4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Shade
I'm alone.
Everyone else has left to chase their grief, but I'm still sitting here.
That's the first thing that comes to my mind as I watch Viper and Knox walk away.
A count.
One Omega dead on the ground. One Alpha taking himself and a victim apart in the nearby tent. Two Alphas on a death march into the forest.
And me. One Beta left alone.
I'm sad and so, so angry.
I don't know where to put it.
There’s no target useful enough for it. The woman who pulled the trigger is already in Blaze’s hands. Stone is out of reach. The war is too large to punch.
So I sit with the anger because there’s nowhere else for it to go. I sit and I mull over how close we were to having it all.
I thought I was finished with being alone.
That was the trick of it. Halley made me believe I’d never have to be alone ever again. That I'd have a family like the one I lost as a young boy. Our Pack felt fated, like some deity was steering and fusing us together despite all of our jagged edges.
But now I'm the last one here.
Blaze is gone. There will be no coming back for him. His mind will finally fracture completely, and he'll just be a wraith eager to kill and mutilate.
Knox said to take care of him. I know he doesn't mean in a caregiver capacity. Rather, he means in the same way he is taking care of Viper.
Of himself.
He's not coming back.
None of them are.
The three Alphas will join our Omega in death because their instincts demand it of them after failing to protect her. And I'll be left behind. I'll have to survive without them, and I don't know if I can.
I don't think I want to.
The thought arrives with terrible calm.
If Knox does what I know he plans to do, if Viper is gone, if Blaze never comes back from the dark place he’s crawled into, then I will be the last member of Pack Scorch.
I don’t know how to survive that.
I’m not sure I want to learn.
Ending it has never crossed my mind before. I’ve never liked leaving anything early. There is always more to know, more to read, another theory to test, another answer hiding three files deeper than expected.
I stay until the library closes. Until the database times out. Until my Prime Alpha calls a retreat.
Tonight, for the first time, I understand the appeal of closing the book myself.
I watch Knox follow Viper until they disappear into the forest, and then return to sitting beside Halley.
The air is still, almost reverent. I don’t know if the camp has emptied, or if everyone is quiet as a sign of respect, but the night is peaceful.
Halley's skin is cool, and her lips are pale. She hasn't gone rigid yet, not enough time has passed, but it won't be long.
I expected her to look more dead. Instead, she looks like she's sleeping. The blood spoils the illusion, so I set about the task of cleaning her, wiping away the evidence of our failure.
I use my canteen to wet a roll of gauze from the medic kit sitting uselessly beside me and gently rub away the red from her arms, chest, neck, and face. The water mixes with the blood on the ground and turns pink.
"Baby girl, you didn't deserve to die here like this." I speak to her softly, the same way I would if she were alive, and it's almost like I can hear her voice in my head again.
'I wanted to be here, Shade,' she'd say. 'I wanted to make a difference.'
A rueful laugh escapes me, and I shake my head.
She did make a difference. Just not in the way she thought she would.
I have the data to prove it if anyone ever asks. Knox learned how to bend his rules without breaking. Viper learned there was more to his future than a bullet. Blaze learned to care for something other than himself.
And me?
I started planning for a life after the war.
That was reckless of me.
In some ways, she's more of a soldier than most I've met. Doggedly loyal and determined to help her Omega friends, sacrificing her own happiness to save their lives.
My ears strain for the gunshot I know is coming. The forest is still silent, the trees swaying in the dark, so I keep wiping our Omega clean.
"I bet you're mad that General Stone never told you where your Omegas are, aren't you?" I say, untangling her hair from a congealing blood clot. "I wouldn't bother haunting him, though. He's probably already surrounded by scorned ghosts."
'Frack, plan foiled!' she'd laugh, clicking her tongue in mock disappointment.
I never asked why she said frack instead of fuck. I never asked her about a lot of things.
"I hope your friends are safe."
'But what if they're not.'
The voice in my head is getting clearer.
That is concerning.
Grief should echo and repeat what I already know. This sounds like Halley forming new opinions, which is either evidence of an unsurprising grief-induced psychological break or something deeply disturbing.
I shrug to myself.
Does it matter what it is? Besides, whatever is talking to me makes a good point.
Now that Halley is gone, who will look for her Omegas?
Who will make sure they're safe and cared for?
If they're even a little bit like my sweet girl, I can't stomach the idea that they're out there somewhere, needing help.
I sigh and scrub my hand over my face as understanding sinks in.
It has to be me.
Someone has to look for them. Not because I want an adventure, or even to live, but because Halley wants them found, and I'm the only one sitting here with enough mind left to remember it.
I'll pick up her mantle and complete Halley's mission. It's how I will honor my Omega.
"I’ll find them, baby girl," I whisper. "If they’re out there, I’ll find them."
'I'll just have to haunt you instead until you fulfill that promise.'
I sigh.
She doesn't have to threaten me with that. I already know she'll be with me for the rest of my life.
Eventually, when I can't avoid it any longer, I swipe the cloth over the wound on her neck. The blood is thick and coagulated, and it takes a while to clear.
'Ow! Be gentle.'
"Sorry, baby girl."
I rinse off the cloth and go back for another wipe.
My hand stops.
The wound.
The one that killed her should be there.
Entry trauma to the throat. Catastrophic blood loss. Fatal within minutes without intervention, and we had no intervention to give.
But it's not there.
It's gone.
There's a high-pitched ringing sound in my head.
I blink and stare at the clear skin. I blink again, waiting for my delusion to pass. Nothing changes.
Her skin remains unspoiled, and I'm not hallucinating. There really is nothing where her wound was. Except that’s not quite true. There's a mark. A small pinkish raised line, like a freshly healed wound on an Alpha.
What does that mean?
I'm levelheaded. I trust data, not superstition, so I need an experiment to check that this is real.
My hand trembles as I gently roll her onto her side and lift her shirt. I press the cloth to the wound on her lower back and wipe the area clean. A choked gasp escapes me, and I nearly drop her in my rush to roll her back over.
Gone.
The knife wound is gone too.
'Don't spiral, Beta Specialist,' she chastises me softly. 'You taught me to always look for the logical explanation.'
I inhale sharply, unwilling to examine why her voice is suddenly crystal clear in my head, and focus on the conundrum before me.
We've experienced advanced healing since bonding with each other. That isn’t new, but Halley is still an Omega. She shouldn’t have healed this fast. She shouldn’t have healed at all, because she’s dead.
Dead people don’t heal.
Except when she died, both wounds were still gaping open, gushing blood.
So how did they heal after her heart stopped beating?
I stare at her.
Hope is not evidence.
I know that.
But to me, she's always been one part Omega, two parts miracle.
Could it be?
I feel stupid, but I press my ear to her chest, straining for the smallest of sounds.
At first, there is nothing.
Then I hear it.
A faint flutter against my ear. Barely a beat.
Ba-dum.
Her heart is beating.
'You always did make my heart beat faster.'
"Halley," I whisper her name as tears burn the backs of my eyes.
'Hey, Shade.'
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
I am certain I am hallucinating now, because I think our Omega just came back from the dead.