Reject Me If You Can! I Dare You...

SKY POV.

My naked feet rhythmically tap on the dusty dashboard in front of me, synchronized with the Seven songs blaring from the stereo. My mother cannot contain her joyous expression as she bobs her head and drums on the steering wheel. I turn around to observe my brother Owen, who is energetically pretending to play the guitar behind me. As the chorus looms, we all take a deep breath together.

Suddenly, the truck slams into us.

In an instant, we were lifted off the ground... Owen's screaming... And my mom's crying..

My eyes are closed with an immense amount of force. I slowly blink my eyes, then rapidly to eliminate the dirt and smoke. I strive to sit up, but it eludes me. My body seems to be undergoing a self-healing process. Blue's whimpering is audible to me, but it's weak within me, an unusual occurrence considering I require her help now more than ever.

'Blue, I need your help. Lora and Phila. Where are they? Are they okay? You need to track them down. Find them.' She growls loudly within me, so loud, in fact, it almost comes out.

She is indeed correct. My body has only partially healed, but it's adequate for me to be able to sit up. I examine the wreckage closely, but there is no indication of anything. I put my nose high in the air and try with all of my ability to pick up their scent, but I can't find it. I strain to hear, and my ears pick up the faint sound of something moving just a few feet away. It's coming from our car that doesn't even look like a car anymore.

"Mom!? Owen!?" I shout out.

"Sky?" I heard Owen's voice respond. "Sky, I can't move."

"It's going to be okay." I yell back. "Where are you?"

"Sky, I can't move my legs. The metallic object feels heavy and unwieldy on top of my body. They struggled, but the weight pinning them down was too much to bear. I can't heal myself!" I can hear the panic in his voice, in addition to smelling his fear.

I hear a rustling sound from within the car, and then I see her long, golden hair cascading down her back.

"Mom!" I cry out. "Mom?"

Her hair doesn't move again. Blue let out a mournful howl before disappearing from sight. A small whimper escaped my lips as I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a solitary tear trickle down my cheek.

"Sky?" Owen calls out. "Where's mom? Why isn't she answering?"

I struggled to find the words, my mind consumed with uncertainty. The thought is so abhorrent that I cannot bear it. It can't be true. I yell her name again, but nothing.

"Sky?" His fear has only increased.

I fill my lungs with air and unveil my eyes. "Owen, I need you to try to sit up for me."

"I can't. I'm lying face down."

"Okay. I'm going to get to you." I fold my legs underneath of myself and place my hands firmly on the ground. "You're on the other side of the car?"

"Yes." He calls out.

I can feel him easing up, but the metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils, and my anxiety intensifies.

"Sky, where's mom?"

"I'm on my way, Owen. Don't worry." I crawl on all fours, cutting my knees and hands on bits of broken glass, to get to him. I pretend not to hear his question about mom and instead delve into a different subject. I wish I could shake the feeling that my thoughts might be true. It can't be true.

"I'm almost there Owen."

Having circled the car, I catch sight of his flushed face. He is marked with a cut on his cheek and his hair is strewn with pieces of glass from the broken window. The door, which was supposed to provide protection from the elements, was now pressing him down onto the ground.

"Hi Owen."

"Hi Sky." He attempts a grin.

Looking closer, I noticed that his body was completely trapped beneath the door, and to start healing, I needed to lift it off him.

"Okay, it's all going to be okay. I'm going to move the door off of you so you can start healing."

As soon as he nods, I drop to my hands and knees and begin to crawl.

As I approach the place where I think his feet would be, I'm closer to mom's door. It's clear that the impact was severe - the windshield is shattered, and the airbag is deflated, but she's still alive. She still hasn't moved and I've noticed that the smell of blood has gotten stronger. I sit on my legs, feeling the roughness of the ground beneath me, and take a deep breath to clear my mind.

"Sky?"

"Yeah, Owen?"

"Do you want me to count to three?" He asks sincerely. Ever since we were very little, and we had to do something scary, we would hold hands and the other would count to three. Despite my efforts to hold them back, tears streamed down my face, and I wiped them away as quickly as I could.

"Yes, please." I nod, even though he can't see me.

He counts out loud and as he says three; I lift the heavy door off of him and push it so that it lies on the other side of him. I carefully roll him over so that he's laying on his back so that his bones will reset in their proper place.

As he heals himself, I inch a little closer to the front of the car to get a better look at mom's injuries so we can help her. By now, she would have synchronized her mind with the rest of the pack.

Someone, or many someone's, should be on their way to help us right now. But as I get closer, I have to stop myself from looking. The smell of blood is so strong and her lifeless body in the front seat solidifies my worst fear. I look back at Owen with tears in my eyes, and he knows. He must have detected my emotions, as his eyes have begun to well up with tears.

"Mom's okay, right Sky?" He whispers.

"She's okay." I lie.

I don't know how or when, but she had to have gotten through to someone because just as Owen finally sits up, I can hear the pack. A stampede of howling wolves of all colors and sizes comes storming out of the woods, my father in the lead. Some of them shift back and approach the wreck. The women's sobs and the wolves' mournful howls fill my ears, but my eyes remain locked on my father.

He's shifted back and he just stands in front of our demolished car wearing nothing but the small mark my mother had given him when they were teenagers. But the mark is different now. It's fading right before my eyes. My father's face is the same. Hard and cold, like it's been my entire life. But there was a distinct feeling that something was amiss. His eyes dart around frantically, searching for something.

He's like a statue, not moving a muscle.

He refrains from speaking.

He doesn't take the time to look for Owen or myself.

He remains motionless, fixating his gaze upon her.

My Uncle Morison coughed out a sob before spotting Owen and I. Right after he sees us, my father's eyes dart over to us and his pained expression is gone and he's back to his normal stoic self. He retreats back to the pack without looking back at mother, without looking back at us.

I see Uncle Morison nod before he runs towards us, avoiding all the debris.

"Hey kiddo." He smiles as he ruffles Owen's hair, knocking some of the glass out. "How is everything? Is anything broken?"

"Everything's fine." I blurt out, annoyed, before Pete has the chance to answer. My facial expression is unchanging, causing Uncle Morison's empathy to shift to anxiety.

"We're trying to heal." Owen's first tear stains his cheek. "But everything is fine. Is that correct, Sky? We're all fine."

Owen tries to smile, but I can tell he's about to burst out laughing. Uncle Morison senses the same thing and softly pats Owen on the back.

"I'm going to have to lift Owen out of his current position. Sky, are you able to stand so I can carry you back as well?" Uncle Morison speaks in hushed tones. It makes me think of mothers. His eyes are the same soft blue that I used to see every morning at breakfast and every night when she tucked me in.

She'll never tuck me in again. We'll never be able to dance horribly again while making pancakes. She will never again brush my hair and hum softly to me. I'll never hear her laugh again as she pins Owen to the floor and tickles him. She'll never smile at me again. My mother has passed away. Gone for good.

"I can walk myself back." I borrow a page from my father's playbook and put on a blank expression. I force myself to act as if I felt nothing, as if I'm numb.

"Everything's going to be okay." Uncle Morison informs us as he covers Owen's face to prevent him from seeing my mother as we pass.

As I walk by, I can't help but notice her. Even with the cuts, dirt, and blood, she's stunning. I can see why my father was staring at her now. And it wasn't because she was no longer alive and he was in shock. It's because she's so stunning that you can't help but stare at her.

A tear falls down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away before anyone notices. Nobody can see me crying. No one has ever seen my father cry, despite the fact that he is the strongest, most powerful Alpha I've ever met. I give my mother one last look before turning around and following Uncle Morison into the woods.

"Yeah, all of us are okay."

-------

My bath water became cold about an hour ago, but I can't seem to summon the strength or will to get out of bed. Several people have knocked on my bathroom door, but I have never answered. I simply sit and prune.

I'm not sure how long I've been in the tub before a soft knock comes to my door. This knock is distinct from the others; it is familiar and full of longing.

I finally get out of the icy water, drain the tub, and wrap a towel around my body. I open the door and walk into my bedroom, past Owen. I rush to the closet, slightly closing the door to give myself privacy while changing without completely shutting him out. He requires my assistance.

"Have you seen, father?" Owen inquires quietly? "I haven't seen him since earlier, you know."

"I suppose he's preoccupied. He's a man on the go." My wet, dark hair bounces on my shoulders as I shrug. I walk past Owen again, unable to meet his gaze. I walk over to my desk and shuffle some papers around, opening and closing books at random.

He sighs, "I miss her."

Those three words bring me to a halt. I've never felt so exposed to three words before. I've never been so angry and sad in my life because of three words.

I twist around and wrap my arms around my younger brother.

'It's not fair to him or to me.'

"Me too." I keep my voice low. I feel him cry in my arms, and I want to cry as well, but nothing comes out. "How about I tuck you in tonight?"

Owen releases my grip and wipes his runny nose and puffy pink eyes. He gives a nod.

I lead him down the hall to his room and turn on every light. Owen climbs into bed while I double-check that all the windows are closed. He has a glass of water, his nightlight is turned on, and there are no monsters in his closet or under the bed.

"Just in case." He states. "Not because I'm scared, but just in case."

"Of course." I nod as I tuck him in, just like mom. "There."

"What happens now?" Owen murmurs, clutching the stuffed bear his mother gave him for his last birthday.

"Now I'm going to turn the lights off and you're going to go to sleep."

"That's not what I mean." He shook his head.

"I don't know." I keep my voice low. I lean across the side of his race car bed and kiss his brow before turning off the lights and leaving the door slightly open in case he needs me in the middle of the night.

I decide to go downstairs and look for Father. I hear yelling coming from his office's direction. We aren't supposed to be up this late or anywhere near his office because this is a place of work and business, not for children'. I had never been inside before.

"Not for the last time! It must be tiger lily, not daisy!" Those words, coming from my father's mouth, sound strange. He's never said anything about flowers to me. "She would have wanted tiger lily!"

The final line sounded depressing. I peered through the door crack to see my father at his desk, Uncle Morison pacing off to the side, sniffling into a tissue, and Greg Potter, my father's Beta, sitting casually on the couch with a cigar in hand.

"I just can't believe that this is what we're doing right now," Uncle Morison murmured.

"What do you want me to be doing, Morison?" My father appears frazzled and unlike himself at the time, but it only lasts a second before his hard, impenetrable exterior returns.

"Have you even spoken to the children?" Uncle Morison inquires. "I can't even imagine what they must be feeling."

"They can look after themselves. Sky has everything under control." My father dismisses the subject as if it were unimportant. Just like he always brushes Owen and me aside.

"She's only ten Luther." Uncle Morison speaks in hushed tones.

"They just lost their mother and instead of being with your children, you're down here going on about fucking flowers!"

"If you're so worried about them, why don't you go check on the little brats?"

I didn't like being referred to as a brat, especially by such a rude and impossible meanie. He took another puff of his cigar, choking slightly. Thank you, Moon Goddess, for punishing him.

"I don't need to be checked on." As I push open the door, I say. "And I am not a brat."

"Sky , what are you doing in here, sweetie?" Uncle Morison rushes to my side and places his hand on my back.

"Go. You know well that you're not supposed to be in here. Get the hell out." I'm not surprised or surprised by his cold tone of voice.

"No," I assert, placing my hands on my hips and locking eyes with him.

"Excuse me?" The sound of his Alpha voice compels my hands to come to a rest at my sides.

"Your disinterest towards me bears no significance. I can manage without your help. On the other hand, Owen does. At this moment, his father is necessary for him. He needs to know what's going on and what's going to happen. I can only do so much." I yelled at my father. I've never had to resort to yelling at anyone. The expression on my father's face suggested he was caught off guard by what I did. His eyes have darkened and his typical stoic expression is replaced with a clenched jaw and tightened fists.

Greg appears to be enjoying himself, as if I am providing him with entertainment.

"Sky." My Uncle Morison scolds. "You cannot talk to him like that. He is the Alpha."

"Alpha this, Alpha that. It's always about him being an Alpha." I roll my eyes. "Be a father for once!" And with that, I storm out of his office and up the stairs to my room. With a loud thud, I shut the door and climb into bed, falling asleep without delay.

...

"Sky." Owen shakes me again. "Sky, something has happened."

As soon as I opened my eyes, I sat up and accidentally hit heads with Owen.

"Why are you invading my personal space?"

"Come on. Something's happened."

I chase after him down the stairs, my hand pressing against my aching forehead. He runs all the way to father's office, and he's right, something has happened.

Several individuals, a few of whom I'm not acquainted with, converge around the door and are speaking boisterously. The overlapping voices in the room made it difficult to distinguish any particular conversation.

"Oh my Goddess." Uncle Morison exclaims when he sees Owen and I standing out in the hallway just staring at the hoard of people in father's office. "What are you two doing over here? This is not where we get breakfast." He leads us away from the commotion and into the kitchen. He gets out three bowls, three spoons, the honey-nut cheerios, and the milk. He mixes all the ingredients together and commences the act of ingesting his cereal, while Owen and I observe him intently in anticipation of an explanation.

"Are you going to tell us or not?" I blurt out finally.

"Yeah. What happened?" Owen asks through a mouthful of cheerios.

"It's your father." Uncle Morison whispers.

"What about him?" I press.

"He's gone."

"What do you mean 'he's gone'?" Owen has dropped his spoon and is looking down into his lap, waiting to hear uncle Morison's answer.

"Uncle Morison?"

"He left." He makes it a point to look is both in the eyes.

"But today's mom's funeral." Owen says quietly. "When will he be back?"

I have a bad feeling about this, and somehow I also feel that this bad news is my fault. I watch Uncle Morison close his eyes and take a deep breath, obviously a family trait, as he prepares himself to tell us something big. I reach out for Owen's hand and hold it tight once he clasps his hand in mine. We both countdown quietly and to ourselves.

"He left the pack."

--------

It was hard to stop Owen from sobbing. He was upset about our father leaving. Everyone could feel his loss. All morning there had been nothing but talk of my father's betrayal.

He left his pack.

An Alpha leaving his pack was unheard of and no one knew what to do. I was furious with him.

How could he do this today, of all days? Today should be about her, but instead of mourning the loss of their Luna, my mother, they're mourning the loss of the betrayer.

I look forward to shedding a single tear for him or my mother. My hair has been restrained and controlled by a headband that complements the uncomfortable black fabric of my dress.

Adorned in a dark suit, Owen stands alongside me, firmly clutching my hand. Someone had attempted to tidy his radiant tresses, the same tresses as my mother's, but relinquished and left it unaltered. His cerulean eyes appear swollen and rosy, with his tears still moistening his plump cheeks, as they keep streaming down incessantly.

Uncle Morison stands aloof, fidgeting with the flower anxiously as the remainder of the group enters the room.

They sit in chairs that are stiff and orderly, with a single aisle cutting through the middle of them. All the chairs are oriented towards us, and as the assembly occupies them, I become progressively uneasy due to the sheer number of gazes fixated upon me. I am familiar with a few individuals as they enter, whereas the majority of them are unfamiliar to me.

Most people were afraid to approach me because of my status as the Alpha's child, fearing they would say or do something wrong and be reprimanded.

As I glance around the room, I see Greg Potter and his family entering and taking their seats in the very first row. I notice he chooses the chair directly in front of me. He takes a puff from his cigar, and the scent of tobacco lingers in the air as he rests his hand on his knee.

It hadn't been long since Greg Potter became a member of our pack. I heard my father tell my mother that he used to be an Alpha, but his pack had been killed while he was away with his wife. His wife sat beside him, but the two didn't seem to match. Her long reddish hair encircled her round face, and her eyes were too kind to be the eyes of Greg Potter's wife. Their sons, on the other hand, look very much like their father except for one who more closely resembled his mother. Uncomfortable chairs and annoyed stares were the order of the day as the three of them sat and looked at Owen and me.

I can tell that they're all of different ages, but the oldest one stares at me a bit too hard. I don't have time to scowl at him because Uncle Morison steps up in front of me, breaking my eye contact.

"Welcome everyone. I express my sincere appreciation to all of you for coming together to pay tribute to my departed sister and extend your sympathies to my niece and nephew. I'm sure you've all heard by now that my brother-in-law, our Alpha, has left. And as much as that saddens me, we do not have to worry. Our exceedingly devoted and competent Beta will take charge and rightfully claim his position as our Alpha." Uncle Morison declares to the entire group of people.