The Alpha’s Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger

96 Guilt – tripping grief … 

Lyla 

It was nearly dusk when I arrived at the pack house and the first time I would be going home since I arrived at Blue Ridge .

I hesitated at the door , taking in a deep breath .

I didn’t know what to expect from my mother .

Did she hate me less now ? 

I glanced over my shoulder at the two pack warriors Beta Jeremy had insisted I come with , their presence felt comforting alright but I knew I had to face whatever was waiting for me inside the house .

“ Wait here , I managed to say to them .

“ I won’t be long ” 

They nodded quietly and stood to one side of the terrace .

I took another deep breath again before knocking .

After a few seconds , the heavy door creaked open revealing one of the pack 

servants .

It was our housekeeper .

As soon as she saw me , she opened the door wider and bowed her head in greeting .

“ Miss Lyla .

” 

“ Good evening .

I flashed her an uneasy smile looking past her shoulders .

“ Are my mother and my sister around ? ” 

“ Miss Clarissa went for a walk around the Packhouse to clear her head , while your mother is resting in the bedroom .

Should I tell her you’re here ? ” 

“ No ! ” I said quickly , feeling relieved somewhat .

“ Let’s not disturb her .

I only came to get an important thing for my dad’s funeral and will be out in no time .

” 

I entered the house , stopping to respond to the greetings of the few domestic staff who passed by or were working silently in the background .

The atmosphere in the house felt depressing .

Everyone I passed had a sombre look on their face .

They were all mourning for my father .

To everyone , he was a good man … except for me .

I made my way through the hallway , trying not to get overwhelmed by the memories that rushed to my mind .

My father sitting in his favourite chair in the sitting room , barking orders at m Family dinners that revolved around their perfect daughter Clarissa and more complaints about me … the scent of his cologne still clung faintly to the air .

Focus , I reminded myself .

Just get suitable clothes for the funeral and leave .

I repeated the mantra in my head , heading for the stairs that led to the master bedroom .

I wasn’t here to wallow in memories or to mourn ; I’d done that enough already … in my own way .

As I approached the master bedroom , I noticed the door was slightly ajar , which was unusual .

Just as I reached out to push it open , a sound froze my steps – soft chuckling , almost delirious drifted from within to my ears .

My breath caught in my throat as I slowly peered inside .

14:46 

€ 96 Guilt – tripping grief … 

The bedroom seemed empty .

Deciding I may just be hearing things , I entered the bedroom this time and was about to walk in the direction of the closet when the soft , almost muffled chuckling reached my ears again .

Startled , I decided to find out what it was .

Following the direction where the sound had come from , I got to the other side of the massive bed and gasped slightly when I saw my mother sitting on the ground , crossed – legged , flipping through a photo album spread across her lap .

Her fingers traced the photos as she flipped through the pages , pausing every so often to laugh or make one weird noise , though it sounded more like a pained release than true laughter .

Her cheeks were streaked with dried tears and her eyes were swollen and red from crying .

I’ve heard that losing your mate- the pain , was worse than rejection and as someone who had experienced what it means to be rejected , I had an idea of how my mother felt right now .

As if sensing my presence , she finally looked up and immediately the chuckling ceased and her gaze shifted from nostalgia to pure hatred that made me involuntarily take a step back .

* I … I just came to get something suitable for Dad … for his burial .

” I stammered , with a trembling voice .

She said nothing .

She merely closed the photo album with a deliberate slowness that felt like she was contemplating harming me before attempting to stand .

She groaned as she tried to stand with her heavily pregnant form .

Instinctively , I stepped forward to help but a sharp glare from her made me recoil .

Reaching for the bedpost instead , she pulled herself up , panting .

Then she walked past me taking the photo album with her.

“ Mom , please , I followed after her still keeping my distance .

“ Can we talk ? I’m sorry … please just tell me how to fix it , I promise I’ll do anything ” 

But she ignored me and continued walking to the door .

I followed her with my gaze fighting the tears that pooled at the corner of my eyes .

As she reached the doorway, I noticed Clarissa was standing there .

My mother passed by without saying a word to her .

I quickly looked away , hoping to hide the tears in my eyes but Clarissa entered the room anyway .

She didn’t say anything to me at first .

She just walked around the room slowly , her fingers brushing against father’s belongings – his reading glasses on the nightstand , the watch he always forgot to wear , his favourite sweater draped over a chair .

Finally , she sank onto the bed , running a hand over the quilt on it .

“ This is the first time I’ve been here , she said softly , tears gathering in her eyes .

“ Since … since father … ” she couldn’t finish the sentence , but she didn’t need to .

I crossed the room and sat down beside her , and for a moment , we sat in silence .

96 Guilt – tripping grief ….

She lost her mate , her best friend plus carrying a baby doesn’t make it easier .

The pack healers .

say that she’s in deep grief – it’s hitting her harder than anyone expected and they said it’ll take time , but she’ll come back to us eventually .

I bit my lip , lowering my gaze to the floor and nodded .

“ I just … ” I struggled , finding the words .

almost painful to say aloud .

“ I wanted to help her , but it’s like she doesn’t want to do 

with me .

” 

anything 

Clarissa didn’t say anything .

After a few more seconds of silence , she pointed to the rocking chair in the corner of the bedroom .

“ Remember how father used to read to us here ? ” she laughed .

“ Every morning before he goes to the office he’d do all the different voices for each 

character .

” 

I smiled , my heart swelling at the memory .

That was before I started getting my heat .

“ Or when he’d chase us around the yard , pretending to be some rogue wolf .

” 

Clarissa nodded , as a tear rolled down her cheek now .

“ He was a good father , Lyla … to both of us .

I know … ” she took a deep breath .

“ I know it got rocky for you at some point but he didn’t stop loving you in the end .

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When they took him to the pack hospital at the White Mountains … before his surgery … he had a brave smile on his face and he demanded to see you .

” 

I was familiar with the guilt – tripping that came with 

wasn’t interested even if our father suddenly start ef .

I didn’t know how to tell Clarissa that I 

to accept that he asked for me on his sick bed .

loving me before he died .

I was too broken 

I didn’t care at all .

I was only here out of duty and not obligation .

“ Would 

you 

like my 

my help ? ” she asked suddenly , wiping the tears from her cheeks .

“ To help you 

choose suitable clothes for dad .

I have an idea what his favourite might be .

” 

I nodded with a small smile .

“ Sure ! ”