Chapter 4
Chapter 4
"
She lifted a shaking hand and touched my face. Then it fell.
I sat there, blank, staring at my mother's open eyes.
All my life she had said I was naive.
"Elara, you gave him everything you had. If he ever turns on you, what will you have left?"
I had believed he never would.
He had once knelt in front of my mother and swore he would never betray me.
I stared at nothing. I slowly stood up.
Then I turned and threw myself at the blade in the nearest guard's hands.
Blood.
Everything went dark.
In the last second before I lost consciousness, I heard a voice scream.
Cain woke up cold.
The fire in the tent had gone out at some point. The chill had gotten into his bones.
He reached out on instinct to the other side of the bed.
Before, Elara would have been up already — fire restoked, clothes pressed and laid out on the rack.
But today it was Clara next to him.
She was curled up under the blanket, hand still clutching the edge of his shirt.
Cain looked at her. Something sat heavy in his chest.
Three days. Elara hadn't sent word through the guards. No crying, no questions, no red-eyed visits.
Just silence.
He pulled his arm free. Clara stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes.
"Cain. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Pack business. I'll be a few minutes."
He found a reason and got up, threw on his coat, and stepped outside.
He walked toward the tent where Elara and her mother had been staying.
The guards at the entrance were gone.
He pushed through the flap fast. The tent was empty.
Cain's heart skipped.
"Soldiers."
A man ran over.
"Where is the Whitmore Pack's daughter?"
The soldiers looked at each other.
"General. Didn't you send the order? She was told to return home to recover and arrange her mother's burial. She left at dawn."
"Elara was injured? Tell me exactly what happened."
"Helen Whitmore passed in the night. Elara — she tried to take her own life. Garrett managed to stop her in time. He carried Helen's body out with her and went to bury her beyond the city walls. They haven't come back."
Cain's mouth fell open. He couldn't speak.
His legs went soft. He grabbed the tent pole to hold himself up.
His mind kept showing him what had happened.
Elara on the floor, holding her mother and crying.
And him. Walking away. Not looking back. Going to cool Clara's forehead and make her eat soup. Talking to her until she stopped shaking.
While Elara sat alone in that tent and watched her mother die.
Clara's footsteps came from behind him.
She walked up beside him and saw the empty tent and the look on his face.
"Where did Sister go?"
Cain didn't answer.
Clara put her arms around him from behind.
"Cain. I've made up my mind. Take me away. You said you would. I'm done hiding."
Cain didn't respond.
He stared at the empty tent and spoke in a rough voice.
"Clara. Do you know your mother is dead because of you?"
The arms around him went rigid.
Clara let go. All the color left her face.
"Cain. Mother's dead? You're lying. Please tell me you're lying."
Cain turned and looked at her.
That look stopped everything she was about to say.
"Go."
"Cain, I—"
"I said go."
Clara stood there. Her lips shook.
"You regret it, don't you? You never planned on staying with me. I was just something new."
"Yes. Something new."
Cain cut her off, voice flat.
"That night you came to find me, I was on the front line, didn't know if I'd make it home. Someone showed up, and I was weak. That's all it was."
"But she's not you."
He said the last few words without direction, as if he didn't know himself who he was saying them for.
Then he turned and mounted his horse.
Clara didn't chase him.
She stood in the wind and snow and watched him ride away.
Cain rode out of camp and went straight to the edge of the city.
He asked at three places before he found a lone grave.
There was wine and a small cake on the stone. Helen's favorites.
Cain dropped to his knees. His knees hit the frozen ground.
"Ma'am."
He opened his mouth. His voice came out rough.
He couldn't say anything else.
What was there to say? That when Elara was screaming for help, he was pressing a cold cloth to Clara's forehead. That when Helen took her last breath, he was coaxing Clara to drink soup. That every oath he had knelt in front of this woman to give was now a joke.
He knelt until the sky went dark and came light again. No feeling left in his knees.
After a long time he pulled himself up and went to the Whitmore Pack house in the city.
He pushed the door open. The place was in ruins. Only Old Owen was there, sweeping.
Owen looked up. His eyes were full of hate.
"What does the Alpha want here? The young miss is gone."
"Where did she go?"
Owen let out a short laugh.
"She left the night after the burial. Could barely walk straight."
"She said she never wanted to see you again in her life.