Sapphire Bones

Drown

Updated: April 22, 2019

Corvo

The dust cloud from Ryan's grand escape from Emerald house finally settled to the ground. My mother, on her knees in the middle of the driveway, sobbed up into the sky. The robe wrapped around her body was pulled tighter to her with each passing moment, and her cries only heightened in pitch the longer we left her alone out there. Damien moved first. He made his way off the porch and onto the driveway with gentle steps as to not spook her from behind. As he traveled Ethel clutched onto my arm as if we were watching the end of our mother's life. Which, in truth, we were. The heaviness from inside the front parlor moved outside with us. It weighed on my shoulders like bricks packed on top of each other, slowly cracking into the bones.

"Mom," he mumbled as he approached. "Mom it's OK," he soothed but our mother didn't move. "He'll come back."

My mother whipped her head around to face him. Blackened mascara rivers graced her cheeks and chin. Against her ivory skin, the black vines looked like thick oil that originated from the edges of her eyes. They branched out with baby hairs on her cheeks. "No he's not!" She yelled and got to her feet. She stumbled back toward the house but Damien caught her wrist before she got more than a couple feet away. He pulled her back into his arms, wrapping her up into a tight embrace. She sobbed into his shoulder, her body lurching with each cry. Eventually, her arms snaked around him. Our mother's knees wobbled, and her feet shuffled on the stones. Damien squeezed, his grip on her adjusting as her energy drained.

"Do you think he'll come back?" Ethel asked me with a quiet voice. I glanced her way. Ethel stared up at me, hope in her eyes that maybe I'd have an answer that would satisfy her at the moment but in all honesty, I had no idea. Ryan's reaction could've gone worse. He could've pulled a weapon on all of us and threatened our lives but instead, he ran from us. But then there were better scenarios. Without mass, public knowledge of our existence, humans were left exposed to these kinds of reactions. The kind of eye-opening experience Ryan had, not ten minutes ago, wasn't ideal. If the Lycan's had it their way our species would be known throughout the world but the human government had their fears and hesitations toward allowing the public in on one of the best-kept secrets in human history. Besides a select few humans, there weren't many others who knew.

"I hope so," I muttered back. "If not we're going to have a much bigger problem on our hands." Ethel gave my arm a tight squeeze with her much smaller hand. I let my gaze wander to where her nails dug into the skin on my bicep. She gripped like a python on prey. The color drained from my forearms; I didn't dare rip from her grasp. Ethel needed a crutch as she watched Penelope fall into the last phase of her life, one that, without Ryan, she couldn't survive.

Damien and our mother parted after a minute and made their way back toward the house. He kept a firm grip on her arm while they walked, careful not to let her fall as she stumbled across the driveway. Rejection, whether verbal or physical, could kill a werewolf if damaging enough. We were thankful our mother and father's divorce and eventual rejection was mutual but Ryan's rejection hit much harder. A seemingly perfect relationship with one large pitfall they were inevitably going to fall into. Ryan's humanness cast difficulties on their relationship and now that he'd rejected Penelope for what she was, our mother was left with no more chances to win over a mate. After two, Lycan's were deemed undesirable.

Before Penelope could shove past me I held her back with a step in front of her. She turned her gaze up to me and what used to be two brightly lit eyeballs were dull and lifeless. Her teeth chattered inside her mouth, and her lips trembled as she forced them shut. As much as I wanted to take her into an embrace, and tell her things happen for a reason, and that Ryan was sure to return, my Alpha duties forced me to remain apathetic. I had time to mourn with her later, but for now, I had a responsibility to the Lycan community.