CHAPTER 7

Adrian’s POV

The funeral was coming to an end, and the mourners were beginning to thin. Elara's family was still beside the burial ground looking like their world had collapsed. But I didn't dare go too near. I couldn't accept Elara was dead. I stood in the shadows, the weight of grief pressing down on me. Her absence felt like a void in my chest that nothing could fill.

How could she be gone forever? The thought was unbearable, almost suffocating me.

My heart refused to accept that she was truly gone. The thought that she might still be alive, despite everyone’s certainty that no one could survive such a fire, gnawed at me. We had searched for her body everywhere. But we couldn't find her body. They said the furious fire burned her entire body to ashes. But I didn't want to believe it. The fact that she left the necklace behind, a symbol of our love and her coming of age, only strengthened everyone's belief that Elara was dead. I clutched the pendant in my hand. They took this as proof of her death, while I thought something terrible had happened to her.

I couldn't accept her death. Yet. That meant if Elara was not dead, she was in grave danger.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Isla arriving at the funeral again, to pay her condolences at the burial ground. To my horror, this time accompanied by the idiot Stefan, their indifference was almost palpable. I wondered if he was her boyfriend. My heart twisted.

She was wrapped in her usual aloofness, almost detached, a stark contrast to the grieving pack members gathered here. She had barely shed a tear. Instead, she stood like she was forced to be a part, her gaze distant, her posture rigid. Stefan’s presence did little to comfort me; his clueless demeanor and blank expression were mocking in the face of such profound loss. The two had no respect for Elara. It was better when they weren't here.

Her eyes darted around with impatience, clearly struggling to mask her true feelings. She seemed to be pretending, putting on a show of mourning that didn’t reach her eyes.

I tried to focus on Elara’s memory, to honor her life with my grief. But every time I looked at Isla, my anger surged, overpowering the sadness.

"She is shameless. She is here with that stupid Stefan." My wolf growled inside my head, agitated. And I felt it too.

I felt a deep sense of helplessness as I watched her. How could she be so unaffected, so aloof, like her sister’s death meant nothing to her? I could hardly accept it.

"Confront her!" My wolf’s agitation mirrored my own, growing more intense with each passing moment.

As the funeral rites concluded and everyone began to disperse, I found myself fixated on Isla. She and Stefan were discussing something intimately. For a second, I saw a wave of emotion flicker in her eyes. But it vanished as soon as it had started.

Our eyes met briefly, and she looked away with an equal intensity if not more. She was back to being cold. She seemed more like an intruder at Elara’s funeral rather than a grieving sibling. Her lack of genuine emotion was almost insulting, and I felt a surge of anger bubble up within me.

"They are leaving!" My wolf howled impatiently as I saw Isla and Stefan slip away.

Unable to bear the sight of Isla and that idiot any longer, I decided to leave.

Later that night, my mind was a whirlwind. I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep even for a minute. How could I? After what I lost! After, how had Isla cruelly taken her away from me? My thoughts were consumed by Isla’s demeanor. She made me and my wolf restless. I didn't even realize until now how the entire funeral had been about her and my anger towards her. I shot up, feeling guilty.

"It is because we want to avenge our Elara. You know she is lying." My wolf whispered, unconvinced.

I sighed, looking at the moon shining brightly outside my window. I wondered if Elara might still be alive. Only yesterday was she in my arms and now she is a memory. I needed to clear my head, to find some peace amidst the chaos of my thoughts.

The only place that I could think of was the old cabin by the waterfall. That place still offered me solace after all these years. After all, it was where Elara and I had first met.

Reaching the cabin, I pushed open the creaking door and stepped inside. The familiar scent of damp wood, the distant sound of the waterfall, and the faint aroma of wildflowers greeted me. It was our secret place. But now she had left while I remained.

I moved to the old worn-out window, tracing my finger at the place where Elara had once left me food, bandages, and medicine. The memories of her kindness flooded back. I could almost see her standing there, her face framed by the gentle light of the moon, her eyes filled with the familiar light, concern, and warmth.

"Are you really gone?" I whispered, a teardrop escaping my eyes. Today, even this place failed to give me any comfort.

I could feel Elara, even as the reality of her absence pressed down on me. I could almost hear her laughter, see her twirling when she bought a new dress, or when her eyes gleamed with pride when I came out victorious after a duel.

“Why did you leave me?” I whispered to the empty room, my breathing becoming heavy. My chest constricted as a tight knot formed in it. My voice cracked, and my heart got heavy with guilt. I failed to protect her.

“Why was it you and not her?”

My mind traveled back to Isla.

The images of Isla from the funeral haunted me. Her behavior at the funeral was just the tip of the iceberg. I remembered the countless times Elara had expressed her worries about Isla, the deep concern that never seemed to fade despite Isla’s increasingly erratic behavior and their contrasting personalities.

I clenched my fists, my grief mingling with a growing sense of anger and something more towards Isla. Everything pointed out that it was Isla who was responsible for Elara's death. Her lies, her constant arguments, her past, her nature, her absence, the way she carried herself during Elara's funeral, her impatience to leave Elara's funeral, and mostly how she failed to explain the whereabouts of her last night. My wolf continued to growl, its agitation reflecting my own frustration and helplessness.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But my heart only grew more and more restless. The night was going to be long and lonely.