My light

1860 Words
CORBIN'S POV -- There is no forgetting Azalea Morvain. She is the Moon that lights up the sky, and ever since she walked into that Academy with her hair flowing over shoulders, glowing magically, I knew that I would never be able to forget her. Azalea Morvain is the light that shines brightly in my life, and it's been so dark for so many years, years of silence and steady beats of my heart. There was not a thrill, but the darkest one emerged as I read the letter of Alpha Darcus' death, because I knew, I knew that I'd see her again. What I didn't know was that everything would fall into place right before my eyes at the funeral, and damn it felt like an early Silver Solstice gift. "Where have you been?" Dustin's voice carries over the porch of my home as I stride up the stairs. He sits bent forward, elbows resting on his knees, smoke falling from his lips in rings. "Funeral," My lips curve into a tight grin, unable to hide the joy blooming in my chest. Dustin's green eyes widen, his brown hair brushed back with his fingers, looking messy like he had just gotten out of bed. He sits upright, eyes glinting, "Not to be a know it all, but shouldn't you look more sad than whatever the hell is going on there," He flicks his hand around, pointing his cigarette at me and my joyful glow. I don't think I've even been sad before, pissed off? For sure, but not f*****g sad. "I'll be sad when my parents die someday," My shoulder lifts into a careless shrug, which has Dustin snorting, his head tilting back as it rolls. "You'd be dead inside if you aren't." He murmurs, taking another drag, the end of it glowing bright red. He sits back on the swinging bench, stretching his arm over the back end of it as he crosses his ankle over his knee. "What's her name?" He grins, his chest expanding as he inhales the smoke to his lungs, letting it out in another wave of circles. "Sometimes I think you smoke to just play with it," I snort, reaching the plastic armchair with black cushions, and sit down across from him. Dustin's smirk grows, "You're changing the subject," He studies me with a curious gaze before dropping his leg, his elbows meeting his knees as he leans forward. I visibly straighten, an uncomfortable wave of tension pulsing through me as his hawk eyes stare right through me. Goddess, I hate it when he does that. "Is it serious?" A follow up question I would rather not answer, and as Alpha, I sure as hell don't need to. "I have no idea what you're talking about," I huff, crossing one ankle over my knee as I sink into the soft plush beneath me. The sun shines onto the porch, catching the top of my head. A dark, bitter-taunting laugh echoes from across me, "Goddess have mercy," He breathes, the stench of his smoke infiltrating my nostrils. "It was a damn funeral, Dustin. It wasn't a hunting ritual." I snap, eyes meeting his jolly gaze. Dustin is my best friend, but even some things I don't talk about and the first and only thing I haven't shared with him, is Azalea. "Protective too? You're fucked." He laughs, standing. His hair stands in every direction, his taunting gaze boring into me and it's as hot as a flame licking at my skin. He has this incredible way of breaking people for information, but I've learned all of his tricks to avoid it. He's a professional huntsman, the man of many you call if you need to sort something out. "Your little tricks don't work on me," I sigh, enjoying the warmth of the sun baking atop my head that's spreading down to my chest as the image of the woman I could never escape, mentally. "I would never try to trick you," Dustin's overexagerrated tone has my eyes rolling to the back of my head before they flutter shut. "But as your best friend--" Dustin clears his throat, and I mentally twitch at the sound of steel ticking against wood as he taps his finger against the swing, "--I demand to know." He finishes, and I don't need to even look to know that he's smirking. He thinks he won, but the player is about to get played. "I met the new Alpha of the Storm Blazer's pack." I shrug, and the silence tries to lure a laugh from the deepest pit in my chest. "Are you about to tell me you'll be screaming for another male?" The disturbed edge in his tone has my head lifting, and falling back against the hard edge of the chair again as I burst out in a fit of laughter. No one really knows that Azalea is the Storm Blazers' heir, because only a certain amount of Alpha's are from around here, and Azalea and I were the eldest of us who joined the Academy. "The male--" I tease, "-- is Azalea Morvain, and she can kick your ass." I lift my head before sitting up, and the priceless look of horror on Dustin's face is what has me squealing on the inside. "But how...what?" His face scrunches up, creases forming between his brows, "Who would her Luna be?" He shakes his head as the information tears him apart from the inside. "She doesn't need one," The truth is, she doesn't even need me. All I can hope for is that she'd want me. "Then why the hell would she choose you?" his head tilts sideways, his lips twitching up into a silent snarl. "Meaning?" The edge in my tone makes him readjust his position, and he leans forward, ignoring my warning like it wasn't even there. Dustin surveys me like I'm a mystical animal that hasn't been discovered before, "You're ugly as hell," he deadpans, a grin curving the edge of his lips. My eyes narrow on him as I raise to my feet, flattening my blazer jacket, "Don't mistake me for your reflection, I know you get confused." I retort. Dustin stands too, flicking his cigarette onto the dirt, "Any work for me today?" He asks, and my feet falter. I turn around, "Did you not do as I asked this morning?", "Of course I f*****g did, dimwit. I'm asking if there's anything else?" My bones vibrate with annoyance. "I really hope you fall in a cactus one day and it takes at least three days to pluck out every damn thorn." I turn, pushing open the front door that's made out of glass. "Who would run things while you're out at funerals?" He taunts, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I'm never going to hear the end of this one. "I'd rather not go to another funeral. You know I hate them." It's a dark, gloomy vibe that sets me off for days. I was sixteen when I attended my grandmother's funeral, and the silent tears and tension locked in everyone's bones still haunt me to this day. It was uncomfortable as hell, and I never went to another one again, until today. "Get over it, it was so long ago," Dustin groans, and I don't have to look to know that he's rolling his eyes. He has every right to roll those green eyes of his, because he sat there, listening to me whine about to stupidity of a funeral for a week straight. "I am over it," I shrug. I think today's funeral really changed my perspective of it all. It was like watching a reality show instead of witnessing the solemn tears and feel everyone's emotions weigh down on me. "I just knew there was someone special," Dustin sighs, relieved. "And do tell how you just knew that?" I c**k a brow as I turn, staring straight at him. I unbutton the blazer, flicking it to the sides as my hands slide into my trouser pockets. "Because you hate funerals." He grins, winking knowingly as he struts toward the back door. I remain silent, my eyes staring at the glass door, and I can't help but picture Azalea's face as she walks in and sees it. Her father's manor is cold, old and gray, but I rebuilt my parents' home the second they said they'd be leaving to retire on an island without many people. They had no desire to come back here and live in the pack, and to be frank, it's better that way. I don't want to have my father leaning over my shoulder with every decision I have to make, and it would have started an internal war if he did that, which he definitely would have. I slip the jacket off as I turn and head upstairs. Undoing the first few buttons of the white shirt that was crisp before I played with little Lyra, I sink into the dark brown leather armchair near the window, putting my feet up on the sill. I slip my phone out of my pocket, and open my contact list, scrolling to the bottom. My finger hovers over the name 'Tigerlilly'. What if she doesn't have the same number after all these years? Dustin could get the new one if I really need it, but do I really want to involve him in this? I hit the call button, hoping and praying that this is still her number, and when the ringing starts, I press the phone to my ear. "Hello?" Azalea's voice is an immediate relief and my shoulders sag. I remain wordless, and just clear my throat. "Corbin?" There isn't an uncertainty in her voice, but also a blazing annoyance. "So you do have my number?" I grin, remaining calm even though an entire forest just came alive inside of me. The silence causes my grin to stretch into a wider smile, "I have the same phone since back then, so why wouldn't I have your number?" The same phone? She's either broke, or she takes really good care of her things. "We've disclosed that you don't like me very much, so I thought you'd get rid of it." I tease. The silence could slice through the moon, "I don't not like you," She murmurs softly, the sound of papers fumbling echoing in the background. "So you do like me?" I don't know why I have to pull the soul out of her body, but I can't help it. "No, not like that." She sneers, sounding upset. I shrug even though she can't see me, but just as the comfort of our bickering brings me to a high, the soft whining of a kid makes my heart shudder. "Lyra okay?" An immediate question that blows my nonchalant cover. "She just woke up, I have to go." She speaks quickly, quietly and angrily before ending the call, like she didn't want to speak to me at all. I slowly bring the phone down, staring at the screen as it flashes her name once before disappearing completely.
Free reading for new users
Scan code to download app
Facebookexpand_more
  • author-avatar
    Writer
  • chap_listContents
  • likeADD