The Third Wheel BxB (Old + new versions)

Chapter 9: Ghosts of the Past - Part 2

A/N: So, just thought I would clarify because the classification of Alpha/Beta/Omega & DomxSub is a bit different here from most stories.

Alpha/Beta/Omega: social roles in accordance with the position in the pack. There's only one Alpha or leader of the pack (here, it's Darren). The Betas are usually warriors, while the Omegas don't fight and take care of the rest of the packs. They are more like healers/teachers and so on. These roles can change depending on the werewolf's preferences and abilities.

Dominants and Submissives: These are more like secondary genders and are not chosen. Most werewolves don't classify in either of these categories. It's in a Dom's instinct to protect and to give commands others, in particularly their mates. They tend to be stronger and bigger than most, but it's not an absolute rule. Submissives, on the contrary, are driven by the need to obey and to seek safety from their loved ones. They tend to be weaker and smaller but again, it's not an absolute rule. Secondary genders have nothing to do with social positions.

If you still have questions, please ask ;) Okay, on with the story.

"I have lived alone, I have fought alone, I have dealt with the pain alone. I will die alone" (James Frey, A Million Little Pieces)

KYLE'S POV

"I'm sorry, mum."

Some people might have found it weird, but the cemetery represented a safe place of some sort for Kyle. 

The Deads weren't judgmental like the Livings were. There was a good 80% of chances to be alone in cemeteries, especially those built in the deep ends of the woods. And if someone else was here too, at least they wouldn't bother you. They would leave you be. 

A cemetery wasn't a place for social mundanities, fights, businesses, all sort of things his pairs deemed important, essential even, when they really weren't, not in Kyle's eyes anyway. 

It was a place for grieving, remembering and reflecting. In cemeteries, you could not pretend to forget that you were promised to Death. At the same time, you were reminded that you were still alive, while those resting under the stones were not.

In this regard, cemeteries were reminders of the blessing of being alive.

Well, some days being alive didn't feel like much of a blessing, but Kyle was doing his best to carry on through hard times. 

He might had an unhealthy way to cope, but it was his way of coping. You don't tell survivors how they are suppose to survive. So, until he found a better way, that is how he would keep handling things.

"I know I haven't come here for a long time. My mind has been a mess recently. Something important happened. Something that could change everything." Kyle babbled.

He inhaled deeply, looking around him while his hand was laying on the cold stone. 

He didn't look specifically at the ground, nor did he look at the sky. His mother was not to be found in either of these places. 

She was everywhere. In the wind, in the grass, in the songs of cicadas. That's what she had taught him on her deathbed. 

Don't cry, little one. You will never be truly alone, I promise. You will always be able to talk to me in hard and merry times. I will be there for you.

"I have found I have two mates. You already know them. Despite everything that has happened between us, I think they are great men."

His mother was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, but it was in quiet places like cemeteries that Kyle could hear the best her attentive silence.