Hey, everyone! Here it is. The winning entry of the creative writing contest. @MissPoultryQueen has done an excellent capturing the emotions of Izzy. Enjoy.

Chapter Forty: Grief

{Izzy's Point of View}

I look down to the beautiful and bouncing baby boy that rests carefully in my arms. My eyes connect with his and an overwhelming sense of love and pride surges through me. Little Preston's sparkling gray eyes, that match my own, stare curiously up at me. A grin finds its way onto my lips.

"You're such a beautiful little boy," I coo out to him. At this, a tiny gurgling sound comes from him that makes me laugh.

"Do you agree with me, then?" I ask him curiously. He smiles up at me, his pink gums showing. "I'll take that as a yes." I let one of my fingers softly stroke his cheek, and suddenly his little hand wraps itself around my finger until it's in the form of a fist. My heart melts at the small gesture.

"He loves you very much, Isabella. I can see it by the way he is acting with you," I hear my mother say from my left. I turn to face her with a smile.

"Do you think so?" I ask her and let my gaze drift down towards the youngest of my two little brothers.

"No, I don't think so. I know so," she says to me. I kiss Preston gently on the top of his forehead.

"Well, guess what? I love you, too, little brother," I say to him and draw him closer to my chest in a protective manner.

My mother and I sit silently together, simply being content with watching Preston. As I look at him, my thoughts begin to wander. Will I ever have a child of my own? Will a family ever be in the cards for me? Or am I just fooling myself? Will Logan ever even consider being with me, let alone having children with me, after the loss of his first mate?

As soon as Logan comes to mind, I can tell my wolf is trying to surface. She misses her mate and is worried for his wellbeing. We didn't exactly part on happy terms, but we had to leave because my mother was going into labor and we knew we had to be there for her. Leaving him alone in that hospital bed was torturous, but there was absolutely nothing we could do about it.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" she asks me knowingly, breaking me out of my reverie of the previous day.

"Thinking about who?" I ask with scrunched eyebrows and turn back around to look at her.

"Logan," she says instantaneously. At the mention of his name out loud, I can feel my cheeks begin to warm up.

"Yes. How did you know?" I ask, opting not to hide anything from her. She smiles at me.

"I knew because I got that same look when I first met your father. I still do, now," she answers me.

At the mention of my father, my good mood sours. As soon as I stepped foot onto my father's land, he had some of his mutts on me, making sure I didn't do anything that he considered being out of line. They escorted me back to the pack house where my mother was being cared for by the pack doctor and never left my side until my father came and retrieved me to see my newborn baby brother. Preston was the only thing that kept me from lashing out at my father's harsh treatment as if I was some rabid dog that couldn't contain herself.

Ever since my arrival, my father has locked himself in his office. That is fine with me, though. I could have next to nothing to do with the man, and I wouldn't care. He doesn't deserve my time or respect, and I don't plan just to bow down to his every command because he believes me to be inferior to him. I will not let him humiliate me like that.

"He's just worried about Eric. That's all. He does love and care for you, even if you don't believe it," my mother says in my father's defense. I don't buy into any of it, though, and instead, become even more bitter at the thought of a lost and possibly hurt Eric.

"So, that's why he had a bunch of his filthy mutts on me from the word go?" I spit out at her, my pent up anger slowly returning to me.

"Isabella, I will not tolerate that attitude from you. Your father was only following certain security measures to ensure the safety of the pack," my mother tries to explain to me once more, her tone coming out a little harsher than before.

"He was following certain security measures? I'm his daughter for the Goddess's sake! You've got to be kidding me," I say lowly, venom lacing my voice.

"Isabella, that is enough! Your father has a reason for all of the choices that he makes. You do not need to question them," my mother hisses at me. I glower at her.

"I don't need to question them? That's all you have to say to me after everything that's happened between us all?" I growl out angrily to her.

If it isn't for the soft whimpers coming from my brother and his slight squirming, I'd completely lose it with my mother. She has no right to say that to me! Thank the Goddess for giving me Preston as my saving grace.

"I think I should be going. I have a long day ahead of me, as I plan to check up on Logan tomorrow," I say to my mother, standing up from the chair beside her hospital bed and cautiously handing over a now calmed down Preston.

"Very well," she replies curtly to me. After passing Preston off to her, I exit out of her room and make my way to my old bedroom that is still intact.

I open the door to my room and walk inside, closing the door behind me. I take in everything and notice that my things are exactly how I left them the first time that I went away. My bed still has my black and white polka-dot comforter adorning it and my maroon red curtains are drawn together in front of my window. A bookshelf filled with books upon books takes up a significant portion on the right side of the wall and the left side there is my desk with my rolling swivel chair tucked under it. It looks exactly the same as before.

My eyes catch a hold of a picture frame sitting on the dresser that stands beside my bed. It showcased a picture of my family when I was fourteen, and Eric was ten. Our parents stand behind us, broad smiles on their faces. We all looked joyful and comforted to be in the presence of one another. How old and misguiding the picture is.

I look away from the picture and go in the direction of my adjoined bathroom. I open the door to it and go inside. Everything in here is the same as before, too. I open up one of the cupboard doors and take down a towel and washcloth, deciding that a nice hot shower is definitely a necessity.

I turn on the faucet and let the water heat up. While I wait, I undress and run a hand through my hair. I check the temperature of the water and after deciding that it's warm enough for me, I climb in. The water works wonders against my bare skin, warming it and loosening my tense muscles. The stress from the past several days starts to seep away as I scrub my body clean. Once I wash my hair and finish bathing, I turn off the water and step out of the shower. I dry myself off and throw my hair back into the towel, exiting the bathroom after I brush my teeth.

I go to my clothes dresser and take out an oversized t-shirt and a pair of very short shorts. I slip on the minimal amount of clothing and then climb into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. My eyes train themselves on the ceiling and my thoughts race. I can't help thinking about Logan and hoping he's doing alright back at his pack house in that horrible hospital bed. I fall asleep with thoughts of Logan consistently penetrating my mind.

~*~

The next morning I get up early and get ready for the day that lies ahead. I get dressed and put on a very light and sparkly coat of eyeshadow, then add just enough mascara to outline my eyes. I take my dried hair out of the damp towel and throw it in the dirty clothes hamper in my room. I brush through my naturally wavy hair and glance in the mirror. As silly as it is, I find myself wanting to impress Logan just the slightest bit, and I figure that this will have to do.

Once I'm all ready to go, I leave my old bedroom and head out into the hallway. I walk to the long spiraled staircase and make my descent. When I reach the bottom, I'm surprised to see my father and his Beta standing there. My father eyes me before he begins to explain his reasoning for no longer hiding away in his office.

"Your mother informed me that you wish to go to Alpha Blackwell's pack today," he says, getting straight to the point.

"Yes, that is correct," I tell him, not becoming intimidated by his high and mighty aura.

"You may do as you wish. I only have one condition," my father informs me. I raise an eyebrow in his direction.

"What is this one condition?" I ask him, folding my hands together in front of me.

"You are to be escorted to the border of my pack land and Alpha Blackwell's territory by two of my patrolmen. If you are of any inconvenience to them, you will no longer be welcomed back into this pack. Do you understand?" he asks me, and it takes everything in me not to growl at him.

"Perfectly," I tell him, my voice dripping with a burning hatred for him. The only reason I even comply with this blasphemous demand is that I don't want to leave Preston here alone with a couple of off-their-rocker parents.

"Wonderful. I knew you wouldn't be of any hassle," my father says victoriously. What a waste of space he is.

I briskly turn away from the two men and go in the direction of the front door of the pack house. I reach my hand out and take hold of the doorknob and twist it open. Just as I step one foot out of the front door, I'm swarmed by two bulking men. I restrain myself from rolling my eyes and start to close the door behind me. Before I'm able to do this, I can hear my father's voice from inside the house. I reopen the door enough to peek inside.

"Oh, and Isabella? When you get to your dear Alpha Blackwell, tell him that I said we are coming for him. Nothing can hold us back, now," he says sinisterly with a sadistic smile on his face. The threat sends my wolf into a frenzy and before I can stop myself, I'm face to face with my father, my fingernails elongated into claws and my fangs bared.

"Is that a threat?" I ask him, my voice coiling with pure rage and fury. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my father's Beta take a step in our direction, getting ready to intercept whatever might happen between the two of us.

"No, it's not a threat. It's simply, what's going to happen, and there will be nothing you can do to stop it," he says, his voice coming out cool and matter-of-factly. I snap my jaw and drive my father back into the wall, my right hand grabbing the collar of his red dress shirt.

"I've had enough of you and your games. You've done the unimaginable to this family and me, and I'm finished with it. I will not stand to be called the daughter of such a miserable and filthy mutt like yourself. Logan has done you no harm, so you should do none to him. I will fight for him and the people I care for, over you and your dogs any day," I tell him and let my claws begin to dig into the sensitive flesh of his chest ever so slightly to get my point across and say, "Mark my words, father. I will never let you lay one of your dirty paws on Logan, so long as I shall live. You can hurt me and try to break me, but you will never stand a chance of harming Logan or his pack. I will not let you," I finish and slowly let my claws retract back to normal.

I take a step back from my seemingly stunned father and look around at the three other men. They all look to me with slightly fearful, and somewhat curious, eyes. Their necks are all on display for me, and it's only then that I realize my Alpha lineage worked to my advantage. They all show their sign of submission, and it makes my wolf stir with a sense of pride and power. I look back to my father who is yet to utter another word.

"Goodbye, father," I say with such a finality in my tone that there is no questioning what this goodbye really means.

I walk away from the pack house, in the direction of Logan's territory. I never look back, even though a part of me wants to rush back, snatch Preston away from our insane parents, and never return. Instead of doing what I would like to do, I focus my attention on the matter at hand, and my already hazy thoughts become even more blurred.

Is Logan doing alright? Should I have left him alone for this long when I knew he was ill? Should I have left him at all? Is he going to be mad at me for leaving him? If he is, will he understand why I did it and forgive me? Will he ever feel the same way I do for him? Or, am I never going to be good enough to compete with the ghost that is Olivia Blackwell?

These questions eat away at me, and it only gets worse the closer I get to Logan's pack house. I can feel my wolf stir in delight at the prospect of getting to be reunited with her mate again, but my feelings are ones of guilt. How could I have left him like that? I should have been there for him. I'm sure he would've been there for me.

I make it to the edge of my father's territory and cross over into Logan's. It feels as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders as soon as I do. It's like I can turn to the next page in the story and I come upon a new chapter. A new chapter that doesn't include my deceitful and unruly parents. One that hasn't been foretold yet and that is entirely my own. It feels nice to be able to put the past behind me, if only for a moment.

I continue the trek through the woods to Logan's pack house, and my thoughts continue to jumble together in a monstrous pile of anxiety. Once I can see the gates of the pack house come into view, my mind kicks into overdrive and my nerves go haywire. How in the world am I going to be able to face him?

I get to the gates and am met with one of Logan's fighters. He eyes me up and down and takes in a deep whiff of the air. His eyes widen in surprise, but he simply nods his head and opens the gates, letting me inside. I nod my head back at him and keep going. When I get to the steps leading to the front door of the pack house, I find myself letting out a silent groan.

"Why, if it isn't little Izzy. How good to see you again," Logan's Beta, Griffin, greets me sarcastically. Since it's him, I roll my eyes freely.

"Hello, dog. I'm afraid I can't say the same for you," I greet sweetly back to him, a fake smile on my face. He growls lowly at the small jab.

"You know, if you weren't the mate to Lover Boy in there, I would've gotten rid of you a long time ago," he tells me. I nod my head at the statement.

"Likewise. If Logan weren't best friends with you, I wouldn't have minded tearing you apart by now," I say and meet Griffin on the top step. He scoffs at this idea.

"Oh, please. You wouldn't stand a chance against me," he says proudly, causing me to snarl at him.

"You underestimate me, dog," I tell him and open the front door of the pack house. I walk inside, and Griffin follows my lead.

"I suppose you would like to know if Lover Boy is awake?" Griffin asks me as we walk in the direction of Logan's hospital room. I nod my head at him.

"That would be preferable," I say, keeping my head held high and my gaze set directly in front of me. Griffin lets out a sigh that can only be from exhaustion, surprising me somewhat, so I turn my head to face him.

"Is everything okay? Logan did wake up," I say and pause for just a beat, "He did. Didn't he?" I ask worriedly. My worry grasps Griffin's attention and he quickly nods his head in confirmation that he did, in fact, wake up. I let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Then what's with the long face? What's going on, Griffin?" I ask him, using his first name because this seems like a severe matter. He looks me in the eye before telling me what he is thinking.

"Logan woke up within the first twenty-four hours that he was passed out. Everything seemed okay. Well, if you consider him practically begging someone to tell him where you were at being okay," he says and pauses for just a second, giving me time to process what he is telling me. At the mention of Logan wondering where I was, I can feel the tremendous amount of guilt sinking further into me, but there is also a stir of affection for him choosing to wonder about me when he was the one that was actually hurt.

"I don't understand what the problem is. Can't you take the fact that he wishes to be with me moreover you all of the time?" I ask and smirk at the growl he lets out.

"First of all, that isn't true. I think he was just delirious from the medication he was given," he tells me, and I scoff, "Second of all, that's not the point I'm trying to get at." I raise an eyebrow in his direction.

"Then what's the point, Wolf Boy?" I ask, coming up with a new nickname on the spot. He shoots me a glare as we continue walking.

"The point is that your precious Lover Boy can no longer communicate with the rest of the pack through the mind-link," he says, annoyed. His words capture my attention.

"What do you mean he can no longer communicate with the pack?" I ask, concern clear in my voice. If Logan can't communicate with the rest of the pack, there is no way he can call for backup if my father attacks.

"Doc Havers thinks that with the swelling in Logan's brain, it caused the mind-link to no longer be of use. His hope, though, is that once all of the swelling goes away Logan's ability to communicate with the rest of us will come back," he explains to me.

"And if it doesn't?" I ask, knowing there is always the frightening possibility that it won't. Griffin looks to me with nothing short of fear pooling in his eyes.

"I don't know. We will just have to cross that bridge once we get there," he says, and I nod my head in understanding. We make it to Logan's room and just as Griffin turns to open the door he stops and says something to me.

"Maybe you can get him out of the pity party that he decided to throw for himself," Griffin says to me. I don't reply as he opens the door for me to go inside. I expect him to follow behind me, but he does nothing of the sort. He instead closes the door behind him, leaving me alone in the room with Logan.

Upon my arrival, I can see Logan's facial expression turn from one of annoyance to one of surprise. Neither of us speak, but we rather just look each other in the eye, assessing the other for any harm or damage that might've occurred during our absence from one another. The smallest of smiles takes shape on my face as we continue this, but then the guilt creeps up on me again. Logan seems to notice this, and it causes it to double.

"Logan, I'm so sorry. I never should've left you here alone. You have no idea how badly I wanted to stay with you, but my mother had the baby, and I had to be with her. I was hoping to get back before you woke up. Again, I'm sorry," I blurt out all of a sudden. It was like all of the guilty thoughts I was thinking came spewing out. I can feel myself blushing at this very boisterous way of apologizing for my absence.

"There is no apologies necessary, Izzy. You did what you had to do. I'm not angry," he says with a kind smile on his face. I return it, but when I do, his facial expression turns to one of pure guilt. This piques my curiosity. What would Logan have to feel guilty for? I was the one who left in the first place.

"Is something the matter?" I ask him. His shoulders tense together, and a feeling of uneasiness settles itself in the air. This sets my wolf and me on edge.

"Did anyone tell you how I wound up in this Goddess forsaken bed?" he asks me hesitantly. I nod slowly, not quite sure how in depth he meant the explanation to be.

"I remember something was mentioned about a rogue attack before you got sick and passed out," I say to him. He nods his head solemnly.

"That is true, but there is more to the story. I don't think anyone had informed you before you left, and I got sick," he says.

"No, they did not. What's the rest of the story?" I question him curiously. The uneasiness that was introduced into the room only moments ago grows stronger.

"Before the rogue attack took place, I had left the pack house in an attempt to scout the area for your missing brother. I took a man by the name of Brandon with me. He was the best tracker this pack had ever had the pleasure of coming across," he begins to say, but before he can continue, I cut him off.

"Why do you use the word had? Did something happen to him?" I wonder aloud.

"He gave his life for my own. He protected me against the rogues that attacked," Logan answers. My breath catches at the idea of Logan possibly being killed, and the only feeling that now comes to mind at the mention of Brandon is an immense gratefulness.

"How did the rogues come into play?" I ask after a minute of silence.

"Brandon caught onto the scent of the young she-wolves that had gone missing and went after them. I followed him, and we quickly approached two of the three girls that had went missing. Rogues were with them," he says. He messages his temples and lets out a deep and tired sigh. I would like to comfort him but now doesn't seem like the appropriate time. "Eric was also with them." As soon as he says this, dread consumes me. The complete stillness of the room doesn't help my agonized thinking come to an end. Once I realize he's not going to speak any more until I tell him to, I ask the question that I wish I can avoid.

"What happened to Eric?" I ask him. All of a sudden, the guilty look he was giving me makes sense.

"There were four rogues. I thought if I held three of them off that Eric and the two girls could run away from the rest of them while they were distracted. The youngest girl just wasn't fast enough, so Eric went back to help her. He managed to kill off the rogue, but the others soon caught on to what happened," he tells me, confirming what I already assumed he was going to say. My heart plummets down to my feet, and a void seems to take its place.

"Izzy, I'm so sorry about your brother. If I fought harder, maybe I could've saved him. I know whatever I say won't mean anything to you because it can't bring him back, but know that he died a hero. He saved that girl," he tells me. I can feel tears building up in the back of my eyes, and they begin to sting, but the uncomfortableness of the feeling doesn't compare to what I'm feeling about the loss of my brother.

I should have been there to help fight off the rogues, then maybe I'd have both of my brothers with me and not one of them buried six feet under. Had I been there to help, maybe there would be the opportunity of Eric becoming Alpha of our father's pack and he could have changed it for the better. Maybe he could have talked to him and negotiated with him to leave Logan's pack alone. Maybe things could have been different, but now no one will ever know.

I get taken out of my guilty and grief-stricken thoughts by Logan. I look to him and see him begin to advance towards me, in an attempt to comfort me with a hug, but on impulse, I take a step backward in the opposite direction. Hurt and the hopelessness of the situation seems to dawn on him if the flash of a look on his face indicates anything, but I can't find myself making a move to be comforted by him. I know if I let him, it'll most likely end up with me in a teary-eyed and bawling, disastrous fit and that is the last thing I want to happen if Logan's around, mate or not. I won't show vulnerability and have it seen as a sign of weakness.

"Where is he? If I'm able to, I'd like to see him," I say to Logan, almost robotically. Logan's features become sullen, but he nods his head anyhow with a soft, comforting smile on his face.

"Of course, you can see him. He is down below in our underground levels. It is where we keep all of our deceased until the family decides a better form of tribute and remembrance for them," Logan explains quietly, "Just let me call for Asher."

Logan does what he says, but I take notice of the changes that take place. No longer can Logan use the mind-link to call for Asher like what Griffin said. Instead, he calls for a nurse over the help button that is on his bed and she goes to retrieve Asher, although the confusion is evident on her face. I can infer that very few people in the pack actually know what is really going on with Logan and why he has to take extra steps to communicate with other wolves in his pack.

The room is left in a dead and dreary silence. Neither Logan nor I make the motion to strike up a conversation, so we are left with only our thoughts as a place of refuge. I can tell that Logan wishes to get a reaction from me, but I know that it would not be in my favor if I gave him one. I choose to simply allow the silence stretch on and much too soon. I hear the door to Logan's hospital room open up and am met with a stress-ridden Asher.

"Did you need something, Logan?" Asher asks him.

"Asher, will you please take Izzy to see her brother," he says back to him, though, it doesn't come out as an order, but rather a friend asking a friend for a favor. Asher nods his head.

Asher turns to me and sends a sympathetic smile in my direction. I return the gesture with a minute smile of my own, but I have a feeling that it isn't convincing in the slightest. He opens the door to Logan's room for me, and as soon as it is all the way open, I step out into the hallway. After a moment, he closes the door behind him and starts to guide me in the direction of where I presume Eric's body is being kept.

Asher leads me to a large wooden door, and he pulls it open. The hinges of the door are very old-looking and are rusty and let out an eerie creak. I see a winding staircase leading downwards into a lightly illuminated room. I glance over to Asher, and he gives me a nod of his head in reassurance. I take to the stairs, and Asher follows behind me silently. We get to the bottom, and my stomach begins to churn in horror.

Large, closed-lidded coffins are scattered around the room. The smell of the room registers with my heightened senses and the stench cause my wolf to stir restlessly in disdain. The air in the room feels moist and damp. My wolf suddenly feels an odd pull towards one of the nicer coffins, and I find myself slowly and cautiously moving in that direction.

The first thing that catches my attention when I reach it is the name inscribed on the lid of the coffin. Eric Phillips. My chest tightens as my eyes scan over it, and I can feel the immense buildup of tears in the lids of my eyes. I place my left hand atop the inscription and let a few of the tears fall down my cheeks. I can feel the presence of Asher behind me before he speaks.

"He, quite obviously, meant a great deal to you. Didn't he?" Asher asks me gently. I bring my right hand to my face and hurriedly wipe the tears away, but to my great annoyance, a few more take their place. Giving up on even bothering with it, I turn to face Asher and nod my head.

"He was my little brother. We used to fight with each other all of the time, but we still loved each other, and he meant the absolute world to me. He was the closest family member I have ever had," I explain and am pleasantly surprised that my voice didn't crack. Asher pauses for a second as if deciding what to say next.

"My parents never had another child after me, but from what I can see, you and Eric must've been extremely close. I know I'm not going to be of any help in this situation, but I do think the acts of your brother were very noble, and he deserves an enormous amount of respect for that. Our pack will never forget that he gave up his life to save one of our own," he says with such sincerity in his voice that I find myself biting my bottom lip to keep it from quivering with saddened tears.

"Thank you, Asher. Eric would've appreciated it," I murmur, not trusting my voice to keep from wavering.

"Think nothing of it. Eric deserved so much more in life than what he was offered," Asher replies, his eyes looking past me and towards Eric's closed coffin.

"That he did," I say and let my gaze wander towards Eric's coffin, too.

A quiet silence envelopes around us as tears continuously stream down my cheeks. Asher says nothing, simply letting me mourn the death of my brother to myself and being a supportive shadow. After several minutes of this and me recalling memory after memory of my brother and me when we were children, I turn towards Asher with a watery smile on my face and take in a deep breath and let it out through my nose. I nod my head at him to say that I'm ready to go.

"Would you like me to take you to an empty guest room to rest in?" he asks me. I look expectantly at him.

"Would you, please?" I ask him. He nods his head with a smile.

"Of course. You can follow me," he instructs and turns around, heading back in the direction that we came from. I start to follow, but once I think Asher is out of hearing range, I cast one final glance in the direction of Eric's coffin.

"Goodbye, for now, baby brother. I know I'll see you again one day. Know that I'll always keep you in my heart, and I'll love you forever," I whisper into the dimly lit room. Knowing that I won't get any reply, I turn back around and wipe away the remainder of my tears. I never look back as I follow the path that Asher took up the stairs.

Once I reach the top, Asher closes the door behind me, and it is as if a part of my heart closed off with the door. I feel numb to the touch as Asher leads me to one of their pack's spare rooms. A hollow emptiness engulfs me, and the urge to curl up into a tight ball and fall asleep becomes more evident the longer we continue to walk. My eyes burn and sting from my crying, and I wouldn't be surprised if they're an ugly red in color. My throat feels dry like a cotton ball is lodged in it. My whole body feels tired, and my mood is gloomy.

We make it up another flight of stairs and down a long hallway. We come to a door at the very end of the hallway on the right-hand side. Asher reaches out and twists the knob, pulling it open for me. I step inside the room and turn around to face Asher.

"Thank you for taking me to Eric," I say, grateful that I was granted that closure with my brother. He nods his head, and his lips curve up just a smidgen in a smile.

"It was my pleasure, Izzy. I truly am sorry about what happened to your brother. No one deserves to go like that," he tells me. I nod my head.

"No, they don't. Thank you again, Asher. You have no idea how much it means to me," I say to him.

"No problem. If you find that you need something more, don't hesitate to call for me," he says.

"Okay. I will be sure to keep that in mind," I say. We fall silent, so I start to turn away from Asher to go further into the room. Before I get too far, his voice stops me.

"Oh, and Izzy," he calls out to me. I turn back around to face him with a questioning look on my face.

"Yes?" I inquire, not sure what he needs to say to me further. His eyes shine with an excited glint in them and also a look of knowledgeable accountability.

"Whether or not it means anything to you, or whether you and Logan choose to make the fact that you are mates known to other people, I just want to let you know that I can see how much he cares and worries for you. Having found my mate myself, I know what the feeling of having a mate is like. It is absolutely indescribable. Logan hasn't acted like his old self since Olivia passed and now I'm slowly starting to see glimpses of the old Alpha and friend I once knew. I just wanted to say thank you for that," he says. His speech causes my wolf to yip and howl in surprised pleasure and me to let a true smile adorn my face.

"I think us meeting each other has done both of us some good. I'm beginning to realize that maybe not every Alpha I come into contact with is bad," I say. He grins in what looks to be a triumphant way.

"I'm glad you think that. Remember, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call me," he says, starting to step out of the doorway and back into the hallway.

"I won't. Thank you, Asher," I say to him. He waves his hand in dismissal.

"Don't worry about it. See you in a little while, Izzy," he says. I nod my head at him.

"See you later, Asher," I say and with that final goodbye, he closes the guest room door, and I'm left alone to myself.

Being alone makes the feeling of a deep loneliness come back in full force. I want to cry, but there are no more tears left to be shed. Instead, I spot a little wicker rocking chair in the corner of the room by the bed. I walk over to it and take a seat, drawing my knees up to my chest. I rest my chin on them and close my eyes. My train of thought switches back to Eric and my chest becomes achy.

I recall so many of the times that we would fight and cause trouble, but in the end, we would always make up with one another and be the best of friends. Now, I come to the realization that we'll never get anymore of those moments together, and I manage to let a single tear roll down my cheek and a quiet whimper escape my lips. So many thoughts bounce around in my mind, but they never settle on just one.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of something bright and blinding. I try to ignore it, but it only becomes brighter. Deciding to see what it is, I raise my chin and see a thin strip of sunlight peeking through the curtain by the rocking chair I'm sitting in. It runs in front of the chair and under the bed. Slowly, I stand up and go to the window.

I pull back the curtains and the sight before me, makes my breathing stop for a moment. The sun is high in a clear blue sky and sparkles against it. A vast forest stretches across Logan's pack land in dark browns and greens. A meadow of wildflowers is visible from where I'm perched above everything. Then, there is the pack house and small homes scattered throughout. The sight looks radiantly stunning.

As I stand here, looking at the beauty of the forest, the answer to the question I didn't even know I was wondering presents itself before me. Eric wouldn't want me to be like this.

If I honestly knew my oldest little brother, he would've been the first one in this situation to have cracked a joke and help pull others back up on their feet with a strong and loving hand. He would've wanted changes to happen for the better, and he'd want me to move on from what happened with my head held high. He wouldn't have wanted his death to be in vain. He would've wanted it to be seen as a proven point that one person can make a difference and we ought to try.

"Thank you, little brother. You always know how to cheer me up," I say to no one in particular, looking up to the sky. When I do this, I swear that the already bright sun brightens even more, and a grin shapes itself on my lips.

My mind is made up. I will take Eric's body back to the pack as he would've wanted me to and I will stand up to our father, and I won't back down. I'm going to put an end to him. Once and for all.

~~~~~~~Author's Note~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you all enjoyed that as much as I did. Make sure you check out @MissPoultryQueen profile page and give her entry a vote and let her know how much you liked her take on Izzy's POV.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/64186254-living-with-loss-contest-entry

Congrats Michaela!