Chapter 287: The Gentle Caress of the Wind

Rose Cullen’s POV

I found myself standing at the entrance for several minutes, staring at the rows of gravestones ahead of me.

Some were old, their inscriptions faded by years of rain and sunlight. Others looked almost new, with fresh flowers resting against their bases.

And somewhere in the middle of them all was my mother’s grave.

God...I had imagined this moment countless times.

When I was younger, I’d thought about visiting her and telling her about my training. About the day I’d finally become strong enough to defeat Harrison. About the day Father would look at me and tell me he was proud of me.

I’d even imagined telling her that I’d finally become the heir of Bloodmoon Vanguard Pack. I’d imagined so many things.

But somehow, I had never imagined standing before her grave with absolutely nothing left to prove.

I took a deep breath and started walking. When I finally found her grave, I stopped.

There it was.

It looked different from the others since she was once Luna.

Daphne Blackthorn. Beloved wife. Beloved mother. Beloved Luna of the North.

I stared at the inscription for a long time, then I crouched carefully and placed the small bouquet of roses I’d brought beside the gravestone.

"Hi, Mum." I said.

My voice sounded strange. I hadn’t called her that in a long time, so I simply stared at her name, wondering what I was supposed to say next.

Should I tell her about everything that had happened? Should I apologise for not coming sooner? Should I tell her that I missed her?

I had so much to say, yet none of the words seemed enough.

So I sat down on the grass beside her grave.

"I finally came," I murmured, brushing a little dirt away from the bottom of the stone. "It took me long enough, didn’t it?" A small smile tugged at my lips, "You’d probably scold me for waiting this long. Then you’d tell me that I was being stubborn, and I’d argue that I got it from you. Actually, I don’t know if you were stubborn. I barely remember enough about you to say that."

The smile slowly faded, and I looked down at my feet as the tears began to gather. That was the thing about losing someone when you were young. You grew older, and the memories stayed behind in little pieces. A laugh here. A familiar smell there. The warmth of a hand holding yours.

Sometimes, I couldn’t even remember the sound of her voice. Other times, I remembered everything except the things I desperately wanted to keep.

"Mum, I remembered what happened that night." I finally said. "I remembered the path. You holding my hand. The way you looked at me before..." I swallowed. "Before I killed you."

I felt my chest twist into knots, but I forced myself to continue.

"I know you didn’t blame me. Not really. I was ten, and I didn’t know what was happening to me. Seraphina was acting on awakened instinct, and neither of us understood what it meant to be a silver wolf..." A bitter little laugh escaped me, and then I whispered, "I wish you’d been there to tell me I wasn’t a monster."

The tears began slipping down my cheeks, and I didn’t bother wiping them away.

"I missed you so much," I whispered again.

And just like that, I was ten again.

"I wanted him to love me," I confessed even more, looking at the gravestone. "Even after everything, I wanted him to be proud of me. I thought if I became the heir, maybe he’d finally see me. Then he finally offered me the position, and I told him to keep it." That actually made me laugh. A small, genuine laugh that surprised even me, "You should have seen his face."

I could almost imagine mum laughing with me.

"I cut ties with them today," I told her. "Father, Harrison, and Caspian. All three of them...and I don’t know if that makes me a bad daughter or a bad sister. Maybe someone will think I’m cruel for refusing to give them another chance." I paused, thinking about it, "But I’m tired, Mum. I’m so tired of trying to make people love me, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for them to become the family I needed."

I leaned my head against the gravestone, careful not to put too much weight on my injured knee.

"I found another family, though." I smiled wildly this time, "Charlene. You would love her. She’s warm and kind, and she fusses over me like I’ve known her my whole life. She has this little camera she carries around everywhere, and she keeps taking pictures of us when we aren’t looking."

I chuckled, yapping carelessly now.

"She took one of all four of us by the stream. Me, Sylas, Zeke, and her. I think you’d like Sylas and Zeke, too." I said and felt my cheeks warming up, "Well, you’d probably have a lot to say about them. Especially Zeke. He’s loud, stubborn, and thinks he can get away with anything just because he’s handsome...and Sylas pretends he’s the reasonable one, but he’s just as bad. He simply hides it better."

I kept on yapping about my mates.

About Zeke’s ridiculous jokes and Sylas’s quiet teasing. About how they both looked at me as though I was something precious, even on the days when I could barely stand myself.

I told her about Charlene’s cottage, the stream behind it, and how peaceful it felt to wake up there.

I even told her about the little stuffed cat, Pikachu and the bracelet they had given me.

Hell...I told her everything.

I told her about Gravemont. Eric. Cain. William. Celeste. Aurelius. The war. The demons. Losing my soul.

When it came to that, I looked up at the sky and smiled again, "When my soul was gone, I saw you."

Then, I looked down at the grave again.

"I didn’t know who you were at first. I couldn’t remember anything, but I knew I didn’t want to let go of your hand."

I could almost feel myself back there, next to her, and I could almost feel her fingers brushing my hair away from my face too.

"You told me to live, Mum. You told me I didn’t have to be strong all the time. That I could rest, and that I could fail and try again." A tear rolled down my cheek, "I think I needed to hear that from you."

I drew my knees closer to myself, resting my chin on them.

"I spent so long thinking that if I wasn’t fighting for something, I wasn’t worth anything. If I wasn’t proving myself, I was falling behind. If I wasn’t strong, I was useless." I glanced at her name again, "But I’m learning,"

It wasn’t easy. Some days, I still felt that old desperation creeping in, that need to do more, be more, prove more. But I was learning that I could be loved without earning it.

That I could rest without being weak.

That I could be happy without feeling guilty about it.

And perhaps most importantly, I was learning that I could remember what happened to her without hating myself for it. Because she wouldn’t want me to live like that.

"I’m sorry it took me so long," I whispered. "I can’t change what happened. I can’t bring you back, and I can’t give you all the years we should have had together...but I can live."

The words felt different when I said them aloud, for it didn’t sound like another I had to fulfil or a promise.

It was simply a choice.

Mine.

"I can live, Mum. I can be happy. I can love people, and let them love me. I can stop chasing the approval of people who never knew how to give it." I smiled through the tears, "And I can come back here whenever I miss you."

As I stood up, I could barely feel the heaviness I had arrived with. The one that has been weighing down my heart for eleven years. The one that has been making me ignore any thoughts about my mother just so I could live with the trauma I didn’t even understand.

It was finally...gone.

"Rest well, Mum." I said, then I added again, "And don’t worry about me, okay? I’ve got people looking after me now. Two very stubborn wolves, actually. You’d have your hands full." I grinned as their faces flashed in my head.

Then, I leaned down and pressed a kiss to my fingertips before touching them gently to her gravestone, "Goodbye, Mum."

I turned and began walking away.

I’d only made it a few steps when a gentle, warm breeze touched my face, and I would have sworn it felt like someone’s palm cupping my cheek.

I froze.

It swept a strand of my red hair behind my ear, then brushed my cheek again, right where my tears had dried.

The gesture took me back to the white void, where my mother had tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The way she’d held my face and called me her little Rose.

I closed her eyes and leaned, into the breeze, "That you, Mum?"

There’s no answer. Only the wind moving through the trees.

But I smiled anyway.