"The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain.

It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared."

― Lois Lowry

The next morning, Claire woke in a somber mood. It happened to her sometimes. She'd learned to live with this inner quiet. Usually, it came only after she'd cried her heart out and finally ran the entire system dry. Days like today happened far and few between, but occasionally she woke with this deep inner sadness.

She had come to recognize this feeling and would let the hollowness take over every single time. It came along with the memories that flashed along her eyelids, all of them revolving around one sole image: Shane, on the ground of a dirty, old cabin, not moving.

She'd cried for her brother. She'd cried for all of her family: her mother and father—who she could not even remember—and her brother. Even her uncle, Justin, who'd tried to kill her last year. The same uncle who'd killed her brother Shane.

At one point, she'd started crying for herself.

That was what she hated the most. When self-pity came around, strength went out the window. With it came the excuses and with excuses came the unending grief and sorrow. Claire was determined to get past that.

So, while she forced herself to stop the pity, soothing the deep, inner ache was a whole other story.

Alone. The exact reason came from her thoughts. I feel alone.

But she wasn't alone. She had Charlie. She had Cole and Marie and Theresa and Gabriel and Marcus and even Wyatt. She had Nate. So why couldn't she escape that feeling?

She got up—it had to be almost noon with the way the sun heated the room—and took a quick shower, then made her way downstairs.

The kitchen looked as if yesterday had not even happened. Theresa had swept all the food and cleaning supplies back into their original positions. The white countertops were spotless save for a few small daisy plants near the sink and the window. The light beige table had been cleared as well.

What Claire loved most about the kitchen was the way it screamed "Theresa." There was a certain warm, motherly feel to the room that really came forward. With Theresa in the house—and now Marie—there was a perfect amount of feminine touch throughout the place. The kitchen was Theresa's stomping ground, and anyone who walked through the house could easily tell that with the bright hand towels and cooking utensils.

Speaking of Theresa. "Good morning, Claire."

"Good morning." Claire squinted against the bright light streaming in through the window.

Marie sat at the table with Theresa. Both of them nursed a cup of coffee and looked at papers in front of them.

"Just the girl-wolf we were discussing," Marie said.

Oh no. That couldn't possibly be good. "What were you both talking about?" she asked innocently.

Marie sniffed, holding her coffee between two palms near her lips. "Nothing."

Then it was definitely something. Warily, she made her way over to the coffeepot and grabbed a cup. Whatever it was, it'd probably be better to go in armed. Coffee would at least make her more awake and prepared.

"I'm telling you, Marie, she's going to pick mine," Theresa said.

Marie narrowed her eyes playfully. "I think I know Claire, Theresa."

"Actually, I think I know Claire, Marie," Nate piped in as he came around the corner into the kitchen. "Whatever it is."

The two ladies shared a look and then exploded into laughter.

Claire picked up one paper. What the hell were they even—? Her eyes widened, and she dropped it as if it'd burst into flames.

Wedding dresses. They were looking at wedding dresses.

"Which one do you think is better, the one with the lace or the sweetheart neckline?" Theresa asked.

"Oh, dear Goddess." Claire backed up until her hip hit the counter.

"Stole the words right out of my mouth," Nate mumbled, snagging a mug to fill with coffee. "Mom, I thought I talked to you about this."

"You did, Nathaniel." Theresa grinned wickedly. "But that doesn't mean I listened."

"Claire and I will get married and have our own mate ceremony when we feel comfortable enough to—and not a moment early," he said. "Besides, Claire just finished up high school. I don't want to prevent her from going to college."

She had just finished up high school—early graduation and everything. College was next on her list, but for some reason she wasn't feeling it. Maybe she'd just go to community college and call it a day. Either way, she had some time to experiment with the idea. At least an entire summer.

"Claire is eighteen, she can legally get married," Theresa chirped in.

"Claire can go to college in the area after you two get married. See? Best of both worlds. And less competition for you, Nate. You know how college boys are," Marie added.

Claire raised a hand. "Claire is right here, and she can make decisions for herself."

Nate had saddled up next to her by the countertop and placed a hand on her upper back. At Marie's mention of college boys, he stared down at her.

"What?" Claire asked. Then it clicked. She rolled her eyes. "If you even think I'd leave you for a college boy, Nate, I swear to—"

He blinked. "I didn't think that."

"You did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you—"

"Marriage is definitely in your future!" Theresa called out, gesturing at the two wildly.

"It is in our future," Claire said, "But not at this moment. I can't handle that. Tell her, Marie."

"Well..." Marie chewed on her lip. Something she only did when she didn't want to agree, but didn't want to say no either.

"Marie!" Claire couldn't believe it. "Aren't you supposed to be the one encouraging me to take my time and make sure I'm ready?"

"Usually, yes." Marie's expression leaked worry. "But this pack isn't as strong without a mated Alpha pair. The wolves are getting concerned."

All the wind blew out of Claire's sails at Marie's comment, her shoulders sagging. "What? No one's...no one's mentioned any worry to me."

"They wouldn't," Theresa said, her hands clasped together on the table. "We all know your history, Claire. And I will not lie to you, darling, there are a lot of wolves in this pack still trying to get past your old rank as bottom of the pack."

"Not everyone is as cool with an Omega being their Alpha Female as others," Marie said. "I hate to say this, Claire, but it might be better for the pack to see some unity between you two in order to breach this divide we have right now."

It hurt. She knew some people didn't like her being Alpha Female. It came with the territory of a place of power. Not everyone was going to like you. But it became especially confusing with Claire's whole Omega-turned-Royal situation. She'd gone from the lowest rank to the absolute highest rank. It was bound to leave people confused and reeling.

But to hate her for the sole reason that she was once an Omega? That was not fair. Not only that, but now Nate had to deal with the unease in the pack.

"They can all go screw themselves," Nate growled low enough that no one outside the room would hear. Wolf senses were crazy good. "I get to decide what is best for this pack and best for me."

That statement only made her shoulders tense. It touched her that Nate would put her before everyone else. As a mate, that was what happened often. At the same time, she was concerned and sad at the thought of Nate having to battle his own people for her.

The pack could not be strong, could not stand at its best, without every wolf on the same page and striding towards the same goals. "Nate..."

Nate set his mug on the counter and gripped her by the elbows. "Are you happy, Claire? Right now?"

Right now? No. But that was only because of the conversation at hand. In life? She had it pretty well. Compared to what was happening a year ago, she was a ball of glee. "Yes," she said, though, to her frustration, the answer didn't feel right.

"Then we are fine how we are," Nate said. "The mating ceremony and marriage can wait another two months or so."

"It can take a while to plan a wedding," Theresa added in. "We can plan slow."

Nate mulled that over. "What do you think, Claire?"

"I can do slow," she said, "Just not straight onto dresses. It feels weird."

She'd have to grow used to the idea of getting married. Not that she wasn't thrilled to take Nate as a husband and mate. It just wasn't something she'd planned to worry over this early in life. Maybe in her early twenties, but not now.

"Sounds good to me," Nate said. "I supposed I should get on with that proposal then." He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

Claire laughed. "Maybe you should."

"So we have the 'all clear'?" Theresa asked, excitement shining in both her and Marie's eyes.

Claire sighed. "Yes."

~

The next morning Claire hit the dirt back first, her stomach screaming out. All the air in her slim body left her in one moment, rushing away like birds scattering.

A heavy form rolled off her. "Ow," she wheezed, rolling to her side to get up. It was ten times easier that way when this happened.

Gabe held a hand down from above to help her up. "You good?"

Instead of grabbing his hand, she rested on her side for a moment. Her lungs burned. "Gabe," she huffed out between breaths. "Anyone ever tell you you're the least mature ninety-six-year-old ever?"

When she finally pulled herself together and got up, Gabe grinned at her. "I've heard it once or twice."

"Good. So you know then."

He clapped his hands together. "Alright. What do you say, another round?" He rubbed his hands eagerly.

Claire shook her head. "Nuh uh. Hard pass. Go train with your warriors. I'm done for today."

She'd dressed this morning in a simple t-shirt and shorts, knowing it would be pointless to attempt to look pretty anyway. Most mornings before the sun warmed up the summer air and the wall of humidity tried to strike them down, she trained with Gabe. Save for a day here or there, he'd been strict on getting her out of bed early.

She didn't enjoy getting up at the ass crack of dawn so Gabe could put the beat down on her.

"Come on, Aaricia." He adjusted his sweaty gray t-shirt. "It was one tackle. If you'd been paying attention like I told you, you would've easily sidestepped it."

"I tried that," she said. "But you were way too fast."

"Do you think your enemies are going to slow down so you can hit them?"

"No, but—"

Gabe stretched out his neck. "You must be ready for anything. Especially people who fight dirty. There are no rules in this kind of fight."

He cleared his throat and waited for her to get back into her ready position before he said, "Aim for my solar plexus."

She frowned at him. "Your what?"

He rolled his eyes. "My chest, Aaricia, aim for my chest."

Claire blew out a breath. "Well, alright."

Gabe attacked her first, rushing straight forward with his left arm tight to his side. His right arm extended out in a wide punch aimed at her side.

She deflected, then crouched low to come up with an uppercut at his chest.

He blocked. Damn.

Gabe never let her slack off in training. It was for a good reason. "The enemy will never give you a break," he'd told her countless times. It never stopped her from complaining, though.

If she had to admit it, she quite liked that Gabe never let her off easy. It made each of her victories more thrilling.

She veered back to avoid a snap kick and almost fell right on her butt. A grin spread on her face. Take that, Gabe. She used her momentum to whirl her leg up and around into a roundhouse kick, but Gabe had been ready for that too.

"Too slow, Aaricia." Gabe grunted, grabbing her foot and holding on. "Now, how are you going to get out of this one?"

He'd just barely finished the sentence when her left fist came out and hit him hard in the shoulder. She pulled back hard to yank her leg out of Gabe's grip.

Surprised, Gabe released her, then grunted when her foot came back up and hit his chest. Solar plexus.

Gabe, sweaty and somehow not nearly as out of breath as she was, pulled back. He rubbed at his stomach, right underneath his pecs. "Nice."

She gave him a clumsy curtsy. "Thanks."

Marie came out of the house a little later with lemonade for the two of them. "How are things coming along?"

"Good." Gabe chugged half of his glass and wiped at his mouth. "My little protégé is slowly getting better."

"That's great." Marie handed Claire her own glass. "You looked like you were holding your own, Claire." She set the tray down on the grass and then sat down cross-legged. "Though I have to admit I was worried at one point."

Claire had long since collapsed onto the ground. Only her arms held her upper body up. "I didn't know you were watching."

Marie brushed some of her brown hair behind her ear. "I was in the kitchen doing dishes. It's hard not to watch when you're right in my line of sight."

"Makes me proud," Marie continued. Wind brushed past all of them. It felt nice against Claire's hot skin. The sun was not doing her any favors today. "It's always great to see my daughter learning. Even if it is fighting."

The easy way Marie said daughter caught Claire completely off guard. Marie didn't do that often.

Claire had spent her entire life growing up knowing that she was adopted. There was always this underlying knowledge between Claire, Marie, and Cole that Claire was not theirs. She wasn't their true daughter, their own flesh and blood.

So hearing Marie throw the word 'daughter' out into the air like it was an accepted truth sobered Claire. Her mind sharpened around the word. Daughter.

She never thought she'd be someone's daughter. Not since she was four and her real parents were murdered.

It made her want to cry.

She didn't have any immediate biological family. She did...for a bit. For a tiny second, she had her brother. But then he'd betrayed her and gotten killed. Her parents were killed. Everyone around her—killed.

That deep, dark sadness exploded from her chest.

Gabe, seeing her face and sensing the situation, mumbled some excuse and went back into the house.

A hot tear slid down Claire's cheek.

She turned away quickly and rubbed at the evidence of her overwhelming emotion.

"Oh, honey—" Marie wrapped her warm arms around Claire and pressed a kiss to her hair. "Don't do that."

There was something about a mother's presence that brought all emotions straight to the surface in one intense explosion of feeling. Even if Claire was determined not to cry, she'd somehow always find herself a sobbing mess in front of Marie.

Marie held Claire in her arms, her hand rubbing soothing circles along her back, the same way she'd done for as long as Claire could remember. Claire sniffled, her tears dripping down her cheeks.

Despite the summer sun and the exercise, having Marie pressed close to her didn't overheat her. Instead, she welcomed the soothing warmth.

Marie waited until Claire pulled herself together, then spoke. "I think that outburst was a long time coming, don't you think?"

Claire only sniffed and wiped at her nose.

"I haven't seen you cry that way since you and Ashley had your first fight years ago," Marie admitted.

Years ago, when Ashley—possibly the world's biggest bitch—and Claire were still friends, she'd broken down and told Marie about how Ashley had been turning her friends at school against her, all because of some stupid boy named Chris.

"I am ashamed to admit that I did not handle that situation well," Marie said. The day after Claire freaked out, Marie had gone to Ashley's father Adam and ripped into him.

Adam, in charge of the pack's finances at the time, responded by stopping the flow of money the pack awarded them every month to help them financially.

Claire eventually got her own revenge by dating Chris, Ashley's ex-boyfriend and old pack member. Until he dumped her, that is.

"You want to tell me what that was all about?"

Claire picked at blades of grass, not looking at Marie. "You're here for good, right? You won't change packs again?"

Years ago, Marie and Cole had moved themselves to the Mistwood Valley pack as a way to start over. They didn't have family in the area, and initially, the pack hadn't been the most welcoming. Claire would stay here, to be wherever Nate was. He was her mate. But Marie and Cole...after everything that happened with Justin...what was keeping them here? Some of their pack members had branched out after the horror Justin brought as they'd been unable to get past what had happened. They hadn't wanted to be linked to Claire.

Claire was closer to the situation than most, which linked Marie, Cole, and Charlie to it. Would they eventually begin to distance themselves from her too?

After a moment, Marie gave a sad sigh. "I knew this would happen. I told Cole this would happen," she mumbled.

"Claire, if there is one thing you ever learn from me, I want it to be this: I will always be here. And I will always be your mom. Mom by choice. And most times, choice is stronger than blood.

"You are never alone, Claire," Marie continued. "You have me and Cole and Gabe. By Goddess, Charlie just absolutely adores you. All he ever talks about is you. And Nate—honey, I don't think you see yourself as clearly as you think you do. That boy would move the whole Earth for you if he could. He's not going anywhere. None of us are going anywhere."

Claire choked down a sob. She was right. Like always, Marie was a hundred percent correct. She just needed to hear it. Needed to know for sure.

"I wouldn't trade you for the world." Marie's arms tightened around Claire. "You are mine." Then Marie pulled back, her gaze focused sharply on Claire. "That's not all this is though, is it?"

If she hadn't been raised by the woman, Claire would've believed Marie could see into the souls of others. Claire's fingertips pressed into the back of Marie's blouse. "No."

She knew the moment Marie locked onto the issue, as her arms squeezed Claire before she let go. "I couldn't stop Ashley from making your life hell. But I could control the way I responded to the situation. Going to Adam may not have been the best response, but it was what I could do." A soft wind swept over the yard. Marie brushed at a few strands of Claire's hair that had come dislodged from their hold. "We are not responsible for other's actions, Claire. We are not the Goddess to decide what is best for others. Nor can we control what they do with their circumstances. But we can control our responses and what we put out into the world."

As she spoke, Marie's words muted some of the screaming ache in her chest. "You did not choose for Justin to do what he did. Not one single wolf out there would point their fingers at you in anger, either, for stopping him. Even now, it is not your responsibility to take on everything. The only responsibility you have is to yourself."

Marie cupped Claire's chin. "Justin made his decisions. Now, how are you going to respond? By giving him power from the grave? Or by rising up past this and moving forward?"

~