My Little Butterfly

Chapter Three - The Cost is Too Great

Eight years later

"What in the hell do you mean another four broke the border!?" I yell slamming my hands down on my office desk. Astro is seething as he stands in front of me covered in blood. "That's twenty in a month" I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes. "No matter what we do they keep getting through. I don't know what else to fucking do. I've been staring at this damn map for days" I lift my head and gesture my hand down towards it. "I don't know either," Astro says, scratching the back of his head. He goes to sit down on the black leather couch on the right side of my office but I give him a pointed look, "Don't get blood on my couch" and he sits down anyways. I slam myself back in my chair looking at the entire office. It's pretty big, the size of an average living room, walls all lined with bookcases and a fifty-inch television hung up on the wall beside the door. My desk is all the way back in the room and a window behind it too. I spend most of my time here doing Luna duties and avoiding people too if I'm being honest. "Just call Matthew and have a meeting. See if you can change up both of the border patrols" he suggests. I put a hand up under my chin leaning on the armrest of my chair. I could do that. I mean they're right next to us and it is coming from that side.

"You don't think they're in on this do you?" he huffs pulling out his phone "No I don't. Come on, he grew up with your dad. Do you really think he would do something?" It's my turn to huff in response. I look over at the clock on the wall and see it's past midnight. "I'll call him in the morning," I say standing up. "I'm going to bed," I say walking out of the office not bothering to converse with him.

I go into the kitchen first looking for something to eat because I can't remember the last time I did. A plate covered with a plastic cover sits on the massive counter with a card on it that has my name on it. I lift it and see a plate of tacos causing me to smile. I pick up the plate and go into the elevator. There are four floors in our packhouse so an elevator was very much needed. The bottom floor has the kitchen which is as big as a restaurant, a living room, and a dining room just as big. It also has my office and a conference one too. The next three floors are rooms for us all. They all have bathrooms with them too. I have a section on the top floor just for me though.

I have a bedroom with a living room slightly off of it. A closet and a big bathroom. My king-size bed sits upon a platform that you have to walk up two steps to get to. It has three windows encasing the bed and two end tables on either side. I have a four-post bed frame with a white curtain hung on it. Off the platform is a couch with a television mounted on the wall which is where I sit down to eat my tacos. They're super good and I have to remember to thank whoever made them also because they left me a plate too.

Once I finished them I got up to start the shower. My bathroom is, you guessed it, big. I have a shower in the corner, pure granite, a clawfoot tub in the middle, and a huge vanity as well with double sinks. I'm actually supposed to share these rooms with a mate. I don't plan on that happening though, for the rest of my life. The day I became Luna I swore it off, never.

The more I watch my mother the more I swear it's worse. She's a shell of life now. She doesn't really talk or do anything but stays in her room. The only time I see her is when she comes to sleep with me. Actually, I think I just heard my door open and it's probably her. We don't speak to each other either. There's nothing to say to one another. She knows what my life consists of and I know what hers is. I don't hate my mother but I will never forgive her for this. She could have held on, she could have held on for me. For me. Her child who suffered the same thing as my father. Was he my mate? No, but he was my father who I loved so dearly and looked up to so much. A part of me died that day too, mom. That's what I want to say to her 'A part of me died when dad died too.' but she didn't care. I would have never put my child in the position she put me in. I try not to be angry with her anymore. I mean it's been eight years but I can't, it's so hard not to. Not when I have this weight on my shoulders so much. I shake my head, that's enough of that tonight.