CHAPTER ONE

𝐓he silence was almost static. It was a type of silence that caused your ears to ring, blood pumping faster and eyes widening in a panic that you couldn't control. Elowen bit her lip as she sat in the hospital waiting room, the twenty seven year old keeping a hand on her mother's shoulder.

Caroline was shaking, shoulders rattling and hands covering her face. The younger brunette kept her mouth shut, ignoring the glares and upturned noses she got from the werewolves. The Alpha of her pack stood across from the two women, blood covering his white shirt and his hands clasped behind his head as he walked in circles.

When her mother had gotten the call, it was a moment Elowen would never forget. She shut her eyes at the memory of her mom's gut wrenching yell - a sound a mix of both a scream and a sob.

"I'm so sorry Caroline. If I had gotten there sooner - If I was faster-"

"It wasn't your fault Weylyn." The older woman looked up at the Alpha, tears still trickling down her face. "None of this was your fault. It was Sanguis Lunam, they are the ones to blame."

"Dad's strong, mom." Elowen spoke up, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze. "He-"

"Ella, your father lost a lot of blood." Weylyn interrupted her, placing his hand on her own shoulder and crouching in front of her. "Don't get your hopes up."

She wanted to yell at him, slap his hand away and tell him that he was wrong. That her father would be fine, that he would survive getting attacked and beaten by a gang of rogues. But she knew he was right, her father's injuries were severe - it would take a miracle from the goddess in order for him to recover.

So she just looked away, lips pressed into a tight line.

Elowen knew better than to make a scene, or even raise her voice at an alpha - her species be damned. She was used to the dirty looks by now. The silent snarls and judging sneers that were casted at her anytime she traveled outside her pack's community walls.

No one in the pack dared to glare at her, much less growl at her - a result of her father's position in the pack.

"Ella, would you go check on your grandpa please? You need to get some air, baby." Her mother nudged her shoulder and the younger brunette understood her mother's request for some time alone. So with a sad smile and little protest she kissed her mother's cheek and bowed her head to Weylyn before making her way out of the hospital.

The human trecked her way to the car before starting the drive home. During this time her hands clenched around the steering wheel and her teeth dug into her bottom lip; her worry bubbling up inside of her the further she got from the large medical building.

'He'll be fine.' She tried to reassure herself. 'He's gotta be, right?' But, for some reason she wasn't so sure anymore.

The hopeless look in her mother's eyes, and slight fall of her shoulders told her what she dreaded to hear. However, Elowen refused to believe it, to even think of that ever happening. Her father would be alright, he would heal and everything would go back to normal.

Killian James would be fine in a few days, he would be back in the house; dancing around the kitchen while shouting Nirvana at the top of his lungs. He would be able to throw her over his shoulder as he ran towards the lake behind their house.

He would be perfectly fine.

'Right?'

* * * * *

Elowen paused in front of the old wooden door, hand hesitating over the knob.

She could hear Johnny Cash playing in the room, the soft sound of a steel guitar echoing through and down the hallway.

"Don't just stand outside the door, Little Wolf." Her grandfather's frail voice scolded from inside the room. "Get in here."

The brunette shook her head with a small smile gracing her plump lips. 'He knows everything doesn't he?' The thought echoed through her mind as she opened the door and entered the western styled space.

Posters of John Wayne movies and silhouette portraits of horses on the great plains hung from the wall. Book shelves lined the left side of the room, while a bed rested in the back corner. A radio sat on a table that was beside an old recliner - a seat where her grandfather was currently perched; his signature cigar placed between his thin lips.

"If mom caught you smoking she would have a fit." Elowen laughed as she moved to take a seat on the window bench. "You know it doesn't help."

"What your mother doesn't know won't kill her." Thomas countered sassily - taking the cigar into his fingers and tapping it on the rim of an ashtray. "Besides I'm old, I can do whatever I damn well please."

The human rolled her eyes fondly and let her eyes drift to the photo perched on one of the shelves. A younger version of herself sat on top of a beautiful pinto mare, a cheeky grin beaming on her face while Thomas kept a hand on the lead rope; looking up at his granddaughter with a smirk on his face.

Oh, how Elowen wished she could turn back the clock. She longed to go back to the days where she could be carefree and not have anything to worry about.

"How's your daddy doing?" Thomas's voice dragged her away from her thoughts. He got his answer when Elowen looked down, eyes blinking rapidly and teeth digging into her bottom lip. So with a raspy sigh he grabbed his granddaughter's hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "Look at me, Elowen."

Elowen obeyed, stormy irises staring into hazel. "In our world, in this life - people live and people die. It's just what happens. I've been alive for 178 years and have seen everything this world has had to offer - your daddy has been around for 75." He paused and brushed a lock of hair from Elowen's face, frowning when a broken whine left her lips. "When people die, all we can do is bury the dead and take care of the living."

"But it hurts, Papa." A sob mixed in with her words as she spoke, tears trickling down her face. "Goddess, it hurts."

Thomas gave her a sad smile and nodded in agreement. "I know, Little Wolf. This world be damned, but we can't do anything but pray at this point."

And so the duo sat there, staring out the window as the setting sun finally made its final descent behind the mountain. The moon slowly rose to light up the night sky while stars sparkled throughout the dark murky welkin.

"Sometimes I believe that every time a person passes, their soul is reincarnated into a star - forever burning under the watch of the goddess." Thomas smiled and Elowen chuckled, whipping away a few tears with a watery smile. "And I think that one there-" He pointed to the brightest star in the sky, one that resided next to the crescent moon, "-is your grandmother. She loved the stars, the moon, anything to do with astronomy really."

Elowen smiled as she listened to her grandfather talk about her grandmother. He rarely did it. When he did, it always made her feel warm inside. She enjoyed seeing the nostalgic smile resting on his face while his posture was more at ease; shoulders and body slumping in a relaxing way as if a great weight had been lifted from them.

"Hey, Papa?" The old man hummed and looked towards the human beside him. "Tell me a story?"

A smirk was all she got as an agreement.

So there she sat in front of her grandfather's chair - much like she did when she was younger - arms wrapped around her knees; tucking them into her chest.

She let her head lean against the cold wall, and her eyes slipped shut. Elowen could hear her grandfather's voice echo within the realms of her mind - letting the syllables and phrases lull her into a slumber just like they did when she was a little girl.

It only took five minutes of storytelling for the human to be asleep, curled up on the floor next to the old chair.

Thomas chuckled softly and grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the recliner. After he covered his granddaughter in the soft material, he leaned back in his chair - eyes solely focused on the brightest star in the sky.

"Cecilia, I need a miracle right now." The old man muttered, hand rubbing his neck. "Promise me you'll always watch over Elowen when I can't, Darlin'. I've got a bad feeling about what is yet to come."

* * * * *

Thomas was still awake when his daughter walked into the room, a dark cloud hanging above her head. He could see the redness in her eyes and the slight shake of her hands, and he sighed softly. 'We need a miracle Cecilia, please give us one soon.'

Both father and daughter looked down to the youngest brunette in the room, a sad gaze in their eyes.

'Bury the dead, take care of the living.' Thomas thought bitterly.