Alexander
As he walked down the hallway, Alexander wished he was still in Boaz’s cabin, wrapped in the werewolf’s warmth. But he knew he had to do this. He couldn’t put it off any longer.
He stopped outside his parents’ room and took a steadying breath. He knocked, then pushed the door open.
His mother sat on a settee by the window, dressed in a flowing white robe. Her hair fell down her back in glossy curls. She turned when he entered, and a smile lit up her face, softening her eyes.
She was happy to see him.
Alexander’s chest tightened, and for a second, he couldn’t breathe.
“Hey, stranger,” she said.
“Hey,” Alexander replied “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good,” she said. “Come here.” She patted the settee.
Alexander took a breath and crossed the room. He sat beside her and stared out the window as snow drifted down, covering the yard in white.
“Your father told me about Drago.”
“Yeah,” Alexander said, his throat tight. “I’m sorry. I…”
“Don’t be sorry you’re alive,” she said, touching his cheek gently. “He took care of you, like I asked him to.”
Alexander turned to her, stunned.
“Why would you tell him to do that?” he asked.
“Because you were always too busy taking care of everyone else to take care of yourself. While your father and I were asleep, I didn’t want to worry.”
Alexander blinked rapidly as the pain of losing Drago hit him all over again.
“It’s alright, Alex,” his mother said, wrapping her arms around him. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise.” She smoothed a hand down his back in slow, soothing strokes.
Alexander cried. With every tear, the pain that had felt like a boulder on his chest melted away. He cried until he couldn’t cry anymore. When he was done, he lifted his head and quickly wiped his face, embarrassed. He wasn't a little boy anymore.
“Do you feel better?” she asked, brushing away the tears he had missed.
“Yes,” Alexander said.
“We should send him off properly,” she said, rising to her feet and moving to the window, looking both ethereal and fragile in the pale light.
“I’ll get everything ready,” Alexander said, standing beside her. “We’ll send him off tomorrow.”
“No. That’s too soon. I’ll tell you when.”
Alexander kept quiet, not reminding her that it had been close to two hundred years since he’d been gone. If she wanted to wait, they would wait.
“It would be nice to send him off on a warm day, with the stars bright in the sky,” she said quietly.
“Yes, it would be nice,” Alexander said, even though they were in the middle of winter. The summer months in the mountains were short, and they were six months away.
But he didn’t say anything else. He just stood beside her, hoping that would be enough.
***
Boaz