Fall of the Packs: Blood Ties

Chapter Thirteen

Aaron didn't have a word for the plethora of emotions running through himself and the whole pack. He'd seen everything from pity and regret to indifference and contempt, with shades of sorrow or even some sort of dark approval. But he did have a word for one thing that he felt more than anything else.

Disgust.

Disgust with the pack, with his parents, and with himself more than anything else. He was disgusted that they had let a puppy die. Disgusted that some of them didn't seem to care. Disgusted that he didn't comfort his sister after she had just lost her child.

There had been a measure of celebration when the defenders returned to the clearing. They'd driven out the bear, like good, strong Storm Pack defenders. But the elation faded in the face of the broken body of a four-month-old puppy and her hysterically sobbing mother.

Aaron had seen tears in his father's eyes as he turned away. He'd seen his mother reach her paw out for a split second as though considering going up to Mercy to comfort her, but she had stopped. He'd seen Axle, Kuro, and Mira sitting huddled together, looking shell-shocked. Their whole world had just turned upside down.

Kestrel had ordered Night, the only current trainee, to dig a grave. But no one came to see Petra buried. Solstice didn't even pray over her, which irked at Aaron even more. Could her spirit be at rest without the words to commemorate her to Siglitun's land? It seemed... cruel.

The turmoil he was experiencing negatively affected his abilities as a defender, but even though he received stern words from both Cameron and Kestrel, he refused to talk about it. That is until Sortita pinned him down.

"You're not good at keeping your emotions in, Aaron," she growled at him. "And it's going to end badly for everyone if you keep trying."

"Isn't counseling your aunt's job?" he replied sullenly.

"Solstice doesn't know you like I do," she said. "And I didn't think you'd talk to her. But I did think you'd talk to me." She gave him a hard look. "Was I wrong?"

"What's to talk about? Three half-breed pups or four, what's the difference, right?" Aaron said, a strong note of bitterness in his voice.

Sortita sighed. "The last few months have been... complicated. I know this is really hard for you. I can't imagine how I'd feel if I suddenly found out that Tara was mates with some dog from another pack."

"You don't have to worry about that," Aaron muttered. Tara had just given birth to Solar's son, and his eyes weren't unnatural.

"But after... what happened..." Sortita continued, ignoring his comment. "I think you've been blaming yourself, and you shouldn't."

"Why not?" Aaron demanded, facing her for the first time. "I was on sentry duty. I should have noticed that they were gone. Someone should have noticed. We all got so used to pretending that they didn't exist that they waltzed right out of the clearing and nobody noticed."

"I still think you're overreacting," Sortita began, but Aaron cut her off. "She was a puppy, Sortita. All of them are just puppies. It doesn't matter what color their eyes are or who their father is. She didn't deserve to die. You can't look me in the eye and tell me that I shouldn't care just because she was a half-breed. It's wrong."

Sortita flattened her ears. "I... I don't know what to think," she murmured finally.

Aaron dug his claws into the dirt. He could still hear Warlock's voice as his grandfather told him and Mercy stories about the history of Storm Pack, about how they had always been better than the other pack. He remembered regarding the other packs condescendingly, always believing he was superior to them. And he couldn't think about Mercy and her pups and her unlawful union without a shudder of revulsion. But he also remembered how he would have fought and killed and laid down his life to keep Mercy safe. He remembered when he'd seen her four pups for the first time and he'd been filled with love and pride. It had been different then, they had been "normal." But why did that have to change? They were of his own blood, mingled though it may be. And all his life he'd always valued family above everything else.

"It goes against everything we were ever taught," Aaron said. "But I just can't look at it the same way anymore. I hope that one day you'll understand."

He turned and walked away, leaving Sortita behind. He was now single-minded in his task. He needed to find Mercy.

It wasn't hard to guess where she would be. It was where she was a lot these days. Deep in the woods, separate from Storm Pack's traditional burial site, there was one little grave and Mercy went there every day. Aaron could see her through the pines and, in spite of his previous determination, he hesitated. All of his old arguments came swirling up. She was a traitor, she was a liar, she was the one who had hurt him. For a moment, he almost turned back around and left her.

He heard the sound of a strangled sob. The shafts of sunlight that cut through the tree branches caught on a glistening tear as it slid down her muzzle.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and raised his head. It didn't matter anymore. All of his anger, his hurt, his reluctance, it faded away in the light of a simple truth.

His sister was crying.

Aaron walked forward until he stood just a few feet behind her, and he gently called her name. He saw her jolt in surprise and she slowly turned around. Their eyes met and the fact that fear was the first thing he saw in them broke his heart. He dared to come closer and slowly rested his head on top of hers. She stiffened at first, and for a moment he thought she was going to pull away, but then she relaxed. She sank into him, her weeping renewing in full force.

"Oh, Aaron," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Shh, shh," he murmured. "Hey, it's okay. Listen, I'm the one who should be sorry. I did everything wrong. Mercy, please... do you forgive me?"

She raised her head and he saw something like happiness in her eyes for the first time in months. "Of course I do," she said with a smile that shone like the sun through her tears. "I've missed you so much."

Aaron smiled, feeling his own eyes dampen. "Yeah. I've missed you too."

For a long time they stayed there, embracing without words. Eventually, Mercy finally sat back up, although she still leaned against him. "I never thought I could be so happy and hurt so much at the same time," she said. "Aaron, losing a pup... it's like a piece of my heart is gone."

"I'm so sorry," Aaron murmured. "I should have noticed. I should have stopped it from happening."

"It's not your fault," Mercy said with a shake of her head. "We both made mistakes."

After a few more moments, Aaron finally gave voice to what had been bothering him for so long. "Mercy, I just have one question. ...Why?"

She stared at the ground. "I... It's so hard to explain. I knew that I shouldn't have, but... It just felt so right. Can't you understand?"

"...No. I'm sorry but I can't and I don't think I ever will. I don't want to blame your pups for it anymore, but I just can't understand why, after everything we were taught."

"I know. I'm so sorry. Do... do you still forgive me?"

"Would I be here if I didn't?" Aaron asked, a note of playfulness creeping into his voice before he returned to the subject. "But you still aren't going to tell us who the father is?"

"Oh, Aaron, I can't," Mercy said, staring at him plaintively. "I know you don't understand, but I just can't. Please... can we just... put it behind us? Everything that he and I had, it... well, it's gone. I just want my pups to grow up happy." Her voice began to break. "I just want them to grow up."

"No one's going to forget, Mercy," Aaron said seriously. "I forgive you, and I'd like to think that Mom and Dad will too, eventually. But no one is ever going to forget."

She hung her head. "You're right. I know. Things can't ever go back to how they were. But I think, now that you're with me... they'll be better."

He smiled and licked the top of her head. "They will be. ...I love you, Mercy."

"I love you, too."

As they continued to sit together, Aaron reflected that the rest of the pack would not be near as accepting, and he couldn't deny that he was still frustrated about her decision. Still, he supposed, that was part of being in a family. He felt warmer than he had in months and he knew that he had done the right thing. There were a lot of challenges ahead for them, but he and his sister were together, truly together again, and that was all that mattered.