16 years later

It was just a memory. At least, that's what I try to tell myself when I jolt awake from the sweet torment that is remembering Keifer.

Sitting up in bed, I stretch my arms in front of me and stare out the window at the snow covered February ground. Every day in Montana blends together when winter rolls around. It snows 8 months out of the year here, I've had to get used to the endless mounds of white fluff that seem to pile up endlessly. I miss the sun, miss the warmth.

When I roll out of bed, I try to push away all the memories of my childhood that flood me. As a young pup, I always enjoyed playing in the snow with my friends. It was such innocent joy that I took for granted. Keifer and I love the snow. There were countless snowmen, carved out igloos, snowball wars, and snow angels. The fun never ended, until it did, 4 years ago when he was sent away to that stupid behavioral camp.

Spearhead is what it's called, a place to send your troubled teenaged shifter to get put back in line where they belong. Not a day goes by that I don't think about Keifer. My best friend, my childhood confidant, my mate.

Except, that's just it, one knows that we're mates. Not my friends, not my Alpha, not even my Dad, and that knowledge hangs heavy on my shoulders every day. But, I made a promise that I plan to uphold.

I push my freezing feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers, wiggling my toes in the warmth as I head downstairs for an early morning breakfast. Each stair creaks underneath me, a comforting sound.

Making a fresh pot of coffee, I run a hand over my hair and try to imagine what it looks like right now. It's never good in the morning, it resembles a rat's nest rather than a cute bob. As soon as my head hits the pillow, it's a mess of tangles. I try to comb my fingers through the waves, and fail. There's no way to make the mess less frizzy without some form of hair product.

I pour myself a large, brimming mug of black as night coffee, hoping the drink will rouse me from my half asleep state. Though it helps me to wake up, it never gives me energy. I haven't had true, real energy in a long, long time. My light is dwindling, I can feel it day by day as it shrinks away like the tide of the ocean receding from the sand.

"Good morning, sleep well?" I glance up at my Dad, the utter definition of a smart ass. He's never, ever serious, except with me, a little fact that I despise. Why does she have to be the life of the party until I come around? It makes no sense.

"Morning." I say, a half hearted smile expertly painted on my face. I pretend to be chipper in front of him, but it doesn't work all of the time. Sometimes he looks a little too close and sees past my facade. It's one of those days, I think.

He groans, grabbing a box of cereal from the shelf and throwing open the fridge to access a carton of milk.

"Don't give me that fake shit. I can tell you're in a bad mood." He says, and he's right. It never surprises me how good he is at calling me out. He can see right through me. "Now, all I need to know is if it's because you're not a morning person, or if it's something else?"

He doesn't press too hard. There's a lot of things my sadness can be attributed to, and he knows it. Maybe my childhood trauma of watching my birth parents being slaughtered right in front of my eyes, or maybe my lack of confidence at being one of the only werewolves in an all lycan pack, or the fact that my mate was shipped away at the ripe old age of 16. Usually it's the latter.

"Keifer." I mumble, because despite the fact that I never told my Dad that Keifer is my mate, I can never keep much from him. He'll get to the bottom of it.

Dad sighs, rubbing a hand through his sandy blonde hair as he pours the milk over his breakfast. He's only 11 years older than me, but sometimes that age feels like an eternity, especially when I was a kid. There are moments where I don't think that he was grown up enough to adopt and raise me, and I'm always proved wrong.

Despite his youth, he's eternally wise as far as I'm concerned.

"I know you miss him, Opal, but you know why he's still there. He has issues, and his parents are trying to figure out what to do about it. He can't be here if he's a danger to the pack, he almost got you killed." He reminds me, and I cringe.

"That was an accident, and you know it." I mumble, sipping my coffee to keep myself from getting in a fight with my Father again. It happens from time to time. Due to our stubborn natures, we tend to butt heads on a handful of things.

"It doesn't matter. Keifer is reckless, and he has a temper. I don't like you pining after him when I know what he's like."

Even after countless times of defending Keifer, he's still the talk of the pack often. He's always been called a screw up, and some were glad when he left. It's all a bunch of misunderstandings. Sure Keifer did a lot of bad things, but that doesn't mean he's a bad person. A lot of teenagers act out. But he didn't have any slack since his Dad is Alpha. He had no room for error. Everyone expected a lot from him.

I resent Alpha Veiler because of that. I hate him most days. When I see him around the pack, I wish for him to feel my pain. I try to concentrate, like I can force him to hurt like I hurt. He doesn't even know how much agony I go through every single day in this pack without Keifer around. He has no idea how much I miss him. How much I need him.

Or how I feel like I'm dying as the seconds tick by.

I doubt the Alpha knows that we stay in contact, and I don't ever want my own Dad to know either. Keifer was originally meant to have very little contact with the outside world, only his parents and siblings can talk to him, but my clever mate found a way around it. We write each other physical letters. Keeping on the downlow is difficult, but we make it work.

Every letter is a risk. If Keifer's Sergeant found out, he could get in a lot of trouble. But, he's managed to get away with it for years without having anyone notice, so I think he's safe. As for me, I can't let Alpha Veiler find out. If he knew I was encouraging Keifer's misbehavior even a little bit, I would be in deep shit. Not that I really mind. It would be worth any punishment.

Talking to Keifer is the only real rest I get nowadays.

I observe my nails, a farce to keep my Dad from asking anymore grueling questions. When I act casual and distracted he thinks I'm done with the conversation. And there is some truth to that, I'm done for today, but I'm far from over with Keifer. I'll die before I forget about him.

Dad let's me go, and I head back upstairs so that I crawl back into bed with my mug of coffee. I find myself icy cold and unsettled from the already eventful morning. I stare out the wide window across from the footboard of my bed, watching playful snowflakes trickle down onto everything.

There isn't a soul outside today. When the weather is this bad, people tend to stay indoors. I close my eyes, thinking about my mate and what he would probably do if he were here. He'd probably insist on going into the woods to have some fun. Keifer doesn't like staying in one place for too long. He gets fidgety. That's why that military camp is pure hell to him.

His clunky boots would slip and slop through the snow, but he wouldn't care. He'd wear a devilish grin and probably whistle a tune while we held hands.

I almost groan with how much pain shoots through my chest and up into my head at the imaginary image. It's too much. I miss him. I need him. I feel like every day that I go without seeing him my strength just drains away.

I'm fading, and fast.

My phone buzzes on my nightstand, and I huff. Picking up the little device, I read the text notification with squinted eyes.

It's a message from Rain, because of course it is. I try to run away from thoughts of my mate only to have one of the biggest reminder pop in. His sister.

I sigh, running a hand over my face in sheer frustration. I love Rain to death. She's like a little sister to me, and a good friend. But, it's like hell to interact with her when I'm in a mood like this. She so similar to my mate, even if they aren't related by blood.

The text is an invitation to her house, which is all the way across the pack grounds. I gulp. Setting my phone down on the bed, I close my eyes tight].

Being at her place is just another reminder. That's where Keifer grew up, that's where his Dad lives. His bedroom is there, his clothes, his belongings. His essence. It's painful to take.

But, I'm lonely, and Rain has always been there for me. So, how can I even try to say no?

☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾❂ ☾

If you're reading this, you are brave :)