ALPHA SEBASTIAN His Love Is Killing Me

SEBASTIAN

The departure of my sister seemed like a distant memory now. But the events that followed have had a lasting impact on our pack, dividing us in ways we never thought possible. Mother had grown old, and her hair had turned silver while father had died. At one point, the world around us seemed to come to a standstill; the wind ceased, the river stopped flowing, and even the sweet scent of the flowers dissipated.

Victoria’s absence left my world feeling colder, but I gradually became accustomed to the change. Whenever I was alone, the ache would resurface, lingering until someone or something distracted me. Walking towards me, she appeared like a silhouette, as if stepping out of the photograph I kept on my nightstand. In the picture, we stood together as a family, a pack with a bond that could not be broken, and memories flooded back of a time when life was simpler. 

I longed to have her by my side, to share stories and jokes like we once did, but her absence felt like a weight dragging me down. So I begged her in my mind to please understand that nothing good could come out of it. I held onto the hope that we would be reunited someday, even if it was just a self-deception. We could regain the happiness and closeness we lost if she returned. As time passed, the sharpness of anything could fade away. But not my love for her, my dear sister, Victoria.

“We are ready, my son; your father awaits us!” my mother’s faint voice echoed in my room.

Her eyes were downcast, and her shoulders slumped as she walked - a clear sign she was feeling sad. There was no point in being sad about something or someone that has already passed. Memories of my childhood often center on my father, who took the time to teach me valuable skills like fighting, hunting, and how to defend myself. 

He was there just to teach us how to fight. We sometimes just needed a hug. He was not there; we needed a goodnight kiss. He was never there. And that was all they were going to stay, memories.

“Any news from Victoria?” I heard the same voice, but when naming her, mother went down on a path straight to hell. 

As I shifted my position to face her, I immediately noticed that her face was completely inscrutable, leaving me unsure of her reaction. Peering at her disguised grin, I could sense that she was waiting for me to disclose that Vicky would arrive at any moment now. The feeling of sadness and pain permeated the entire room. I didn’t hold her responsible for feeling scared about what I might say because, in some way, she had a sense of what my response would be.

“Mother…”

And my words got stuck in my throat. 

How could I say this without hurting her? The sense of losing everything I had ever known or cared for hit me hard during that moment, and my world seemed to fade away before my eyes. It was almost as if I could smell her pain, and it made me want to do everything in my power to release her from it. Not only did I perceive her fear of being by herself, but I also picked up on every moment of despair she experienced. 

The feeling came over me. I had to reach out and hold her in my arms. I never did that in my life. And not because of lack of love. But because they raised me not to be weak, I was told hundreds of times a day crying was for fragile people; they taught me to always have a straight position and never turn my back on our enemies. But they never meant me to care, to give a hug, or a kiss.

She melted in my arms, seeking comfort as she buried her face in my chest, her sobs echoing through the room. A new feeling was born; belonging. And it was so damn unfamiliar to me, yet somewhere beneath my heart, I knew this was right.

Despite never holding her, I tried to imagine her perfume, but my mind drew a blank. I held her tightly, hoping to ease our pain and despair, and experience what we had never experienced before. Our embrace was a comforting and familiar place, as if we were two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. Her touch made the room warmer somehow. Oh, and how cold I felt when I had to let her go.

“I am sorry, but she will not be here,” I mumbled, almost whispering into her ear.

I wanted to whisper those words softly to shield her from their harshness.

“I understand…” she muttered almost to herself, but did she really understand? Or her suffering blinded her so much, and she just surrendered without even a fight. “Let us go, Sebastian! We cannot let your father wait any longer.”

We were on our way down the stairs when we noticed the faces of people we knew all too well. Cousin Liam was a welcome sight amidst a sea of unfamiliar faces, including faraway uncles and mysterious aunts. Out of all the people, he was one of the few I truly missed. My Beta, Alexander, took charge of my pack as they guarded the outside in their wolf forms.

“Will you excuse me for a while, Mother?”

I hated to leave her alone, but I had to find out why so many familiar faces, yet unfriendly, came to my father’s funeral. “My dear cousin Liam, I’m glad you could come. My father would have appreciated it.”

I approached him with a warm hug and whispered confidentially in his ear. “Why did all these people come here? Don’t tell me they are mourning, I don’t buy it! My anger was so intense that my voice took on a low, almost animalistic tone, and my eyes turned reddish.

“My deepest condolences, Bash, really, I am sorry!”