Luna

Chapter 43

No one ever prepares you for the aftermath of the wanton destruction of life. The pain, sorrow, and depression that result from the sudden loss of a lover, brother, sister, mother, father, and friend, among other significant persons in your life. The sudden hollow part in your life that leaves you dazed and confused with no clear direction of where to turn. The void in your heart where someone used to occupy.

It's not until you've felt such a loss in your life that you come to truly understand the shock of the abrupt emptiness that causes an intense ache deep within - an ache with no cure and one that could drive you to a state of craze. An ache so intense, it is aggravated by each apology you receive from those that stand within the shadows of the bond with your loved one. Aggravated by the sympathy shown by those that could never understand the kinship within the bond you created. Yet, with all my knowledge within the subject, all I want to do is apologize to the woman wailing for a loss in the corner of the room and hold the hands of the group of weres feeding off of each others strength within their time of sorrow.

My heart feels heavy with indescribable anguish and a familiarity with the situation I face. I feel a strange sense of responsibility that pushes me to take in the scene before me and engrave every minute detail within my brain. So, for a moment, I stand perfectly still in the middle of the organized chaos that was Pynola pack and take in every detail.

"Luna?" the distant voice of Joe, one of the warriors who accompanied us here, snaps me out of my bubble, pulling me back to reality. Like all the other warriors within the pack, his eyes hold an intensity that could cause anyone to tremble with fear. His posture is rigid and intimidating as he stands at about six feet tall, looking down at my short height expectantly.

Beside him, Matt watches me with worry deep within his eyes. His features are dark, aura thick, and chest puffed as he runs a hand over my arm with a gentle touch. "Are you okay?" he whispers, his eyes running over my face.

Nodding my head, I turn my attention back to the grieving weres where I feel my soul being pulled.

I have to go there; I have to help them, a voice chants repetitively in my head.

"Desmond and Hondo Pack are also here," Dean mutters. "I'll go find someone who can fill us in on what's happening."

Nodding my head, I walk over to the grieving woman who has captured my attention entirely. Her cries call to me, breaking my heart and fill me with so much pain. I hate seeing her like this - I hate seeing all of them like this, so I follow the voice in my head with no clue on what I am actually doing. I just need to get there.

I'm vaguely aware of Matt's seemingly stern voice trailing behind me when I lower myself to the woman surrounded by other females. She's small built with a gorgeous rich chocolate melanin skin tone. Her hair is beautifully braided in box braids accessorized with gold beads and gold yarn. The aura she emits is that of high ranking. She's the Luna of the pack, and recently, a widow.

My heart aches for her. The pain she's feeling evident in the eyes that bore into mine with so much emptiness and grief. The helplessness and hopelessness I feel deep within her crippling every part of me as I yearn to reach into the soul that has been left damaged from such a heavy loss. She is lost in this vast world, every part of her being desperately searching for comfort and answers within the depth of my eyes.

Slowly, my hands reach up and cup her cheeks as the women surrounding us eagerly and cautiously watch our interaction, and a faint chorus of growls hums within the distance as my sole concentration is her.

"It hurts," her voice cracks in a small whisper that causes a lone tear to tumble down my cheek. She doesn't need to say more, for I see the pain that has taken her hostage. Pain that would have driven any other mate and parent to take their life after such a tragedy, yet she desperately holds onto this world by the skin of her teeth. Her strength and courage are surely a testament to the willpower and tenacity of a woman who wishes to survive for the tiny heartbeat pulsating ever so silently within the enclosure of her womb. A heartbeat so tiny, I doubt even she knows of its existence, yet she holds onto this cruel world with everything she has with her females beside her, giving her all the strength they can muster.