Grief
Calista
Iexhale a long breath, trying to settle my nerves. I haven’t been in this suite since the summer Mom married Henry a couple of years ago. Nothing has been changed or moved. The living space is exactly how I left it.
Through the glass balcony door, pale sunlight kisses the small town of Poppy Cove.
From here, it looks charming and quiet, quaint and almost like the setting of a fairy tale.
Rows of stone-fronted houses scatter the land around a large valley.
The morning mist from the marine layer clings to everything, hiding the bright orange, red, and yellow wildflowers that are the town’s namesake.
Stepping closer to the balcony, I peer at the stone terrace below. I never considered climbing down from the third story, but I bet I could manage it.
What am I even thinking? I’m not a prisoner here. Why do I suddenly feel like a teenager trying to sneak out? Because I don’t belong here. I never have, and I never will.
They might’ve taken me from the Omega Resort, but I’m still an independent omega. I’ll make sure Pack Kismet treats me as such. If I don’t, I’ll stray from the life I want, and I’ve already come so far.
Too bad grief and defeat threaten to send me to my knees when I stop thinking about myself and my future.
I abandon the balcony and step into my heels that I left by the door.
Lucas was nice enough to grab them when I abandoned them in my apartment.
I’m still wearing the sexy dress Ivy had picked out.
I haven’t bothered looking in my old wardrobe yet.
I already know it’s filled with modest, childish clothing that was never appropriate for my age.
I left everything behind when I moved out and relied on the Omega Independence Program to fulfill my needs until I started working at the Lounge and could fulfill my own.
It has only been a day since I left, but it feels like forever ago. I was just starting to really figure out how to play the game of getting what I want and truly supporting myself.
And now, here I am, starting over again. This time, with a pack who is more lost than I am.
Shaking my head, I do my best to knock the thoughts from my mind.
It’s difficult not to lose myself in these surroundings.
I can’t even look at the space that used to be my nest. I was shipped off to the Omega Resort before my first heat.
My nest was just an attempt at copying my mom, thinking it was exactly what I should do.
She was all I had as an example until I landed on my feet with a new outlook on my life.
I exit my room into an opulent hallway. It’s double the width of the one outside of my apartment in the Omega Resort, and it’s decorated as if it were intended for royalty with crown molding, glittering crystal chandeliers, and ornate gold accents from trim pieces to the framed paintings of the town.
Maybe the Kismet Estate once was for royalty, long ago and before democracy took over the country.
I don’t really know. Omegas aren’t taught history in school.
Everything we want to learn, we must do so ourselves.
And history? That’s not something that interests me.
My love fell more toward literature. Even then, I haven’t had a chance to read a book in a while.
My life’s been far too busy with just making a living and attempting to save for financial freedom.
Speaking of, I need to figure all of that out now. I’ll lose my shit if my finances get merged with Pack Kismet’s. That was part of the sponsor’s contract. Anything I made is solely mine. It prevented packs from using omegas even more.
I create a mental note of everything I must make clear to Henry’s heirs as I head toward the staff staircase, refusing to take the elevator down to the ground floor.
I always thought the elevators here were frivolous, and they should just be kept open for the staff to use.
I always felt bad when I saw one of the housekeepers lugging something up the stairs when none of the elevators were being used.
Not that they couldn’t use it, they just wouldn’t in case it was needed or absolutely necessary.
I hope things have changed since my mom moved in.
I’m not exactly sure how she ran this household.
She was always kind and considerate, not caring about whether or not a person was employed as staff.
To her, everyone in our lives was an important part of our pack.
It’s one of the reasons my biological father got aggressive with her. He thought anyone who worked for Pack Costa was beneath him. He’d never allow them to use the pack title.
I heave a breath and scrub my hands into my hair, massaging my head. I haven’t thought about my dad in forever. He never involved himself in my life even when Mom was still with him. I was of no use to him. He had planned to get rid of me the moment I came of age.
I make it to the next landing and pause, staring at the familiar floor. It smells like my mom. It’s a scent I could never forget, crisp like fall air, yet warm and sweet like roasting marshmallows. It’s enough to make me hesitate.
I forgot my suite was above hers and Henry’s. She insisted I remain close to her when we moved in. She wanted me to be able to find her quickly and be near if I needed her. It’s little things like that I’ve forgotten since moving out. And now, my heart hurts.
I could use her right now. Not just because my life is now in a state of disarray. I feel alone.
Glancing around, I take in the ornate frames of paintings lining the small foyer.
I haven’t seen them before, but it looks as if she had commissioned artwork based on photos.
And there’s one of me, sitting on a swing, wearing a frilly dress with a huge smile on my face.
I remember taking that picture and to see that an artist turned me into artwork with colorful cotton candy clouds and sunshine blanketing over my hair strikes a nerve.
Because that was the first time I remember being happy after arriving here when Henry showed me a playground on the grand estate.
It was his sons’, and they were too big for it.
I might have been too old to play on swings, but I liked to sit there and read, and my mom just happened to catch me one afternoon.
I swipe the back of my hand over my cheek, smearing my unbidden tears.
I suddenly wish I could turn back time to that day.
My mom hugged me for so long, and she told me that my life would be this happy forever.
It was also the day she asked to know what I wanted from life, and I told her that I wanted freedom.
I told her that I was afraid of turning into her, and that I could see the sadness in her eyes.
Well, until that moment. I saw that Henry made her happy.
I silently try to convince myself to turn back toward the stairs, but my feet drag me forward, my heels squishing into the soft floor runner leading up to the closed double doors of my mom’s suite.
I was never forbidden from entering, but something about the looming doors now seems inaccessible.
It’s as if I’m a stranger, breaking into a place I don’t belong.
Her scent permeates stronger, and now I can also smell Henry.
His scent was never overpowering to me, and I suspect he liked to use a special blocker that deodorized his alpha odor.
He was one of the few men who didn’t always want to declare his position.
And Mom loved him for that. Their marriage worked because of it.
Touching my fingers to the cool handle of the dark wooden door, I finally gather my nerve and push it open.
My hand flies to my mouth, and I stifle an unexpected cry.
I didn’t know that Pack Kismet brought my mom home.
Henry too. I guess it’s not uncommon. They would never allow a body to just remain in a cold morgue.
Funerals happen quickly, and it looks as if a mortician has already dressed Mom for her final rest.
My mouth quivers as another sob wracks my chest. I wasn’t prepared to see her like this. I wasn’t prepared to see her at all. A huge, dominant part of me wants to run away, but it’s as if something demands I stay here.
“Mom,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Oh, Mom. How could this have happened?” Swiping my hands over my face again, I try my best to rid the tears from my cheeks, but they just won’t stop flowing.
I can feel myself breaking, piece by piece, falling around me.
Except I still stand tall. I don’t vanish into nothing.
My watery eyes protect me from facing the reality in front of me. I rush toward her bed and touch my hand to her cold cheek, her makeup heavy and unlike anything she would ever wear. I hate it. I hate everything about this.
“This is a nightmare. This is all just a nightmare. You have to tell me this is a joke,” I say, tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling.
“You can’t be dead. I’m not ready. I’m still trying to find my way.
I need you.” I realize now that it’s true, and it’s not just because she and Henry have been paying for my independence.
I need her guidance. I need to know what to do now.
I need to know how to handle this situation.
Because nothing could have taught me or prepared me for this.
Something comes over me and I yell out and swing, punching the headboard of the gigantic bed, making it seem as if Mom and Henry are asleep.
A blanket is pulled up to their chests, hiding any damage caused by the wreck.
I can barely even see the cuts and bruises on their faces because of the heavy postmortem makeup.
Pain screams from my fingers, but it doesn’t stop me from swinging again. The pain helps distract me from everything else.
“Calista, please. Lis, you have to stop. You’re hurting yourself.” The familiar voice doesn’t snap me from my grief-filled rage. But two strong arms do.
“No! Let go of me!”
“Lis, please. I’m begging you. Please. I can’t let you hurt yourself.”
“I’m not! I just—”
“I’m so sorry, Lis. I’m so, so sorry.” It’s the first time Lucas has said anything to me. He was quiet the entire car ride from Nevada, and he didn’t even acknowledge me when we arrived here. He disappeared before I could even get in the door.
He holds me tight, pressing his chest into my back, his arms stopping me from swinging again. I wriggle and fight him, trying to break his hold, but it’s no use. He’s stronger than me. He has an advantage because he hugs me from behind.
“Let me go! Don’t touch me,” I snap, stomping my heel into his foot.
He grunts and finally does what I ask, but I don’t think it’s willingly. I know I hurt him, because he is barefoot. Spinning, I face him and jab my finger to his chest. “Are you stalking me? What are you doing here?”
Lucas raises his hands in defeat and takes a step back out of my reach.
His hazel eyes shine with redness, but I can’t tell if it’s from exhaustion or grief.
Maybe both. Unlike his brothers, Lucas only resembles Henry faintly with his similar nose.
He looks like his mom, who I’ve only seen in framed pictures along with many others on a table in the living room.
The two of them have the same light brown hair and hazel eyes, full lips, and straighter brows.
“I’ve been here the whole time. I slept here.” He points to a large recliner in a sitting area with a pillow and blanket on it. “It is my duty to watch over them.”
I open and close my mouth, unsure of what to say. He saw everything. He heard everything. And no one should have seen me like that. I straighten my back, building steel walls around me to protect myself. I know I shouldn’t be ashamed, but crying is not a good look on me. Neither is grief.
And again, it turns into anger.
“You should have made it known you were in here,” I say, tightening my fingers into fists.
“You guys should have told me they were in here.” I don’t have to point to tell Lucas who I’m talking about.
We both already know. Their presences are still powerful even though they are not spiritually here any longer.
“I was asleep. It’s been a long night. I’m sorry. This was not how I wanted today to go. Didn’t Nolan tell you that we were having breakfast this morning to go over things?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know.” If Nolan did tell me, I wasn’t listening. There was nothing he could tell me last night that would make me change my mind about leaving my apartment in the Omega Resort.
He sighs and looks at his watch. “It doesn’t matter. Come on, Lis. Let’s go find Nolan and Jensen. It’s time we all had a talk. I don’t want something like this happening again.” He waves around the room, addressing the fact that I lost my shit, seeing our parents.
I want to argue and tell him to leave. I want to tell him that I need time.
But time is all I have right now.
And I do want answers. I want to know what they plan to do with me.
I want to know what happens now.