Alpha [Epsilon #3] {ON-HOLD}

|12| Faelen

(n.)  name derived from the Ancient Irish "Fáelán", meaning "little wolf".

I walked to breakfast feeling deflated. The hostility shot my way by the others didn't help, but I was starting to get used to it. If there was one good thing about this world, it was that it thickened your skin.

When I finally made it into the mess hall, I noticed there were a few abnormalities. For one, the thrones at the front were entirely empty, the Alpha and Luna nowhere to be seen. Also, evidence of the attack still lingered on the walls and floors in the form of claw marks. I felt my stomach drop. They were going to host a mass funeral service for all who fell in the attack, and I wasn't sure I had it in me to attend. I wanted to, but my heart broke just about every time I thought about it.

Sighing, I stared around the tables until I saw what I was looking for – a girl with long, raven hair. Despite myself, a small smile tugged on my lips. It was nice to finally see Kyra in the flesh – I hadn't gotten the chance to talk to her in weeks. Slowly, I made my way over. However, I found myself stopping short when a tall male with long auburn hair came and sat down next to her. Kyra turned to Zion, and I watched his face light up in an instant. They dove into animated chatter, and watching them tugged at a strange string in my heart. While I was happy for them – especially Zion, as I'd seen firsthand how horribly he was coping – I also couldn't help but feel awful about myself.

A lump formed in my throat as I stared at them. I wished I could make Zion smile like that. Or anyone, for that matter.

I swallowed thicky, frozen in place as people moved around me. Part of me wanted to go over, but another part of me knew what would happen if I did. Even if Kyra was delighted, Zion wouldn't take well to my presence, and I didn't want to ruin his mood when he seemed so happy.

At that, my eyes started to water, and my chest constricted with pain.

Just then, somebody shouldered past me, shattering my pity party. I glanced up to see a familiar man storming by, his medium-brown skin gleaming despite his white hair being mussed and unkempt, as though he'd walked through a tornado. My heart clenched in fear. Kyra had talked a bit about the Delta, and though she didn't tell me much, it was clear they had history – and that she wanted nothing more to do with him. It sparked my curiosity, and I found my eyes following him. What had he done to make Kyra dislike him so much?

Laughter burst from Kyra at that moment, and though the sound was relatively quiet compared to the cacophony of the mess hall, the Delta's head whipped towards it all the same. I watched several emotions pass through his mis-matched eyes as he looked at her – anger, regret, longing. He stared at her for a few more seconds, perhaps willing her to look at him, but she was too absorbed in conversation with Zion to notice him. Or maybe she did and just didn't care, I didn't know. Still, I couldn't help but feel a little bad for him as he expelled a long breath, turning to head for a table.