Chapter 2

Sky's POV

“We’re trying to heal.” Owen’s first tear stains his cheek. “But everything is fine. Is that correct, Sky? We’re all fine.”

Owen tries to smile, but I can tell he’s about to burst out laughing. Uncle Morison senses the same thing and softly pats Owen on the back.

“I’m going to have to lift Owen out of his current position. Sky, are you able to stand so I can carry you back as well?” Uncle Morison speaks in hushed tones. It makes me think of mothers. His eyes are the same soft blue that I used to see every morning at breakfast and every night when she tucked me in.

She’ll never tuck me in again. We’ll never be able to dance horribly again while making pancakes. She will never again brush my hair and hum softly to me. I’ll never hear her laugh again as she pins Owen to the floor and tickles him. She’ll never smile at me again. My mother has passed away. Gone for good.

“I can walk myself back.” I borrow a page from my father’s playbook and put on a blank expression. I force myself to act as if I felt nothing, as if I’m numb.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Uncle Morison informs us as he covers Owen’s face to prevent him from seeing my mother as we pass.

As I walk by, I can’t help but notice her. Even with the cuts, dirt, and blood, she’s stunning. I can see why my father was staring at her now. And it wasn’t because she was no longer alive and he was in shock. It’s because she’s so stunning that you can’t help but stare at her.

A tear falls down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away before anyone notices. Nobody can see me crying. No one has ever seen my father cry, despite the fact that he is the strongest, most powerful Alpha I’ve ever met. I give my mother one last look before turning around and following Uncle Morison into the woods.

“Yeah, all of us are okay.”

***

My bath water became cold about an hour ago, but I can’t seem to summon the strength or will to get out of bed. Several people have knocked on my bathroom door, but I have never answered. I simply sit and prune.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been in the tub before a soft knock comes to my door. This knock is distinct from the others; it is familiar and full of longing.

I finally get out of the icy water, drain the tub, and wrap a towel around my body. I open the door and walk into my bedroom, past Owen. I rush to the closet, slightly closing the door to give myself privacy while changing without completely shutting him out. He requires my assistance.

“Have you seen, father?” Owen inquires quietly? “I haven’t seen him since earlier, you know.”

“I suppose he’s preoccupied. He’s a man on the go.” My wet, dark hair bounces on my shoulders as I shrug. I walk past Owen again, unable to meet his gaze. I walk over to my desk and shuffle some papers around, opening and closing books at random.

He sighs, “I miss her.”

Those three words bring me to a halt. I’ve never felt so exposed to three words before. I’ve never been so angry and sad in my life because of three words.

I twist around and wrap my arms around my younger brother.

‘It’s not fair to him or to me.’

“Me too.” I keep my voice low. I feel him cry in my arms, and I want to cry as well, but nothing comes out. “How about I tuck you in tonight?”

Owen releases my grip and wipes his runny nose and puffy pink eyes. He gives a nod.

I lead him down the hall to his room and turn on every light. Owen climbs into bed while I double-check that all the windows are closed. He has a glass of water, his nightlight is turned on, and there are no monsters in his closet or under the bed.

“Just in case.” He states. “Not because I’m scared, but just in case.”

“Of course.” I nod as I tuck him in, just like mom. “There.”

“What happens now?” Owen murmurs, clutching the stuffed bear his mother gave him for his last birthday.

“Now I’m going to turn the lights off and you’re going to go to sleep.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He shook his head.

“I don’t know.” I keep my voice low. I lean across the side of his race car bed and kiss his brow before turning off the lights and leaving the door slightly open in case he needs me in the middle of the night.

I decide to go downstairs and look for Father. I hear yelling coming from his office’s direction. We aren’t supposed to be up this late or anywhere near his office because this is a place of work and business, not for children’. I had never been inside before.

“Not for the last time! It must be tiger lily, not daisy!” Those words, coming from my father’s mouth, sound strange. He’s never said anything about flowers to me. “She would have wanted tiger lily!”

The final line sounded depressing. I peered through the door crack to see my father at his desk, Uncle Morison pacing off to the side, sniffling into a tissue, and Greg Potter, my father’s Beta, sitting casually on the couch with a cigar in hand.

“I just can’t believe that this is what we’re doing right now,” Uncle Morison murmured.

“What do you want me to be doing, Morison?” My father appears frazzled and unlike himself at the time, but it only lasts a second before his hard, impenetrable exterior returns.

“Have you even spoken to the children?” Uncle Morison inquires. “I can’t even imagine what they must be feeling.”

“They can look after themselves. Sky has everything under control.” My father dismisses the subject as if it were unimportant. Just like he always brushes Owen and me aside.

“She’s only ten Luther.” Uncle Morison speaks in hushed tones.

“They just lost their mother and instead of being with your children, you’re down here going on about fucking flowers!”

“If you’re so worried about them, why don’t you go check on the little brats?”

I didn’t like being referred to as a brat, especially by such a rude and impossible meanie. He took another puff of his cigar, choking slightly. Thank you, Moon Goddess, for punishing him.

“I don’t need to be checked on.” As I push open the door, I say. “And I am not a brat.”

“Sky , what are you doing in here, sweetie?” Uncle Morison rushes to my side and places his hand on my back.

“Go. You know well that you’re not supposed to be in here. Get the hell out.” I’m not surprised or surprised by his cold tone of voice.