The Rise of the Alpha

12

At the beta's admission, the sea of concerned faces fell in near-perfect unison and murmurs arose thereafter, f.ollowed by gutted cries from Leila's friends. The members of River Falls had felt their connection to their Alpha and Luna slip as each had succumbed to their injuries, sure, but they just knew in their minds that Leila had somehow survived since they could still feel their connection to her!

"The other ranks, too? Are they d.ead?" asked Aubrey, Mark's gamma's daughter, for she had begged her father not to take off earlier with the others.

Answering the girl with a sullen nod, Amos cleared his throat. "Now ladies and gents, I trust that you understand the gravity of our situation as well as our need to mourn our losses and get you all back to your territories in one piece, so if you'll begin to collect your pack members and link your patrol, it would be most appreciated. Once again, I thank you all for your attendance tonight. I just know it meant the world to Leila. And please, people …. please lift up your prayers for both her safety and an unscathed return."

"You shouldn't leave your borders unguarded like that, Beta," the Alpha of the Crystal Trail Pack piped up, frowning with his arms folded across his chest.

"Oh, no worries there, Russell," Amos replied with a hand held up in reiteration, then he looked out upon the anticipatory crowd and added, "They won't remain that way for long at all. I shall personally make sure of it. I'll go on patrol myself if need be!"

"Let us help you, Beta," suggested someone from the right side of the room.

"Yeah!" shouted a few others.

"It's appreciated, you all, but my men and I will take it from here," Amos declined. "I promise you, though, that if we need the extra assistance, I'll spread the word."

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna send a couple of my extra patrolmen your way anyway, Beta," Russell stated point-blank. "Those rumors are more than just rumors, apparently, and we have to work together to prevent something like this from happening again. It mustn't happen again!" He was on edge, as was everyone else…and rightfully so!

"You do whatever you feel is right, Russell," Amos replied, then he slowly scanned the crowd and added, "And that goes for all of you as well. I'll never turn down extra hands, but I also won't request them. You have your own packs to consider." With Russell and a few others nodding in understanding, the party guests poured out their sincerest condolences and bid their goodbyes then parted ways from the Reception Hall and, eventually, the territory altogether, leaving only the wary members of the heartbroken pack behind.

"Well, ladies and gents," Amos addressed the crowd now vacant of visitors, "I know you all are both mentally and emotionally exhausted and everything in between, but I can assure you that I'll do my very best to guide you all in the days to come." Turning his attention to a group of muscular men mid crowd, he pointed a forefinger at them and said, "I'll need you guys to come with me and fetch the bodies of the deceased, minus the rogues. They can stay where they are for the time being, and we can make a bonfire of them later." Upon the aforementioned men's nodding, he said to the healers in the crowd, "Healers, you'll need to be at your posts to receive our fallen and prep them for burial." With silent nods coming from the addressed figures, he scanned the crowd slowly from the right of himself to the left and said, "As far as the rest of you are concerned, I'll need a few of you to stay behind and help our cleaning crew get the place sparkling at a faster pace, and some of you stronger men and I are gonna go searching. Apart from that, let's call it a night, shall we? Return to your rooms, cling tight to one another, mourn your monumental losses, and pray for Leila's return." Leila's friends articulated their wishes to accompany them, but Amos denied them, letting them know that their safety as well as the rest of the packs' was of utmost importance.

In all of that, Cyrus was an utter mess; he could hardly lift a finger, it seemed! As the rest of the crowd slowly tapered off, he hung back in the corner, trying to wrap his head around his new, depressing reality.

Noticing the fae's expression from the stage, Amos excused himself to approach Cyrus and place a hand upon his shoulder. "Look, I know you loved Mark and Lavinia … but you must be strong now. Do it for your pack, and remember what you are. Perhaps you can help to wipe some of our pain away … as well as your own. Either way,we're about to roll out. You should come with us. It's up to you, though. I'd totally understand if you didn't."

Cyrus shook his head in refusal, for he was on the verge of a breakdown. At a loss for how to phrase his extreme upset without crumbling altogether, the poor, devastated fae mustered a quiet nod in response then hurriedly put distance between the Hall and himself, morphing into a little brown bat in favor of soaring above the people who were slowly making their way back to the packhouse. He flew right into his cracked-open window and landed on the floor in the center of the room, then he morphed back into his human self, shut the window, drew the curtain, and double checked that his door was locked. Secure at last, he broke down in tears, finally able to r.elease that flood in private as opposed to in front of everyone else.

After that good cry, he wiped his eyes and blew his nose then decided to go sit in Mark and Lavinia's room for a bit of reflection. In a few moments' time, he'd lost most of his beloved family, the ones who'd taken him in and called him 'theirs' oh so long ago. His vow to the great, late alpha Obadiah – the vow he'd made swearing to protect the Cambridge family for as long as he should live – had fallen flat tonight, and he was riddled with guilt above everything else. For once, he should've intervened, but he just didn't!

Later on when he was finished, he wandered back to his own room and shut the door behind himself. Stripping naked, he trudged into the bathroom then climbed into the shower and rinsed the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night away, unbothered to stop the second flow of tears as they streamed freely down his cheeks. After that soul-jerking cry, he went through the motions of getting ready for bed, and once good to go, he dropped by his shelves with the intention of downing a larger dose of homemade sleep tonic than he should, but his train of thought derailed when there was a gentle knock at his door. Trying to compose himself, he jerked the thing open only to be greeted by Beta Amos, back at last from the search.

"I was just checking up on you, good sir," said the beta with genuine concern, sporting an expression to match. "How are you holding up?"

What a stupid question, spat the fae in his mind, the set of his features portraying his inner sentiments...even if only temporarily! Dialing back the attitude, he inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly. "I'm heading to bed and wish to be left alone," he answered, one hand gripping the knob tightly whilst the other one rested on the door frame. Whatever he was wanted or needed for certainly could and definitely would wait until, at the very least, morning came around.

"Understandable, brother," relented Amos with his hands raised in defense, then he backed up a couple of feet and added, "I thought I'd let you know that so far, so not-so-good on the search. The trails have been washed away with the rain. Anyway, I'm right down the hall should you need me." With that, he turned away and headed for the stairs but paused only six steps out. "Y'know, Cyrus...," he uttered slowly, then from over his shoulder, he met the fae's gaze and declared, "You really shouldn't beat yourself up over what happened tonight. None of it was your fault."

"Yeah … well … that's debatable. I should have been with them, Amos. Better yet, I should'a kept a better eye on Leila and put my foot down the moment I knew she intended to go after you guys. All I did was yell at her and do as I was told," Cyrus pointed out, the guilt he felt over the entire situation undeniable.

"Brother, she's always been a little on the headstrong side. You know that," Amos mentioned. "She was gonna do as she pleased, no matter who said what to her." Cyrus did know this, of course, for he had always regarded the girl as his wild-child, stubborn-in-her-own-ways little sister, and never once had he tried to correct her. Truth be told, only magic could've stopped her then, and he ultimately chose not to resort to that.

After a few additional parting words between the pair, Cyrus locked himself away then bolted for his shelves to grab his stout, homemade sleep tonic, and down the hatch a few generous swallows went. If he ended up sleeping for twenty-four hours straight because of them, it would be absolutely fine by him! He didn't just want that deep slumber to find him; he needed it to, and not even a half an hour later, that intense, undisturbed, sought-after sleep lulled him right into its iron grasp.