The Only Blood

Chapter 35 - This Grief

No. No. No. No.

The fear that had crept up inside had bile rising up my throat. Tears pooled in my eyes.

This was not supposed to happen.

"No!" I screamed in horror, "What did you do?! What did you fucking do?!"

I was crying. I was frantic.

I jumped down my mother's wolf and fell on the ground ungracefully. Without caring for anything else I ran towards Aiden's body, lying limp on the ground, his head a few feet away from him. The sight in front of my eyes was heart-breaking - my mate died...my soulmate died.

No one stopped me from running towards him, not my parents, not even Adrian, who was looking at me from a distance. But I was running too slow - I was running like a human when I wanted to be by his side in an instant.

If we had reached a little earlier, I might have seen him alive for one last time.

I couldn't say goodbye; I couldn't tell him that I forgave him for whatever he did to me, and that a part of me would always love him even if I shouldn't.

The ache in me was no longer because of fear -  it was the strange ache of losing my mate.

I collapsed on the ground next to his body, pressing my hands against his chest. It was still,  not even the slow thrumming of a dying heart. Tears welled up in my eyes. He was dead.

He was dead.

I could never ever imagine him dying or getting killed - he was my mate and no matter what it was, I was weak for him - even during those three weeks, when the bond I had with him could be barely felt. 

I was no saint - I did kill a lot many people while rescuing Liana and during the war. Not killing Aiden had nothing to do with my conscience, but had everything to do with him being a part of my very soul.

When I had given up all hope, even then I couldn't bring myself to kill him just to make sure that I was able to escape away from him. I had actually started to fucking seek comfort from him and depend on him again, just because I had given up on everything and had to suck it up and get the best out of my situation.

And that best thing was supposedly his comfort.

I did everything just to get him to trust me so that he could let me loose just once for me to run away. Never did I think that he had to be killed either way.

Even during all of those times when I plotted bizarre situations in which I would have escaped, I never thought that him dying was a part of the deal. I never thought about his death and never pondered upon how I was supposed to react.

I crawled near his face, his head.

As I stared at his gorgeous face, now frozen with fear etched in his features, I was struck with so much grief, that I would never see those loving eyes, that beautiful smile ever again. Every inch of me knew that I should be hating him, that I should have been happy for his death just because he deserved this - for lying to me, for betraying me and everyone else here.

But I couldn't.

This acute ache in my chest only intensified as I kept staring at his wide-open, frightened eyes. I reached out and closed his eyes, slowly tracing his other features because I knew I was never going to be able to touch him again.

A sob escaped my throat.

The ache only intensified, and combined with my grief I felt like I couldn't breathe.

I took in a deep breath, tried to get myself together, and tried to remember every time he broke my heart, the time I was hiding and listening to him threaten my imprisoned parents. I tried to remember the condition my parents were in, all because of him and the likes of him. I tried to remember the war, when he told me that he needed my blood more than he loved me. I tried to remember how he had poisoned the wolves that were escorting me back to the Were Kingdom, and he had then taken me away.