From The Ashes 1

The moon glared down from the night sky, as though a raging red eye. It shrouded everything within eyeshot a cold crimson, mocking those who once reveled in its light. 

The smell of metal was dense in the air—nauseating. It joined forces with the moon and scorned at Adeline and the headless body within her embrace that even as she shook in pain and anger, her cry was never heard.

 

As if the moon goddess was deaf.

 

As if the moon goddess was ignoring them.

 

As if the moon goddess turned her back.

“Lady Adeline!”

 

A crisp sound of something tearing woke her senses, and yet as soon as she looked up, droplets of fresh blood splattered on her face, numbing her mind. Her irises narrowed as she stared blankly at the clouded eyes of the head of who had once baked the cookies she would sneak in her room at night.

 

Her hands shook and her heart trembled, and despite the haywire in his mind, all she could ever utter out was the name of someone who was no more:

 

“Xavier…”

 

 

THE NIGHT darkened, and for sure would be long. Adeline stirred. The relief from her deep sleep almost made her feel comfortable, but the jiggles of metals had her jolting awake. Her eyes met the familiar layout of a ceiling, causing a furrow in between her brows.

 

How cruel.

 

Locking her in her own pack's cell—well played.

 

"L—Lady Adeline?" a timid voice sounded from nowhere.

 

Adeline craned her neck and narrowed her eyes to find the source, until the lingering echo drowned under the consecutive sound of chains.

"She's awake?"

"Lady Adeline, are you awake?"

"Lady Adeline is awake!"

She was stumped for a while; she didn't know there would still be a number left of her people, albeit there were only so little of them now. She could vaguely count a fifty, more or less. 

However, she didn't know whether she should be relieved. Their situation now was one of the moments where most would rather think of their death simply because it was an easy way out.

She couldn't ensure their safety. At least not anymore. She was already tired and spent, weak and vulnerable, and a weak voice, which had been separated from the silent cheers, sounded above the other voices. 

 

"Lady Adeline... T—The Alpha..."

 

The cheers silenced down, until only the melancholic howls of the wind from the small windows bounced off in the dark. Adeline's chest constricted, a lump forming in her throat. She shifted to face the small window, viewing the moon which was coincidentally on the right angle of the small space, although misted by the passing clouds.

 

Part of her wanted to shout, make a mess, claw at herself, yet her joints had long gone weak. For what reasons? Was it the tiredness?  She didn't know. 

But for sure, what was left of her spent strength left her spirit. None of them hadn't seen their Alpha's injuries during the war, but they had always trusted him. So much that they believed he was a David against a Goliath, even if they ironically never gave the mortal Bible an inch of the value they give their moon goddess.

 

To them, the Alpha was the chosen of the goddess they praised. To them, he was their hope. But their hope...

'Their hope...' she thought.

 

What would be left of them if she were to diminish their hope? 

 

"Xavier," Adeline tremblingly whispered. "He..."

Should she lie?

But could she lie at all?

"He is gone."

She couldn't.

The whole cellar was quiet—not even a single gasp. No one spoke for a whole hour. Save for the rare sniffs, only the continous howls of the wind sounded, as though a ghost of a wolf's call. 

 

"To live without an Alpha..." One of them sighed. 

 

"Unless we join their wretched pack, us who have lost our head would have to live with the scorn, the loathing, the hatred."

Sighs after sighs, yet none of it could relieve the anxiety of knowing their fate. If they live and leave, they would have to take the path of a rogue. If they were to stay, they would die. The pack who had captured them would never give them another chance, so only death waited if they too waited.

But who wanted to die unhonorable? 

Not them. At least, never the Grays.

 

"Then..." one of the older ones piqued. "You are our last hope, Lady Adeline." 

Adeline's scalp numbed. She couldn't even look at them. Her? Their last hope?

If only she could laugh. 

She had failed to protect her brother, so why? 

Why would they still trust her?

"Yes, Lady Adeline. Our last hope."

"May you accept the hope we are placing on you, Lady Adeline."

Why? 

Wasn't it enough that she had done nothing but hide when that wretched pack suddenly attacked with no warning? Wasn't it enough that she had only watched from the safest distance, accompanied by two of the best warriors to keep her safe?

Wasn't it enough that she ignored all warnings and foolishly ran into the battlefield, all for the petty worry she had for her brother? Wasn't it enough that her foolish actions distracted her people, her warriors, and especially her brother, causing them to miss a beat during their fights and sustain injuries after injuries, until eventually, they had to give in?

Why?

 

Adeline laughed softly, welcoming the little air that entered from the window.

 

"Rest," she replied.

 

THE TRAIN engine whistled in a screeching manner, startling some of the dozing passengers awake. When the terminal bell was striked, the passengers got up one by one and exited the train. Everyone but the woman seating at the farthest corner left.

"Ma'am, I believe this is your stop." 

The woman slowly sat up and tipped her lace-laiden hat, letting some elegant curls dangle down the outline of the side of her jaws an cheeks.

"Yes, thank you." 

Dazed, she was swaying ever so slightly as she stood and walked out with short steps. The hot and humid city air greeted her as she finally set foot on the sidewalk. 

"Good day, madam! May I have your card pass, please."

She raised her chin and eyed the stretched hand of the security man. Nodding, she fumbled through the small purse she carried and fished a small card from it. 

"Thank you," said the security man as he flipped her card. He opened a passbook and wrote something before making a stamp on the card pass. With two of his fingers, he handed it back. "Enjoy your stay, Miss Lily."

"Yes, thank you," the lady replied, smiling under her hat. 

The bustles of a busy road scratched at her ear when she finally left the subway. She passed by an alleyway, and a familiar ugly sound replaced the assaults of the street chatters and car engines. 

The world suddenly closed in on her as she slowly glanced at the direction of the sound of flesh hitting another flesh. 

"Yeah! Get him!"

Three young men surrounded two others: Their faces were swelling in red and blue as they breathed in a ragged rhythm. Both wore angry faces, and it seemed as though they'd been long time enemies. 

"Miss?" 

Startled, she looked to her right and found a brown carriage. The coachman was looking at her, his eyes displaying concern. 

"Are you looking for a ride?" he asked. 

"I..." she replied out of impulse, then shook her head. She straightened and gave a slight nod. "Please." 

The coachman left his post and opened the door for her, to which she entered still in a daze. 

"Thank you," she muttered, although her eyes still lingered on the group of young males. Even as the carriage began to move, her head unconsciously turned to lock her gaze on to the men.

"Aye, no problem," replied the coachman. He later shook his head, then added with a grunt, "Children these days. Knowing nothing better than to fight in the streets." 

She didn't answer but did sport a small nod and listened as he ranted about the recent trend among the youngsters nowadays. She would answer a few yeses every now and then, but other than which, she said nothing else and kept her lips pressed in a thin line. 

"Right, excuse me. Where shall we be heading again, miss?" the coachman finally asked after venting his long-time frustration.

The lady turned her head back to the front and replied, "Find me a hotel nearest to the Southern Station, please." 

"Traveling early in the morning?"

"Yes," she replied, then said no more as she resumed looking out the window.

THE SOUND of a whip hitting flesh echoed through the four corners of the room. It slashed through the air with a smooth wheeze, stirring the wind with strong force that even the tassels of the curtains on the window swayed.

Pain. 

There was extreme pain.

Yet, the person in agony couldn't scream. 

"Alpha!" 

The whip that was just about to attack again fell flat in the air as the hand which held it paused all movements. The large male gazed at a smaller body beneath him then promptly turned around. 

"It's urgent," the newcomer said solemnly. 

The Alpha paused then threw the whip aside. He reached out, and a towel was automatically passed to him. His dark eyes glared at the bloodied woman as he wiped his hands off of the droplets of blood from his assault.

"We are not done yet," his baritone voice boomed, "Take her back!"

With a raise of his hand, a bucket of salt water was dumped to her. 

Adeline's heavy breaths sounded, her teeth chattering as she struggled hard to keep her screams in. 

It stung, everywhere. 

It burned, and even her tough spirit couldn't whisper any comfort. 

She just... hurt. 

Few men came to get her, but ended up dragging her for her lack of energy to even walk. She had already lost a few of her senses, and she felt like her head was up in the clouds, despite her wide-opened eyes.

And yet when she heard the cellar doors open, it was as though her spirit was forcefully pushed back to her body, forcing her to face the shame of having to look nearly less of a stinky rat. 

Their gasps were poorly silenced, and though their gazes were pitying, it still felt scorching. 

"L—Lady Adeline..."

"You bastards!" one of her people growled, but with silver bars and silver cuffs around his leg, he couldn't lash out. He only encouraged a few weaker women to start choking on their sobs. 

She closed her eyes and let her head fall. She hated that the cruel man hadn't beaten her face too. At least with her bruised eyes, she didn't have to will herself to look away from them. At least then, she wouldn't look like a cowering rat. 

Rat. 

Wasn't that what the man had told her as he took pleasure in torturing her, his eyes narrowing in manic mockery, just to make her feel less of a living organism?

Adeline was thrown into the cold stone of her cell, and yet she didn't even lift a finger. She stayed sprawled on the ground, bleeding and staining the floor, eyes tightly shut as she endured the harsh spinning and pounding of her head.

All this war... for what?

She could feel his deep loathing, and she knew he wouldn't leave her unscathed. 

By not immediately killing her, he wanted to end everything of her: violate her, shatter her, embarass her—and he was almost successful. 

She was already embarassed enough having been useless during the fight, and she was further embarassed having to look like this in front of them. 

She wondered... would they still place their hope on her?