Blood Alpha (Chosen Mate Series 1) [Complete]

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine

The funeral was a sober affair – the rain was falling, the thunder was crackling and the air was suffocating. I woke up, to hear the rain fall hammering against the window. It made me think that the universe was crying for Antony – just as the pack cried for Antony.

I dressed in a knee length black dress, and a pair of heels. Once my hair was styled, and my make-up was applied, I went down to find Layton having a stiff drink. He glanced up at me, before gulping down the liquor.

He wore a suit, which was black and expensive, but his tie was still undone. "You look great" he told me, more because he felt like he needed to not because he wanted to. He didn't like the black dress, because it reminded him of the death, same with my smart hair and black jewelry.

"You ready to go?" I questioned. Layton poured himself another whiskey, downed it quickly, before nodding his head. Layton lopped his arm around my waist, before we headed out the back door. Layton held the large black umbrella over us, as we walked.

"I love you" I whispered, as his arm dropped from my waist and our fingers intertwined.

"Ditto" he replied, offering me a sad smile. Even though he'd told me he loved me, the day that Antony had died, he still had trouble saying it. But I didn't mind, he'd said it once, and that was all I cared about. He loved me, he'd told me so.

We walked together, in silence, as the rain poured around us. The Pack was already gathered in the clearing behind the village, and there was an eerie silence that fell over everyone.

Everyone was there; men, woman and children. They all wore black and sad expressions. Umbrella's obscured the clearing, as the rain continued to pour. Layton gave my hand a tight squeeze, as we walked to the front.

Layton spoke loudly, speaking of how gallant and brave Antony was. He spoke of his kindness, loyalty and his friendship. He sounded like Layton always did; dominant and loud. Yet, I could hear the waver in his voice, even if the pack couldn't.

Antony's father and kid brother carried his body in. I was crying, soft silent tears, as they placed the body on a pile of wood. Layton handed me a large piece of wood, before setting light to the top. Antony's parents and brother also lit their own pieces, as Layton did his.

All of us used them to set fire to the pile – the flames wildly growing, the reddish infernos licking the edge of Antony's body. I choked on a sob, as I watched his body being swallowed by the fire.

Layton held me to his side, as we watched the body turn to ash and the dark smoke fill the rainy sky. There was a haunting feeling to the day; as if the world knew of the death, and was mourning our friend with us. It was ridiculously narrow minded, and naïve, to believe that; but that was how it felt. Like no sunshine would show on that day of grieve.

For a solid week Layton was quiet and kept to himself; more than he usually did. He was grieving, and it was something he needed to work through on his own. Every night he would come home late, before crawling into bed with me.

Every night we would make love in silence, before holding each other in silence. The reason that I had always been slightly fearful of Layton – even after we'd married and mated – was because he was so hard and emotionless.

But it was only in those two weeks after Antony's death, did I finally lose that last bit of fear I had rooted deep in the back of my head. Because I could see that Layton was just as vulnerable as anyone else, and that made him seem more real to me.

I had mentally placed Layton on a pedestal; making him seem like a put together man who knew exactly what he wanted to do and how he was going to do it. But it was only as I watched him in his sadness, and depression, that I realised that he was just as young and exposed as me. We were the same, but still so different.