Page 46 of Omega's Flight
The alphas dug a hole for me, taking it in turns with the shovel so that each one had some hand in the digging of his grave. It was a nice gesture. Perhaps nice wasn't really the right word for it, but I was touched by the care they took.
"Here, I asked Duke to bring this." Bram held out a bundle of fabric that turned out to be a baby blanket. "I had a lot of time when I was pregnant with the twins. This was the blanket that I brought Isolde home in. I thought you might want to wrap the box in it. To keep the dirt off him."
"Oh." I'd thought I was past crying, having spent that first night and morning soaking my pillow with my anger and frustration but here I was again, leaking tears down my cheeks. I hadn't thought of a gift for my little boy—he would go to his rest with nothing from his Papa.
I wrapped him up in the blanket and laid him in the hole. It was hard to breathe and Bax and Holland had to help me back up to my feet. Bax laid the tiniest teddy bear I'd ever seen next to the box, then Holland placed a couple of the famous cookies on top of it. Each of the alphas took their turn to leave something—a flower, a tiny toy car, a wooden block. I bit my knuckle until Holland gently pried it out from between my teeth, and it was only then that I tasted the blood.
He wiped the corner of my mouth with the cuff of his sweater. "I stopped by your place and brought these. I don't know if you want to give him something to know you by?" In his other hand was a scratched and marked set of teething beads that I'd thrown into my bag in those frantic minutes of deciding what to take and what to abandon. They'd been used by all three of my living pups—it felt right to let him have them.
I hugged Holland ferociously. "Thank you," I whispered.
He just smiled and shook his head. "It's what you would have done, right?"
I nodded and looked down at the beads, running them through my fingers for a moment. There was the long scratch that Pip had put on the big one, her favorite to chew on. And the one made of the reddish wood, dented on one side from when Henry had fallen down while holding it. And the leather thong was still stretched between the two smallest beads, because of the way Ann would hold them in her mouth. I didn't want them to be here for this—this was none of their sorrow—but it lightened my heart a little that this part of their history would go with him. I knelt by the tiny pile and laid the beads carefully on top of them. "Be a good boy, Isaac, and I'll see you when I get to the Moonlands. Papa loves you." I broke down here and cried and then someone was helping me up.
Bax murmured in my ear, "Do you want to do the burying?" I shook my head and curled into his arms. But even though I couldn't bear the thought of covering him up, I made myself watch as the alphas took it in turns again, because a parent should have the strength to do those things.
When it was done, I was exhausted again. I could have slept for days.
Bax kissed the top of my head and hugged me. "Come on, we'll take you home. Holland and I will keep the pups."
The Alpha handed the shovel off to Duke and walked over to us. He had something in his hand and it was only when he held it out to me that I realized what it was. A phone. "Holland and I talked and you should have one."
I stared at it for a moment, until he wiggled it as if he were trying to get my attention. Tentatively, I reached out and let him lay it in my palm. "Thank you." What else could you say?
Holland put a hand on my shoulder. "I have your number, and I'll make sure it goes in Bax's phone too. It already has the pack office, the daycare, Adelaide's clinic, and Supplies saved in, plus mine and Bax's numbers." Holland rubbed my arm and gave me a sad smile. "If there's anything you need, call one of us, okay?"
I nodded, though at the moment I was so numb I couldn't imagine ever needing anything again. But the pups... The pups would need things. "Thank you," I said again, and let them lead me back to my new home.
C H A P T E R 3 3
I stayed home by myself after our little burial, too emotionally exhausted to make polite small talk. All I wanted to do was sleep and it seemed that Bax and Holland picked up on my need to be alone, because they didn't stay long. The concerned looks they exchanged didn't escape me, but for once, I didn't care. I just wanted them gone. And once I'd seen them out the front door, that's exactly what I did.
An uncertain amount of time later, I woke to the room shrouded in dim light. It suited me, so I left all the lights off while I went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Things felt easier in the half-dark and I sat in the living room, staring at the black screen of the television on the wall while the tea went cold and unnoticed in my mug.
Eventually it grew so dark I couldn't see anything. It was nighttime—nighttime was when you turned the lights on. I didn't have to get by with candles here. Automatically, I stood and hunted along the wall until my fingers found the light switch.
The lights came on, stark white, and I looked around my new home. I'd spent maybe six hours here since arriving four days ago—it felt like a stranger's home.
Shake out of it.
My tea was cold. I dumped it in the sink and rinsed out the mug, setting it to dry on a towel. No one here to yell about dishes being left out. It itched between my shoulderblades to leave it, but this was my house. I could do as I pleased.
I should go get the pups. The phone was still in my pocket—I pulled it out and stared at it. I knew how to use one, having used Degan's when he still had it, but I couldn't bring myself to. The thought of a walk, of getting out of the house to go fetch my pups myself, made the air in my lungs feel freer.
But before I went, I took a trip through their bedrooms, one for my girls, one for my boy, touching their things as I went, reminding myself that I still had them. I sat on Pip's bed and picked up the stuffed dog someone had given her as a welcoming present and hugged it to my chest. Tonight was Christmas Eve, Midwinter Wolf would be coming, and I had so little to give them. But at least I had something. And I was a parent, I needed to remember that. I had to find the up side of everything, so that my pups would see that too.
Someone knocked on the door. I jumped and put the stuffed dog back on Pip's pillow, and went to answer it.
Standing on my doorstep, I found a small crowd of Mercy Hills shifters. Duke, Bram, three little pups that I assumed were theirs. A tall red-headed alpha with his arm around Jason. And Cas. I stared at them mutely, baffled by their appearance.
"We figured you didn't have much time to get the house ready for Christmas, so we brought you things," Bram said in a comfortably cheery voice, but he took my hand and squeezed it in sympathy. "I know you probably aren't feeling much like it, but the pups will enjoy it."
"I don't really have anything—" I started to say, then noticed the bags—bags!—on the porch behind them. "Oh, Bram, what have you done?"
"Brought Christmas," he said firmly and shooed me back in through the door.
I ended up seated on the couch like a king while the crowd bustled around my house turning it into a Christmas wonderland.
