Luna | The Wolves of Lusana [Vol. 2]

Thirteen

I have always hated funerals.

Death wasn't what bothered me, what was said usually did. I'm so sorry for your loss. He's in a better place. I'm here for you. Sayings that you hear over and over again and you know that the person means well, but you still know that you can never truly understand what that person was going through until you go through it yourself.

It was a gorgeous day outside, the sun was shining but still, there was a heaviness around that threatened to crush me. With a heavy sigh, I made my way into the bathroom and turned the faucet of the sink on before washing my face, hoping to hide the fact that I had cried all night. I moved slowly and got dressed in a pair of black slacks and an equally black blouse, the delicate lace covering my chest and along my neckline. I threw on some sandals forgoing the flats and made my way in the living room where Elijah was waiting for me wearing a crisp suit.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded and he gave me a small smile before offering his hand, which I took, and followed him outside towards the car. I wanted Daniel to lay peacefully despite what happened to him, and I still wanted justice, but I knew I needed to take the time to heal.

The drive to the funeral home was a quiet one. I didn't feel like talking and I was positive Elijah wasn't sure what to say besides what I would hear later today. The only thing I could find comfort in was that Daniel wasn't in pain but I couldn't help but feel guilty: if I hadn't been there sooner, maybe he would still be alive. I sighed, staring out the window as we drove through the forest and back towards civilization.

* * *

I couldn't hear what the officiate was saying. It was all a jumbled mess as I watched them lower his casket into the ground. It was a small ceremony, myself, Elijah, Clarissa, Lucas and a few of his coworkers in attendance. Our parents were long dead, laying side my side next to their openly son. I squeezed the stem of the rose in my hand, for once thankful that they had cut the thorns off, if not I would have sliced my hand open by now. My heart still beat against my chest but I still couldn't shake the sadness that clutched it.

It seemed like an eternity as the officiate tried to lead us away from the grave but I couldn't move. I was frozen, staring at his casket as if begging for him to pop out at any moment. But it wouldn't open and remained forever silent. Finally, I moved slowly toward his marker, setting the rose on top before following everyone back inside. Clutching Elijah's arm, he held onto me while I leaned against him, my mind and body entirely numb.

* * *

It had been nearly a week since Daniel's death and already I could feel my wolf wanting to be released. I still wasn't over what happened and probably never will be. With a sigh, I knocked on the office door of the pack's therapist: Dr. Linda Martin, and made my way inside when I heard her call. She was tall, almost six foot two and her hair was cut short in a stylish pixie cut that fit her thin frame. She smiled down at me and motioned for me to sit.

"Hi Emilia, I'm glad you made it." She greeted as I sat down in front of her, "How are you feeling today?"

I shrugged, "Okay I guess, I'm still upset about what happened."

She nodded, "And would you like to elaborate," she paused, "on what happened?"

I took a deep breath, my mind starting to panic as the memories flooded. The venom coursing throughout my body and the hopelessness I felt as the wolf tried to assault me after murdering the only living family member I had left.

"Emilia," Linda started, her voice steady and calm, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But bottling up your emotions won't help you heal."