I n d o м ι т a в l e

(34)

P.s. To those of you who were confused and asked why they couldn't see this chapter, its because apparently it didn't publish last night (I'M SO SORRY). Read on.

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"Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting."
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

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{Chapter: 34}

Unedited ✖

{ A S P E N M O N T G O M E R Y }

Two days had passed since the day Samuel had been killed, as well as the day Athena went MIA and disappeared under the radar.

I couldn't help but feel anxious at first. Athena was by no means my friend and it had been her duty to destroy me the last time we met, but after thinking it over I wondered if there was anything to worry about anymore. Samuel had been killed and I'd already established that he was Athena's ruler, so to speak. He said jump, she said how high. But with Samuel gone, the game changed. Athena wasn't a chess piece in Samuel's sick ploy anymore, so does that mean she has no reason to hurt me anymore?

I could only assume so. She hadn't made any dramatic appearances and without Samuel, Athena was home free. That, or she was dead. The thought wasn't at all pleasant, not like I thought it would be. Athena, in some twisted way, was almost innocent in all of this. The thought of her dead made my stomach churn, but that still didn't erase the lingering taste of bitterness on my tongue.

She'd been more than willing to kill me when the moment had arose. I'd been pinned to the ground, immobile and incapacitated, and Athena had been free to do what she pleased. After the spell, what would she have done? Whether she killed me or not, nothing pleasant was going to happen after she'd finished.

Whatever pack Samuel had left fled out of Grimwater and into the northern territory where it wasn't our job to track them down anymore, leaving only the deceased to be taken care of and buried.

The image of Sam's motionless body lying in a pool of his own blood made my stomach roll until I felt nauseous. The reality that I'd watched him die in front of my own eyes fractured something inside of my inner resolve and made me feel a lot more vulnerable than I would have liked.

He was dead, yes. But something about seeing someone die really made you feel like a piece of trash, enemy or not. Although I'm sure you get used to it after a while, killing people wasn't something I'd particularly like to get used to. 

I tromp through the wooded area behind the small pack village, brushing stray branches out of my way. The training field was a nice trek from Nicholai's house, the overgrown bushes overhanging the thin dirt path that had been created after years of use. I'm sure there is a less exasperating way to get to the field and I remind myself to ask Nicholai about it later as I kick another large stick out of my way.

I break away from the treeline and the field opens up in front of me, dozens of bodies decorating different corners of the field, each buried in their own variety of work. I sidestep several men weight-lifting heavy looking logs, still not past the shock of how...barbaric some of their training methods were.

Were they all still stuck in the stone ages? apart of me snorts.

A bare chest appears right in front of me and I slide to a stop, the heels of my muddy converse squishing against the damp soil and nearly causing me to slip. A hand clasps me on the shoulder and steadies me.