Not Just A Luna; I Am Alpha!

Xander

“Where is her body?” Chassy asked, and she went back as soon as she heard the news. She was very worried for Ethan and wanted to be with him when I told him about his mother.

“In the hospital, I let Limuel handle it,” I replied. I know that I should be the one who looks into everything, but I don’t have the strength to think about my son. Being a father is new to me, and all I could do right now was protect my son from every harm.

She nodded her head and asked again, “How about Ethan?”

“Training,” I replied. I know that this should be between me and my son, and I shouldn’t let her deal with it. But I don’t know how I am going to tell my son about what happened to his mother. How would I be able to tell him that his mother was found dead on the pack border when he had talked to me and told me how worried he was? “I know that you have your duties in the Silver Moon Pack, and I am sorry that I had to call you back here to tell Ethan about his mother.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” she said, stopping me from saying everything that I still wanted to say sorry for inconveniencing her. “I am also the Luna here, and I must support you. Ethan is also a son to me, and you know that for a short time, we managed to get along well. His safety and security are also my priorities.”

I nodded and said, “I am going to call him here.” Chassy smiled in agreement.

The air in the room felt heavy with grief as Chassy took a deep breath, summoning the strength to deliver the heart-wrenching news to my son while I stood nearby as my eyes reflected a mixture of sorrow and helplessness. The weight of Sena’s death hung in the air, and the room seemed to close in with the burden of the devastating truth.

Chassy crouched down to be at eye level with Ethan, whose young face still held the innocence of a child untouched by the harsh realities of life. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch conveying both warmth and a shared sorrow. “Ethan,” she began softly, “there’s something I need to tell you about your mom.”

Ethan’s eyes, so much like his mother’s, widened in anticipation. Chassy felt her heartache at the innocence that was about to be shattered. “Your mom… she was attacked by vampires,” she continued, her voice steady but laden with the weight of the words she had to speak.

A shadow of confusion crossed Ethan’s face, and then realization slowly dawned. “Attacked by vampires?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to give voice to the nightmare unfolding before him. Chassy nodded, her eyes mirroring the pain in Ethan’s.

“I’m so sorry, Ethan. We found her on the outskirts, pinned to a tree. The vampires… they took her from us,” she explained gently, choosing her words with care, aware of the fragility of the young heart before her.

My son’s eyes welled up with tears, and he shook his head in disbelief. “No… no, that can’t be true. Mom can’t be gone,” he whispered, his voice breaking. Chassy pulled him into a tender embrace, letting him bury his face in her shoulder. The sobs that racked his not-so-big frame echoed through the room, a symphony of grief and loss. I was just standing at a distance, feeling a lump form my throat, watching my son grapple with the harsh reality tearing at my soul.

Ethan’s tears dampened Chassy’s shoulder as he clung to her, seeking solace in the midst of the storm of emotions. “It’s not fair, Mommy C. Mom was strong. She was supposed to be safe,” he mumbled through his tears.

Chassy, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears, whispered words of comfort to the grieving boy. “I know, Ethan. Life is sometimes very unfair. Your mom was incredibly strong, but sometimes even the strongest fall victim to the darkness around us.”

As Ethan’s sobs subsided into quiet sniffles, Chassy gently pulled away, cupping his face in her hands. “You’re not alone, Ethan. Your mom loved you more than anything, and we’re here for you. Your pain is our pain, and we’ll get through this together.”

I was unable to bear the scene unfolding before me, so I approached slowly. I crouched down beside Chassy and Ethan, my heart breaking for my son, who had lost his mother. “Ethan,” I began with a gentle voice, “I wish I could take away your pain. I know that Sena is not like any mother in the world, but she decided to have you even without me by her side. She’ll always be a part of you.”

Ethan looked up at me with tear-stained eyes, his pain reflected in the depths of his gaze. “Dad, it hurts so much. I can’t believe she’s gone,” he whispered, his voice quivering. I wrapped my arms around both Chassy and Ethan, creating a cocoon of support in the face of grief. “I know, son. I know,” I murmured, my voice choked with emotion.

Together, we sat in the quiet room, embracing the shared sorrow that hung in the air. The loss of Sena, a mother to my son, cast a profound shadow over his life. In the silence, broken only by the soft sounds of sniffles, we found solace in each other’s presence, a fragile thread of strength woven through the fabric of grief.

As the night wore on, Chassy, Ethan, and I navigated the difficult path of mourning. My son shared stories of Sena, laughed through tears at the memories, and clung to the love that would endure even in her absence. My office became a sanctuary for our collective grief, a space where the echoes of Sena’s spirit lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the profound impact she had even on my son’s life.

The following day, we were ready to send off Sena. The somber procession moved slowly through the heart of the Red Moon Pack territory, a silent tribute to the mother of my son. Ethan is her only family now, so we decided to let her stay here. A pack of powerful wolves was pulling a makeshift bier, with Sena’s remains resting atop it in a bed of flowers. The air was heavy with grief, and the mournful atmosphere of the pack was felt through the forest, a melancholic symphony that spoke of loss and remembrance.

Pack members, their heads bowed, lined the path, forming a corridor of sorrow. Some carried bouquets of wildflowers, a humble offering to accompany Sena on her final journey. Others held candles. It was a solemn affair, a collective farewell to a beloved member of the pack. Even if she wasn’t.

Chassy, Ethan, and I walked side by side, our steps measured and heavy with the weight of grief. Chassy led the procession, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sorrow and determination. As they both struggled to deal with the void Sena’s departure had left, I put my arm around Ethan and offered him some silent support.

The procession reached a clearing bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. A makeshift pyre had been prepared, surrounded by stones adorned with flowers. The air was thick with the scent of pine and the earthy aroma of the forest, creating a sacred atmosphere for the solemn ritual. Chassy stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the pyre, and began to speak words of remembrance. “Sena was a beacon of strength and warmth to her son, Ethan, our Alpha’s son. Today, we say our final goodbyes, but her spirit will forever live on in our hearts.”

As Chassy spoke, pack members approached the pyre, placing their offerings. The crackling flames of the pyre seemed to dance in response to the collective energy of the pack, creating a poignant tableau of farewell.

Ethan, his eyes red from tears, stepped forward with a small drawing in hand-a sketch he had made of his mother and him. He gently placed it on the pyre, a personal tribute to the woman who had nurtured and loved him. With a stoic exterior betraying the turmoil within, I added her favorite flower-a symbol of the time Sena and I had shared.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Chassy approached the pyre last. She placed a single white lily on the flames, a symbol of purity and peace, so Sena would go straight to their moon goddess. As the lily turned to ash, the flames leaped higher, carrying Sena’s essence toward Selena’s realm.

The pack, standing in a circle around the pyre, began to sing a mournful melody-a haunting tribute that echoed through the night. The song spoke of loss but also of the resilience of the pack, bound together by the threads of shared sorrow and the enduring strength of unity.

As the last notes of the song lingered in the air, the flames of the pyre began to subside. The pack bowed our heads in a final moment of silent communion, honoring the memory of Sena. In that sacred clearing, surrounded by the embrace of the forest, we found solace in the shared ritual of saying goodbye to Sena.