Chapter three

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A perfect rose. It stands up straight on its stem, its petals sprawl out magnificently. The red is crimson, a sign of love. A pink rose. Pink signifies love as well as romance and friendship. All things I've lost.

Oh how I hate roses. They decorate the wooden coffin before me. The said it was to be a closed-casket funeral. Because he was so mangled.

How could somebody kill so relentlessly? I let out a shaky breath as I place a cold hand on the box. Inside it is my heart. It died with him. My body is soulless now. I'm sure I will never recover from the pain.

Amber grabs my other hand, intwining our fingers. She gives my hand a squeeze. Tears fill my eyes once again. They haven't let me from their grasp for days.

Soft rain patters on my umbrella. At least every person here is a part of The Guard. They are all here to mourn their fallen leader. Aiden was the strongest member of The Guard. He was the head. The first person even our alpha calls to.

I look behind me and lay my eyes on him. The alpha. He graced our funeral with his presence. Only if he actually cared. To him it's just a fallen body guard.

The casket is lowered into the freshly dug ground. I want to die. I want to climb into the coffin and be buried with him. I don't want life without him. Sobs escape my lips as Amber hugs me tightly.

People slowly leave the service as I stand there. Eventually even Amber leaves me, walking inside where there is food and warmth. I stand there. Staring at the soil, my mate beneath the dirt.

Tears no longer fall from my eyes as I stand there drained. There is no moving on from this. What now? I am a widow.

"Heidi." I hear a deep voice behind me. It holds much power. I turn around to see my Alpha, Lance.

I raise my head to meet his eyes. They're an icy blue, reminding me of... him.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Aiden was a great warrior." He says lowly, his eyes looking sympathetic.

"Yes he was." I stare back at the dirt. I know what is coming next.

A promotion.

"With you as second in command, and your history." He steps closer to me. His eyes are now serious.

"I want you to take his position as head of my Guard." His eyes lock with mine.

Usually I would burst with joy. This is everything I've ever trained for. Dreamed for. I could run the highest military in the Pioneer Pack.

"Not interested." My stone cold words bleed from my mouth.

"I understand the circumstances. I know you have lost your mate." He walks a small circle around me, his arms crossed behind his back.

"But we need somebody to take care of .. Zane" his words hit me in the face.

Zane. The man responsible for the murder of my mate. Being head of The Guard would give me permission to do whatever I want. To hurt him in every way that I want. Interest fills my tone as I nod my head.

"Okay I will do it."

With that, Lance walks off. My head inflates with thoughts. It's time to get my Revenge.

~~~~~~

I never learned how to swim. Growing up all of my friends always dragged me out to the lake, but I never got in. The water, so dark and deep. You can never tell what's under the surface. The waves hide secrets from us as oceans whisk souls away to sea.

Not knowing how to swim can cause someone to drown. I feel like I'm drowning. A metaphorical drowning though. I feel as though I'm deep at sea and the waves of emotions just keep heaping over me, dragging me further below the surface.

The dark abyss grabs my feet and yanks me down. Tears my heart out and crushes it as I choke on the water. I am nothing.

A snip of scissors and my hair no longer falls to my waist. I look at the long strands of dark hair on the floor of our bathroom.

My bathroom now.

I drag my head back up to the mirror and look at my reflection. My hair is shorter now, coming to just above my rib cage.

A cliche, cutting your hair after a relationship ends in heartbreak. A way of moving on.

But I will never move on.

I like my hair this way. I glance at my face. My eyes are still puffy. I cry only once or twice a day now. It's been two weeks since he died.

My heart is still as heavy as two buckets of water being dragged across the dry dessert.

It's empty in the apartment without anybody around. All of his things still sit, untouched.

Sometimes it seems as if he's going to glide back into the room, sweaty from a day of work. His presence still remains.

I miss his touch. The sparks on my skin, the feeling of his lips on mine. Why were his hands so cold the last time we touched?

My happiness was stolen from me. I stare at my eyes in the mirror. They swirl with deep browns and whispers of green.

The wannabe alpha is going to pay. I will make him suffer in ways he never could have dreamed of.

I punch the mirror. The glass shatters on impact, some of the shards falling onto the floor and in the sink. I let out a low growl. My fist bleeds.

I have two more weeks before I return to work. Two more weeks to think of ways to inflict misery. Does he know he killed the head of the guard? Does he know I'm coming for him?

He will soon. And he won't be ready for what I have in store.

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