Blamed

Chapter 69

Funerals. Something that I was used to, but was tired of. In a pack, there were always funerals. Not particularly back to back, but over time. That was just life though. People come and go, and they cannot live forever so we have to accept it. Yet...

How can I begin to accept her death?

She was different than the others. It wasn't just me getting ready and putting on a suit so I can help console the pack and the family who lost someone. For me, that someone was my mate. My other half.

Maybe that is selfish. How could I possibly weigh her life more than someone else's?

Because it was Crimson.

Dull, green eyes gazed back at me as I stared at my bedroom mirror. Any emotion that I was feeling previously was gone. A feeling of numbness settled underneath my skin, sinking to my bones. I couldn't cry, I couldn't weep, I couldn't yell. I just felt...

Weak.

My body ached painfully and with each breath I took, an almost knee crippling sharp pain would follow. It was as if someone was stabbing me repeatedly in the chest. My face felt tight from the almost hour-long crying that I did after everyone left. I haven't cried this much since... since mom and dad died.

A thought flashed through my mind.

It should have been me. Not her.

I should have been the one that died. Life should have been granted to her, not me. I don't deserve it. All my life, I've been nothing but selfish and cruel. Why do I get to live?

"Paxton! Are you dressed?"

The reality of what the next hour holds slapped me in the face and I inhaled deeply, embracing the painful shudder that came with it.

"Yes," the word fell from my lips as a whisper and I didn't bother in repeating myself.

I dropped my gaze to rest on the top of the dresser and I picked up a pair of shades I had found in my closet. The sunglasses rattled softly as my hand shook and I slipped them on my face. The dark frames shielded my sullen eyes and they felt cool on my skin.

"Everything is ready!"

I stepped away from the dresser and mirror, running my eyes down the black suit and shoes that I managed to put on without hurting myself. My foot was bandaged tightly and I was grateful that the inside of my shoe wasn't irritating it.

The bedroom door creaked as I pulled it open and I could feel my nerves tremble with the hinges. I am about to bury my mate, then bury myself.

After everyone knows what I did, I can only imagine they would want to kill me.

A sigh left my lips at that thought. I can only hope for that.

The stairs squeaked awkwardly as I descended them, and soon enough the noise caught Karlos' attention.

He whirled around to face me and immediately, I could sense he wanted to say something. His eyebrows were knitted together in thought and he kept running a hand down the front of his black dress shirt.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he rushed out. I raised a brow and came to stand beside him. My leg felt heavier from me nearly limping.

"Speak your mind, Karlos," I muttered. He blew out a breath.

"Ophena has returned home. I tried to stop her, but she insisted that she didn't have to be here." He said.