Episode 5

TW: Mentions of suicide

☾☾SASKIA☽☽

Absalon sighs mournfully before yielding to my request. “I’ve cast a magical illusion on us so our conversation does not impress on the mind of any eavesdropper. If they were indeed curious about the details, they’d only hear what I want them to.” His lips droop downward as he summons a frown. I tune out, in the middle of deciding his magic skill is quite valuable. I should look forward to learning it soon. Casting illusions? That has a lot of value.

Absalon continues with his admonishment as if I care. “I shouldn’t be the first to point out that Cillian’s men follow you in the shadows, or am I?”

“I already know that.” I snap, tired of his propensity to treat me like an infant, incapable of doing anything on my own or perfectly. It’s tiring. I know what I’m doing, and I have my plans.

Cillian is going to pay for killing my husband.

“Make no mistake, Absalon. I am not indebted to you. You can tell Cillian whatever you want. Though... I am convinced you have nothing to report to a were you don’t respect. I know you find him detestable, and underneath your mask of deceit and lies, you want him in woe. You use him when really, you want him dead.” I surmise from his comments and the courses of action he’s taken so far.

Absalon smiles tightly. “I see you’ve learnt from my coaching and are now thinking for yourself, Princess.” I bare my teeth in what might count as a grin in a twisted world.

Suppose he’s foolish enough to believe that I do not obscure my most authentic notions nor fine-tune my outward reactions to be what he expects. In that case, I guess I overestimated the exceptional wizard.

“Wait for me, Absalon.”

“Wait?” His scowl is the telltale sign of him being thrown off by what I’ve requested of him.

I smile, this time a real one. I’m happy when I envision it. “Yes. Wait till the day I kill you myself. I still owe you that, if anything. It might take a while, so please stay alive until then.” I’ll hand the wizard who started my life’s ruination and hurt Wade a painful death on a silver tray, even if it’s the last thing I do.

Absalon simpers as if my words have no consequence. “I’ll be waiting, Luna.” He bows and makes his way back to Cillian.

The jolt of energy that had risen from several shots of adrenaline dies out in Absalon’s absence. I’m left with a gaping hole in my chest. I think of Mikael, and I ache all over. I loved him. I love him. I wish I could have told him that.

Why did you have to lose to Cillian?

The heaviness that encumbered me from when I knew of his death rolls over my body in an avalanche of grief. I push myself to move. I need to be strong and head to the community house.

I can’t let anyone witness me like this. It’s embarrassing. Yet, I also can’t help it. I can’t help the currents of misery that drown me when I think of him. I can’t help the overwhelming feeling of loss that encloses me whenever I ruminate on our memories.

There’s so much that could have been. It hurts. It hurts so much that we can’t have anything more. I clutch my chest and wheeze a harsh cry. My heart throbs with a pain I should have grown accustomed to by now. This isn’t the first occurrence. But its agony is all the same. When will it stop? When will this hurt go away and let me stop aching? When?

“Luna!” The hand that drops on my shoulder would have stunned me if I wasn’t so used to his presence materialising out of nowhere. “Are you alright? Shall I call for help?”

I ignore him. My vision is clouded with a foggy veil. I lose sight of the present for a second. Redor draws me back to my feet. How pathetic of me. I clench my jaw as the tears multiply. I’m constantly shedding teardrops at every junction.

I can’t contain my emotions whenever I think of him and how he’s no longer here. Can’t restrain them from bursting out. It’s tragic. All too much so. I constantly feel small, chiefly since, to others, I’m doing nothing significant. I hear the gossip, the rumours. They buzz around in a circle and always find a path to my doorstep before rounding homeward to where they emerged.

It’s my fault for letting myself appear so vulnerable. I need to become stronger. For myself. For my people. I await the day when no werewolf will be thrown in jail overnight because I spoke back at the Alpha. I patiently count the moments till I bring it to pass.

It’s just so hard to carry on when it seems like every step forward I take rips a light year away from Mikael. I’m leaving him in the past, and it tears me apart. I want to curl up in a ball left in his room—which has become my sanctuary—and let the days pass by, so I can hold on to every detail of him. I desperately want to preserve all the pieces and fragments of our mementos, even though they were so short and too few.

I hate myself for being so affected by everything that’s happened. It’s the natural course of life in all werewolf clans. I should be accustomed to Alphas rising and falling, but his death devastated me in a way I can’t explain.

I wasn’t even with him for that long. Yet, I dream of him each raw, desolate night. I can’t imagine how couples separated by the cruel hands of death after many years of living together and loving each other survive such an experience. I don’t think I might have lived another second without Mikael if I’d loved him longer. I would have tried and tried and tried again. No being would have stopped me from deserting this world.

I feel sorry for myself. I’ve become a wimp, a former shell of who I was. Three months ago, I wouldn’t have imagined I’d swallow those white pills, bottle after bottle while praying my system shut down. Even two months ago, I wouldn’t have considered myself a coward.

Mikael’s death took me by surprise. I was beside myself with shock and grief. Cillian’s sudden rule exacerbated the effects of the flooring blow to my gut, leaving me traumatised.

He made it all worse. I’d requested my family’s visit from Westardum, but he’d forbade outside contact. I was unable to speak to Crystal or my father, or Amelia. While I still had a grudge against Alpha Connor, I’d needed him to be here. I wanted a pillar to hold me up as I could feel myself slipping away, spiralling into a chasm. I wanted my father. I’ll never forgive Cillian for altering my life so irrevocably. I won’t forget all he’s done, either.

“Will you be alright, Luna?” Redor asks softly as he helps me over the raised platform into the community house.

I breathe in the smell of wet grass and snow, letting it swirl around in my lungs. “I will be. Please call for the women, Redor.”

“As you wish, Luna.” He bends at the waist before exiting to do my bidding.

Everything will go according to plan. It has to. By force or by fire, I will make sure of it.