The Alpha's Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger by Ejiofor Dorcas

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.

good man… except

sitting in his favourite chair in the sitting room, barking orders at m Family dinners that revolved around

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

door was slightly ajar, which was unusual. Just as I reached out to push it open, a sound froze

14:46

96 Guilt–tripping grief…

bedroom seemed

and was about to walk in the direction of the closet when the soft, almost muffled chuckling reached my ears

the massive bed and gasped slightly when I saw my mother sitting

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

the chuckling ceased and her gaze shifted from nostalgia to pure hatred that made me involuntarily take a step

something suitable for Dad… for his burial.”

like she was contemplating harming me before attempting to stand. She

I stepped forward to help but a sharp glare from her made me recoil. Reaching for the bedpost instead, she pulled herself up, panting.

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”

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.

She didn’t say anything to me at first. She just walked around the room slowly, her fingers brushing against father’s belongings

onto the bed, running a hand over the quilt

first time I’ve been here, she said softly, tears gathering in her eyes. “Since… since father…” she

beside her, and for a moment, we sat

96 Guilt–tripping grief….

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

lowering my gaze to the floor and nodded. “I just…” I struggled, finding the

her, but it’s

with me.”

anything