Brandon’s POV
I found an angel perched near the window, her gold-spun hair surrounding her like a halo of light.
The angel was small and her skin was the same shade as the moon. Light glimmered off her white nightgown as she stared down to look into her reflection. She was an ethereal beauty, a mystical aura about her.
I stepped towards her, curious to ask what she was doing here.
The angel turned her head, widening her big blue eyes when she met own.
I just stared at her, entranced.
The angel was Amy, my Amy.
“I must’ve done something really bad to deserve this.” I mumbled, cursing myself. “I have to admit, I’m selfishly happy, even if it means you haven’t found peace yet.”
She haunted me, ever since I met her. Always on my mind, always in my thoughts no matter how much I tried to erase her from my mind. She always seemed to come back.
“Either that or I’ve gone completely insane.” I didn’t care, as long as I got to see her again. I would walk a thousand miles just to see her face. If this were a dream, I didn’t want it to end.
The angel moved from her spot near the window and a scowl disgraced her pale face.
“I’m not dead, Brandon,” She spoke. Although her tone was harsh, her voice was still so soft and gentle. It reminded me of a pebble making ripples on the water’s surface. A quiet hush made to sing a lullaby.
“You are, I’m sorry,” I apologized, regretting everything I ever did to her. It was my fault she died in the first place. It was all my fault.
“I’m not dead! I’m alive and-” This was so her, always focusing on the bright side even when times were bleak.
“I watched you die.” I crossed my arms, slouching a little. I hadn’t slept at all last night. “And it’s my fault.”
“I-” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but she quickly shut her mouth and took a deep breath.
“Let me show you that I’m real,” She stepped towards me, touching my cheek with soft fingers. I leaned into her touch, reveling in the familiarity of her skin on mine.
Just this once, I would let myself go.
The angel wrapped her arms around my neck and brought her lips to mine. Her lips were soft yet fierce, a fire yearning deep down in her heart.
I indulged in the kiss, kissing her as if I would never let go. Her body was warm and her lips sent electric shocks into my body. I tugged her closer and she moaned in pleasure.
I broke the kiss, pushing her away.
“You must’ve been an angel sent from Hell.” I grinned without humor. I had to stop thinking this way, I had to stop believing that this was real. Or else I would break down and drown in my own tears.
She slapped me right across the face, her hand unforgiving.
It was then I realized she wasn’t an angel.
And this wasn’t a dream.
I blinked, but I was still awake and my heart was still pounding from our kiss. My cheek stung from the slap and I wanted to be angry, I wanted to show her that I was an Alpha.
But my rage dimmed and I was overcome by relief. By happiness.
“Amy? You’re. . . alive?” I asked hesitantly, terrified of the answer. She huffed in exasperation.
“Yes, I’m alive.” She said impatiently and I engulfed her into my arms. I needed to touch her.
“What the hell,” I cursed, stunned to see her breathing and her heart beating in my ears. “How are you alive? I saw the knife go straight through your body.”
Nothing made sense anymore. I didn’t know what was reality and what was a dream.
Replayed in my mind a thousand times was her death. The knife that went straight through her and the pain that stung in my heart when she fell to the ground.
What she felt, I felt. And I felt her die in my arms.
“Julia and Taylor healed me. And Keith donated his blood so they could do a surgery to save me,” She said a little tearfully, “That’s not important right now.”
“Then what is?” I challenged, still holding her in my arms. “You need to tell me what happened!” I shook her shoulders and she looked away.
Even without the mate bond, I could tell she really wanted to say something but was afraid to. She always had this habit where she bit her lip and looked at the ground. It was kind of cute.
“I can never have kids, Brandon. I won’t be able to have a normal family or- or have a normal life. The surgery left me weaker than most wolves, it hurts when I try to phase. And. . . And the worst part is-” She started hiccuping and that’s when I hugged her again. She buried her head in the crook of my neck and I rubbed the small of her back.
“The worst part is that we’ll never be mates again.” Amy choked out and I could feel her tears stain my shirt.
But I didn’t care. Because it hurt me, too. I never realized how important my mate was to me until I lost her.
She sobbed for some time while I stood and held her. She wiped her eyes and finally broke the silence.
“I need to go away for a while.” Her words were clear and concise, even if her head was buried in my neck.
“Go away where?”
“I just need to go away.” She didn’t explain, which made me sad.
Did she not want to be with me anymore now that we weren’t mates?
She lifted her face from my chest so I could see her sapphire eyes sparkling of her tears.
It physically hurt me to watch her cry.
I reached out and wiped her tears from her face. She didn’t lean away from my touch.
“Don’t cry,” I told her, my voice lowering into a soft plead, “I can’t stand to see you cry,”
“I-I know I’m not making any sense right now. . . But I just have to go.” Amy said and even though I didn’t understand one single word she said, I nodded.
I would wait for her until she was ready to come back to me.
She unlatched herself from me and started walking towards the exit. I felt lonely and empty without her body to hold, like it was before I met her. Dull.
“Just so you know, Albert and I are signing a truce.” I called out to her and she stopped walking to turn around and smile at me.
“When?”
“In a month.” To wait for the wolves in pain to heal and to wait for the wolves whose loved ones died to grieve.
Time healed.
“I’ll come back, wait for me,” She whispered and when I blinked, the angel was gone.