I feel dazed. My memory is a mess, and I do not have the patience to sort through it. There is a certain urgency yelling at me to get up, shouting nonsense, but I can hardly hear what it is saying. My surroundings are soft to the touch, my fingers stroking the fabric beneath me before scrunching into a fist. My back aches, more than the rest of my body at least. I feel bruised, like a fruit dropped to the floor one to many times.

   The smell of heaven is terribly familiar. Have I died before? I want to open my eyes and take in the city of white, but I struggle to do so. Suddenly, I find myself drifting off again, slipping into a warm darkness.

  Time is inexistent in heaven. The urge to wake comes to me again, and I do not know how long it has been. An hour? A day? A month? A year? Everything blends together into one long night. But, I have this urge, so this time I try harder than before.

   My eyelids are heavy, hardly letting in a sliver of light, but the light is there overall. It takes patience, which I fight myself for, and slowly but surly I am getting somewhere. I stretch my legs, move my arms, take a couple deep breaths, filling myself to the brim with life. The concept of heaven is leaving me. So far, I feel quite normal, but I thought death was supposed to take away the pain—and my aching back is exactly that, aching.

   When I manage to open my eyes fully they do not seem to take in my surroundings, as if none of it matters. My brain is too focused on the fact that I am alive process anything else. I lay in my spot, wherever I may be, and I attempt to remember how I exactly got here, in this bed. Steadily, the images come back to me. Alpha Kenns death, his killer, Olivia, my missing sister, my mate who I have no update on, and finally, the Wolf that attacked me. I remember running from him, leading him towards the heart of the ambush. I also remember the trembling noises of my back hitting the rocks. From the way I am moving I can tell that nothing is broken, though.

I do not want to wake up only to be told bad news. My mind can conjure the terrible outcomes so easily, tossing together one horrible story after the other. They will tell me, Kendra, she has been missing for days and no one can seem to find her, Caroline, she ended it all after her mate was killed by one of Alpha Kenn's men, and finally, Eric—and I will fall to my knees at the mention of his name, too weak to not cry—there were too many to them too quickly, he was over powered, I am truly sorry.

Eric cannot be over powered, though, so I will change it. At the sight of my limp body, he was distracted, giving the enemy just enough time to strike with the final move.

He would die because of me.

I roll over in my sheets and squeeze my eyes shut, wanting to fall back into my death-like slumber. If this is really how it all ended, I would not be able to take it.

Like my mother, if I discover my mate to be dead, my soul will die with him. A life without him seems impossible. Every morning, waking without him beside me would feel like a slice of my throat every time. Every day without him is starving to death. Every hour is bleeding out on the floor. Knowing that I will never seem him again will be the end of all I am. There is no Isabella without him.

I cannot wake up only to find him gone. I rather die now without knowing. My mind is cruel to me.

There is a sudden noise beyond the bedroom doors and on instinct, I shut my eyes and pretend to sleep, like a child staying up past their bedtime. I hear the door open, followed by gentle footsteps. Curiosity begs me to peek, but I do not.

It smells of her, Caroline. I take it in.

I flinch at the touch of her hand stroking my cheek, and she stops. "Isabella?"

I stay silent, letting out relaxed, even breaths.

"Are you awake?" She questions softly.

There is something about her voice that is not right. That is it, he must be dead. My heart clenches, and that must be the feeling, a mate sensing the death of her one true partner. My eyes squeeze, a dam holding back tears.

She coos, "Isabella?"

I cannot take it. I cannot breathe.

"Tell me it's not true," I whisper, a sound of struggle clear in my tone.

Caroline immediately brings herself down to my level, her face right in front of my eyes, so I open them.

"Tell me," I beg again, louder than before, more serious, more desperate. "Why do you sound like that? Who's dead? Who died? Please don't tell me—"

"You're awake," she smiles, but there is something missing, something stopping her from completing her puzzle of a fulfilled life, a missing piece. "You've been out for a whole day—"

"I don't care! Who died!" I shout, quickly sitting up. "I can see it on your face, just tell me. Tell me."

Carolines lips close.

"Just say it," I murmur, "just say it. He's dead, isn't he? He's dead. He's gone. He's dead. Isn't he? Tell me. Damn it, Caroline! Say something!"

"He's dead," she whispers harshly.

I feel no pain. I feel as if I am floating. I expected sobs and screams, begging and swearing. An intense feeling of death, dread, and hopelessness. But I feel none of it.

Caroline glances away, wipes her cheeks, and does not look back. "My father is dead."

Silence.

"Eric saw it all," she struggles, "it was right in front of him. No one can find my mother. I can hardly breathe and the only reason that I'm fighting is because of Lucas, but damn it, Isabella, you've been asleep," tears are released and she hunches over, hiding herself from the prying eyes of the heavens. "I needed you, but you had to go and fight some stupid wolf! You had to get yourself hurt! He needed you. He's become some numb robot, and here you've been, like sleeping beauty waiting for someone to come kiss you awake. It's been hell out here."

I place my hand on her back and begin rubbing soothing motions. "Caroline, I—" she backs away, letting my arm fall.

"No. I'll be downstairs when you're ready to wake up."

With that she leaves the room and closes the door behind her, leaving me in the familiar silence.

* * *

Maybe it was selfish, running after my sister myself. Maybe I should have went to someone who could have gotten the job done, someone that could fight and actually save her. Somehow I have lost my sister, abandoned my mate in his time of need, abandoned Caroline as well, and started a fight that would eventually kill the past Alpha of this pack.

If I never came here, Sebastian would still be alive.

Looking up into the mirror, I face away from myself. How can anyone stand to look at me? Have I only caused problems this entire time? Have I been blind?

I cannot face them. I have been napping while they have all had to deal with the death of a mate, father, and Alpha. How could I possibly face them?

I tumble to the bathroom floor, sitting with my knees to my chest. Time is no longer a matter to me, apparently. I could have been sitting here for an hour and I would not have known. I suppose I am selfish, but also a coward. My mate needs me, Caroline needs me, my sister needs me, so why can I not get up and run to them?