy, bold girl who almost died from the hands of Yount, the scariest man alive, second being Sylo Sniper of course. The crazy girl that willingly woke the most dangerous people in the world, that may or may not come to their kingdom and try to kill them all.
Since I've been back, no one has heard anything from the Insofar Kingdom. Scouts report that since the castle burned down, no living soul has been seen around it. They say dark ashes of soot linger in the air as silence falls around. The location of Yount is unknown, and most importantly the location of The First Power is also unknown. Everyone has been on edge, we all know that Yount is coming to take the throne from his younger brother, and may also come and kill us since we are the reason Sasha is dead.
Before Katana left, she tried to help me feel if I could locate The First Power, but to no avail. She said if they were to come out of the shadows, I would be the first person they came to see. Which in return made me shake in fear, but Katana assured me that they wouldn't hurt me, because I'm one of them. Well, half of them I suppose.
As I enter the packhouse, I see Skipper and Aora in the kitchen, their conversation sounding rather heated. I swear all they do is complain and argue with each other, I don't know how they are friends. Skipper bites into her cereal as Aora tries to explain to her something.
"Look, Damon was meant to be with Elena, he was the first one to meet her not Stefan. Elena was too strict with her personality with Stefan, but with Damon, she could make mistakes and be herself." From this, Skipper's spoon clatters against the blue glass bowl that held her cereal and milk, a bit of the milk splatters. Her hands wave in the air, stopping Aora from talking.
"No, no, no. Stefan is her soulmate, he was the first one that was with her then she should have ended up with him. The writers felt bad for Damon so they gave him Elena, every person with a brain knows that."
"Ugh, you can never let someone be happy, can you?" Aora cuts her eyes at Skipper while she chuckles under her breath.
She responds with sarcasm in her voice, "Yes Keaorah, I hate to see happiness." Once they both see me walk into the kitchen, the argument about the fictional vampires seizes to stop.
"Hey." They say in unison. Their eyes follow me as I walk to the refrigerator pulling out a soda and the leftover lasagna Mrs. Germani made last night. She insisted that since I'm a growing girl I need to eat healthily. With that thought, I also snatch up the salad. Can't hurt to put some greens in my meal.
"Hi, I overhead you guys' conversation."
"Oh, really?" Skipper's eyebrow lifts while her metal mouth is on full display. "What do you think? Was Elena better with Damon or Stefan?"
"Yeah, what do you think?" Aora chimes in. Her arms lean on the granite counters. Dropping the food and drink on the counter, I slid over to the cabinet pulling out a white saucer plate and grabbing a fork from the drawer. I turn around to see them staring at me intently, I didn't know they were serious.
"Ummm. . ." I murmur to myself trying to conjure up a good explanation to the heated debate. "I would say she was better with Damon." Aora erupts in cheer, Skipper makes a fake gagging noise from hearing Aora being happy. "Stefan always got everything that Damon wanted, so for Damon to get the ultimate prize, which was Elena, was nice."
"At least someone has some sense around here." Aora tucks her black locks behind her well-pierced ear. She has at least five in there, two at the point of it, one in the middle and the other on her lob. It's like the metal factory took a break on her ear. When I asked her if it hurt, she said "not at all, I'm a gammas daughter I can take the pain."
"Oh, shut up." Skipper groans. I cut a medium slice piece of Col's cheesy lasagna and carry it slowly to the white saucer, insert it in the microwave and wait for it to heat up.
Aora ignores Skipper and turns to me, "I forgot to ask, how was your speech for your Women's conference thing?"
"Good, everyone liked it and I got a few thanks for those on the board." They give me a few claps, and I in return bow as if I'm on stage. The microwave starts to beep, I quickly grab the hot plate and put it on the granite. On the side, I put the salad, tomatoes, and cucumber to surround the green. "I'll see you guys later." They say goodbye to me, once I get a few feet from the kitchen I can hear their argument picking up again, a new topic. Who should Bella have ended up with, Jacob or Edward?
The steam from the lasagna rises in the air and circulates through my nose, it smells so good my mouth begins to water. I told her if she wasn't an Alpha of the most powerful pack in Nygaard, she should have her own restaurant.
The house is pretty quiet, besides a few kids in the packed living room playing a video game, so I decide to eat in the house. Usually, I always go on the patio and eat while looking at the vast amount of property in the Golden Summit Pack. They own thousands of acres, that go on for miles. Beautiful hills and lakes, it looks like a magical land at night.
The dining room is empty, lights shine in from the long, glass windows on the golden dining room table and chairs. It's a 108" table that holds around 12 chairs. This room is mostly used when foreign dignitaries come to do business, but since resurrecting The First Power no one wants to come to Nygaard. They think they'll have to face the wrath of Yount and his resurrected witches.
I decide to sit at the head of the table, which is where Mr. Germani would sit, and then across the table would be Mrs. Germani and everyone else would fill the seats. The warm and cheesy lasagna fills my mouth, I let out a small moan as the sauce, cheese and spices mix together creating what I think Italy would be like.
I sit in silence for the next 20 minutes eating my lasagna and salad while washing it down with a carbonated drink. In the distance, I hear a bunch of girls coming by. A strong smell of pine follows them, it hits me hard. Not in the nose, but the heart.
That's how Alexander smelled, strong with pine and a manly smell following behind it. I miss him, a lot. At night I sit up staring at the midnight sky, watching the stars glow brightly. Remembering when I and Alexander stood under these same stars, it was the first time he kissed me. His plump lips are on mine, engulfing me as his hands roam all over my body. I didn't miss it because it was sexual, but the thought of our bodies connecting, creating eons of pleasure. I miss that, miss his touch, his smell, his person. The connection I so much crave.
It's been months but feels like years.
I could hear his voice right now in my head. Telling me not to sit and wallow about him, to move on with my life and be happy. But I can't, not when it's all my fault. He shouldn't have been there, shouldn't have come. But, of course, he had to be the hero. He had to be the one that tried to whisk me away while he fought the beast that held me there.
I should be the one in his situation, I deserve it. When I saw him collapse in my arms, the whole world stopped. I thought I wouldn't be able to breathe again, to move from that cold spot on the ground. I'd be stuck, like one of those gargoyles on ancient castles in foreign countries.
I might as well be a grey gargoyle; I feel frozen moving in real-time. Everyone else is going on, moving on, but me. Will things ever go back to how they used to be? Will I?
After everything that happened in Insofar, I don't think I can go back. Back to the shy girl who worked at the antique shop and would have movie dates with her best friend. It's like after what happened my DNA is changed.
My mind drifts off to when I woke up out of my long haze, looking for the one person that could keep me sane.
Alexander, my Alexander.
🌺🌺🌺🌺
Everyone looks around at me like I'm some crazy bird that flew into the grocery store. I'm surprised by myself, but a few seconds ago I was laying in bed. Body wary and mind in a paroxysm, but now I'm calm and ready to find my mate.
The first one to respond to me was my grandpa. "Uh. . .Quinn honey maybe you should lay down." That was all he said while his hands came to my tense shoulders. I flinch back, and so does he.
"No! I've laid down long enough." I didn't mean for my voice to come out so harsh, his words were justified. Then, Lyra's eyes revert over to me. I could see how my condition has taken a toll on her. That once vibrant skin is now dirty and drained. Her red hair is in knots while her clothes are wrestled against her body.
"Lyra. . .please," I beg her, those beautiful eyes of hers filled with. . .something.
Her words come out in stammers, "Quinn- I- I- I agree with your grandpa. Maybe you should-." She stops talking once she sees sorrow in me, the ache I'm feeling right now from not knowing where he is. Is this what it means to have a mate, to love someone so much that you feel like you could die? Is he dead? He has to be, the way his eyes looked when he collapsed in my arms, surely, he has to be dead. Is that why they don't want me to see him, because of that? "Milo? Mr. Germani?"
My grandpa and Mr. Germani's eyes exchange glances, uneasy glances. Should we let her go see him? See his dead, rotting corpse that once laid on that hard, marble cold floor at Insofar?
"Quinneth-
"Grandpa, please." The please comes out quietly, almost soft. "Tell me. . .is he dead?"
"No." A huge weight is lifted off my chest, I started to coax myself into the mood that he was dead. If he isn't dead then where is he?
"Then I need to see him." Demand surges through me, I end up surprising myself. Mr. Germani gives my grandpa a nod, then goes and opens up the white door. On the other side, I see people walking by, some glancing over at me, probably wondering why I'm still alive. HOW I'm still alive.
Before I get off the bed, Lyra holds out her arms for me. "I can do it myself, Ly." Her face reads 'no the hell you can't.'
I would argue with her, but I don't have that much energy. Also, I'm in a rush to see Alexander. Her arm wraps around my waist as my feet trudge along the cold, marble floors. I see that somewhere from me being dragged from Insofar into this room, they put me on a nightgown. Not wanting my ass to be hanging out, I clamp the back with the hand that's not looped around Lyra's waist.
As we walk down the hall to wherever the hell Alexander is, I talk to Lyra. While my grandpa and Mr. Germani lug behind us like luggage. "Thank you."
"For what?" She asked confused.
"For. . .staying with me. You could have left, but you didn't." We stop for just a quick moment; I think she's readjusting her shoulder.
"I'll never leave you, no matter what." She stares deeply at me, making sure I take what she says for true. We continue down the hall; I could hear grandpa and Mr. Germani conversating quietly. I can't pick up on what they're saying, but it must be serious because they don't want us to hear. "Here we are." Lyra clutches me to her side as we stop in front of another white door, identical to mine. It has his name written on it, Alexander Ernouf Germani.
I bring my hand up to the door, tracing the letters of his name, trying to imprint them in my DNA. But before it opens my grandpa grips my wrist. "Quinn, there's something you need to know."
"What?" My voice comes out rough, roused. I need to make sure I get some water when I leave here.
His facial expression sags. "He's. . .pretty beaten up. His condition-"
"Grandpa, I can handle it. Look, I survived the resurrection spell." He smiles at me while pinching my cheek.
"You're right, you can handle anything." He lets go of my wrist as I now push open the door. In front of me lies a bed, and on top of it lays a man.
Alexander.
Bruises are all over his face, arms, and even legs. That curly hair of his sits in his eyes, don't they know he hates that. I make Lyra let go of me as I walk over to him, my fingers push the curls out of it. His skin is sheer white, no color or. . sense of life. He looks like a phantom ghost. My eyes widen as I stare at the people who stare at me like I'm crazy. Something is going on that they don't want to tell me.
"Is he asleep?"
"No." Answers Mr. Germani.
"If he's not asleep then...." My voice trails off, before I could say anything grandpa answers me.
"He's in a coma, Quinn." At that point, I grip the railing on the bed. Not from fear, but weakness. I think I may lose balance and fall face-first on the floor from hearing that news.
A COMA!
A bunch of emotions runs through me. Anger, confusion, denial, and just pure. . .confusion. He fainted in my arms, yes, but I just thought it was the loss of blood. He's a werewolf for god's sake! Shouldn't he just have to heal and be alright? That is the number one benefit of being a werewolf.
From the look of 'how' on my face, grandpa answers my question, "When he was stabbed at Insofar, the knife was laced."
"Laced? Laced with what?"
Mr. Germani chokes on the word, but I could hear it clearly. "Wolfsbane."
"Wolfsbane? That's the same thing as monkshood, that was on the knife that Piper stabbed him with in my backyard.75Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBVTLe0wSLk
He survived that; then why can't he survive this?" My hand rubs up and down his forehead, I pull his blanket up to his body, it's cold in this room.
"It is, yes, but Wolfsbane is more lethal to werewolves. When they stabbed him, he was meant to die, not just hurt him."
Oh, my god. When Yount stabbed him, he did it to make me kill the girls for the sacrifice. But what I didn't know is that he laced the knife, he wanted to kill Alexander, not just hurt him. My blood starts to fume under my skin, I swear if he was in front of me now, I would kill him.
I reassess everything. "Ok, so it's lethal. Do we wait for him to wake up, or what? I'm confused. Is there a cure?"
My grandpa chimes in, "Quinn, the only thing that can cure him is an Alpha-"
"Ok, his father's an Alpha. Can't you cure him, Mr. Germani?"
He shakes his head; it hangs low to the ground. "I can't." The strain in his voice hurts me. Probably not as hurt as he feels since he can't even cure his own son. "We need not just any type of Alpha. We need an Alpha King." My eyes widen, a King, huh.
"Then let's go get him." I lean on Alexander's bed as I walk over to the door. Lyra stops in front of me. "Lyra get the hell out the way, or else." My voice lowers.
"Quinn, we tried to ask him to save Alexander, to give him the cure." She pauses, then continues. "He denied us." I stop in my tracks.
"Denied? How could he- why would he do that?"
"Because- of you." She says quietly, but I'm able to pick up on what she said.
"Me!?" I sit on the nearest chair by the window. The sun's rays beam on my body, creating a nice warmth that I've been looking for all day. "It's because of what I did, isn't it? He's going to di- die- because of me." My voice cracks.
Lyra rushes over to me, her hands wrapping around my delicate and fragile frame. Her touch is soothing and calms me down a little. "He needs to live, he has so much ahead of him. Now, he's going to pay the price because of me."
She doesn't say anything, just holds me. My eyes revert up to him, his chest slowly moving up and down. I wish I could see his eyes, hear his voice, feel his arms engulfed around me. He has to live; he needs to lead this pack when his father dies. The world needs to know Alexander Ernouf Germani, and they won't if I just sit here with Lyra cradling me like a baby.
I break out of her embrace, my legs wobble under me but I manage to get steady. "He's not dying, maybe someday, but definitely not today. He said no to you, Mr. Germani, but he hasn't met me."
"Quinn-." He starts.
"NO! He needs to live; I need him to live. If I have to down there and- and plead with the King then I will. If I need to sacrifice myself, then that's what needs to be done. Now, I want to leave tomorrow for Nygaard, who's coming?"
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