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 for

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

14:46

Guilt–tripping

seemed empty.

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

the other side of the massive bed and gasped slightly when I saw

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

finally looked up and immediately the chuckling ceased and her gaze shifted from nostalgia to pure hatred that made me involuntarily take a

suitable for Dad… for his burial.” I stammered, with a trembling

deliberate slowness that felt like she was contemplating harming me before attempting to stand. She groaned as she tried to

the bedpost instead, she pulled

distance. “Can we talk? I’m sorry… please just tell me how

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

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

the bed, running a hand over

she said softly, tears gathering in her eyes. “Since… since father…” she couldn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to.

crossed the room and sat down beside her, and for a

96 Guilt–tripping grief….

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

my gaze to the floor and nodded. “I just…” I

to say aloud. “I wanted to help her, but

with me.”

anything