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Forty Seven

April 2

What if the Mate-Killers taking Gabby had been on purpose? What if Caoimhe had meant for that?

In the now-empty dining hall of the pack house, Saoirse sat hunched over the table with a re-heated plate before her. She knew the plate had been left out for her as a note was attached with the word 'Luna" written on it. After shifting back, Saoirse had showered in Odeya's room and borrowed from her an oversized t-shirt, and soft pants. The bottoms of her feet were bare as they tapped naked against the cool hardwood floor. Occasionally, Saoirse absent-mindedly shifted just the tips of her toes into paws and curled them back and forth between the shifts. She realized that she was comparable to a child as she was learning everything for the first time. Well, she technically was that of a child experiencing everything for the first time. No one had taught things such as this before, considering wolves were meant to be born as so. To grow up with the instincts of shifting and mating.

Her thoughts, of course, always made their way back to Gabby. Saoirse couldn't evade the vivid nightmares that engulfed her daily life. Thoughts of Gabby lead to her sister, Caoimhe. Caoimhe, and her deterioration over the few years Saoirse had found her for. In their first year together, it had only been one since the passing of Gabby's father. And Caoimhe never talked about it, but she never did appear mentally aligned again. In that first year, she tried to grieve. She tried to cry it out, to pray, to love her daughter as much as she could. But, over time, Saoirse watched as her sister's behaviour turned into that of a caterpillar, cocooning in her blankets on her single, dirty mattress. She observed as her sister moved less and less, ate less and less. How she become nothing more than a shell of the sister Saoirse once remembered. It was then that Saoirse realized Gabby was in need of a new guardian.

Saoirse knew the deterioration of her sister was due to the death of her mate. Again, this idea or concept of the werewolf world was meant to be common sense, as simple as directing left and right. And yet it took Saoirse all this time to try and piece things together. The reason Saoirse couldn't bear to be more than 30 meters from Obsidian was because of the night he had turned her. He dug teeth marks deep into her flesh, binding him to her and her to him in a way she hadn't consented to. And though she had rejected him, it only washed away its physical evidence. Odeya and Oracle could bear to be territories apart, even after years of growing up together, because she did not share his mark. Her skin was still pure with intention, untainted from her mate's lust. Her mother too, Mama, had rejected her mate and walked away, never turning back because she did not bare puncture marks on her jugular. And again, Emaline left unharmed after the death of Oak.

It wasn't the mate that killed you, it was the mark.

It was why Obsidian's father had died of a broken heart. Why Caoimhe slowly lost her spark after her mate's passing. Finally, Saoirse could relate to her sister more than ever, and only due to the loss of a mate. Saoirse tried her best to rarely think thoughts of Eye, to barricade the memories of him out all at once, or else she feared she would spiral. She knew the physical pain that came immediately following the death, the same experience Caoimhe must have had all alone, before Saoirse found her. She knew of the gut-wrenching cramps, the heavy depression, the unbearable sadness . . .

All Saoirse could focus on during those years was how annoying Caoimhe was, always asking Saoirse if she was going to go to college, that she should, that she deserved better and had more potential and needed to get out of here.

What if Caoimhe had had a plan? What if she had always had a way out for Gabby, a way out for herself, and Saoirse was only caught in the middle? What if Caoimhe had meant for the Mate-Killers to have Gabby, and for her own suffering to end?