CHAPTER SIXTEEN

For what seems like ten minutes, I space out.

Lying still like a statue, I look at the body of Hendrix from afar, still in the same state as I left him.

I feel nauseous, as bile... whatever the heck it is, well up in my throat, forcing me to gag. I breathe in through my mouth, trying to stabilize myself.

'Oh no, Natalie. What have you done? Please save him.' My wolf cries.

I try to block out her voice, knowing the much damage it's causing me.

Slowly, I get off the grave, my knees wobbly. Struggling with each step, I walk to where he lies, a few feet away from him. My eyes scan all over his body for the rise and fall of his chest... just anything encouraging, to keep my soul at ease... but there's none.

"Hendrix..." I whisper and swallow saliva that's like a hard nut. "Hendrix... If this is a stunt, please stop." My voice is shaky. "I know you're trying to scare me, and I'm glad to announce that it's working magic. Now, please get up."

He remains mute.

"Look, I've stopped digging. ." My breath is shaky. "You don't have to be pissed, I'm not anymore..." I start sobbing. "Hendrix..."

I crumble on my knees, my legs too weak to hold my weight anymore. I stretch my shaky hands to touch him, but I pause, and then retract, scared to find out the truth.

"Drix... Honey." Tears flow freely down my cheeks, soaking my dress. "We don't have to fight anymore, as you can see I've stopped digging, I will respect your late papa's body... privacy, you name it." I suck in cold air. "That's what you want right?"

He remains mute and motionless. I look at his stiff frame, still unable to touch him.

"Please, say something, anything at all." I plead.

Like he cares less about my emotions and fear, he doesn't move. His fine scent of lavender and spice grows faint, as though it's vanishing with every passing minute.

Realization begins to set in, one that's too heavy a burden to bear.

"No..." I murmur, clutching my chest.

I look from the disturbed grave to his body, and back to the grave. That, I repeat for a thousand times.

 A wave of panic attack hits me, and without warning, I find myself rising up and taking to my heels, away from my reality, from his haunting figure, and from my head.

My heart beats furiously as though it would burst, alongside my vessels. Perspiration flushes my suddenly pale skin, and my primal instinct is now in full, as my claws retract, leaving me to face the consequences of my decision... one it helped me with.

"Natalie, please..." His voice echoes in my head, and everything seems blurry.

I bring myself to a forced halt, breathing heavily and finding solace in my choice to flee.

'He's alright, right?' I question my wolf, now seeking her more than ever.

She doesn't respond.

I get crazier. She can't give me the cold treatment after what Hendrix did. I'm yet to recover from his silence, she can't make it worse.

'Please.' I cry. 'His scent was still there, though faint, but still there, right?' I snort. 'If he were truly dead, he wouldn't have had any scent right?'

'He's not a wolf, I can't tell.' She replies coldly.

I wouldn't say I don't deserve it, she clearly warned me and tried to put a constraint on my outburst, but I let anger eat me deeply. More than anything, I'm glad she's responding to me at least.

My heart drops.

Starting to drag my feet, I begin walking, unsure if to go towards the pack house or to his aid. But then I choose the pack house, escaping farther from my creepy reality like a plague. It would hurt less to live in denial.

'How dare you leave him without help? What if he's just one step closer to surviving? What if your crazy lover comes for him?' My wolf scolds.

Petty, but well deserved. Dante is now my crazy lover.

Never has she spoken to me with this bitter and angry tone, I guess I also deserve it. Heeding her advice, and not wanting to add any more regret to my plate, I swiftly turn and head to his house, racing like a prey.

When I arrive at his compound, he's still in the same spot as I left him. Unable to hold back the emotions, I burst into tears. I have no healing affinity, or resurrection, or idea of the right herbs to help him or anything dire for this moment.

Basically, I'm useless to him.

Reaching down, I struggle with his weight, as I drag him back inside.

Faintly, I hear his heartbeat... Very faint, but there.

Elated, I rest him on his bed and wrap a cloth around his chest tightly, arresting the bleeding. I rush out and pour a generous amount of herb from the pot that he was brewing earlier into a cup, unsure what it's for, but it surely can't be poison.

Racing back in, I confirm it's cold enough to take in, verified, I open his mouth and empty the cup in it, as it pours on his chest, with him being unable to swallow... dumb, right? I know. But what would you have a confused lady do?

Confused about the next step to take, I run out yet again, determined to elude this nightmare forever. I head for the pack house, avoiding gazes and greetings and anything cordial.

When I arrive, the servants were sure to get off my radar, seeing how devastated I look. Each step I take is like a burden, as though the weight of my misfortune grows. Slowly, I go towards my private chamber, dragging my feet along.

Sasha, one to always try and comfort me just steps aside and watches, unsure of what to do. I must look terrible and beyond redemption.

"My lady, should I get you food... How about I run you a bath?"

I shoot her a fierce glare and walk past her and into my room.

"Argh!" I scream, tossing anything I lay my hands on away, not caring about the damage it incurs from the impact.

"My lady..."

"Get the fuck off my door, Sasha." I warn, trying so much to put myself in check and avoid regretting twice in a row.

Obeying, she leaves.

I crumble on my knees and weep profusely.

"Damn you." I look at my claws. "Damn you!"

Hendrix has always been right, I find it safer to blame anything and anyone but myself. Here I am, blaming a part of me, like I never used it, or like it possessed me.

Shit!

I elongate my claws, and bring them to my face, before I start scratching the concrete floor of my room aggressively, hurting myself at will.

"Argh!" I lament and sob. "What have I done?"

My hands hurt, and I see red fluid drop on the floor... my blood. I'm inflicting injury on myself, the same way I did my mate, perhaps it would hurt less.

There's a knock on the door, not a soft one.

I turn towards it, my eyes now crimson red, and my fur erupting from my skin to the surface. I growl, low and dangerous.

"Lady Natalie."

"Get your ass off the door, or live with the regrets!" I threaten, only that I'm serious, as though my wolf has possessed me, angry at me for hurting her mate. She would hurt anyone and anything just to get her piece.

"Lady Natalie." The voice calls again.

I stand up, ready to launch at whoever it is.

"Your days are up. What's your decision?" A voice I recognize as Beta Xavier sounds.

I freeze.

But, it's barely two days... or did I lose count?

"If you have none, we will gladly take the human boy. So, which is it?" He pauses. "Oops, pardon me, you still have roughly about an hour. I will be back." He mocks.