Vaguely, I felt my skin split and blood trickle down my arms, but didn’t stop.  The anguish of Ethan’s death consumed me and the lingering feel of the wolf’s hand inside my stomach blinded me to the world around me.

Something hit the back of my head.  It wasn’t a blow; it was an annoying slap.

I spun out with a kick and almost caught Carlos in the head.  He blocked just in time.  I flew through moves.  My blood sprayed him.  Faster and faster, I tried to kill the man before me.  Pain filled me, inside and out.

“He was mine,” I yelled at Carlos.  “I was supposed to keep him alive.”

I hit harder and kept pulling.  But there was nothing to pull.  Angry, I kept attacking Carlos.  A few times something on the ground almost tripped me.

Then, suddenly, I was empty.  I fell to my knees.  The pain of all my cuts and bruises were nothing compared to the hollow ache that existed inside of me.  I was nothing without Ethan.  I turned and saw him lying where I’d left him.  I crawled to him and laid my head on his chest.

“Since I first saw you in the play yard, you were my friend.  I loved you too much...but not enough.  I should have let you go.”

I let the pain take me away.

*    *    *    *

Everything hurt.  Especially the drag of a wet cloth over my arms.

“Ow,” I said without opening my eyes.  The word was thick and slurred.  “I think Brick hit me too hard.”

“Not Brick.”

The voice wasn’t familiar at first.  Then, everything came crashing back.  I moaned and pulled my arm from Carlos’ grasp.  A sob escaped me.

“Ethan...oh, God, why?”

An anguished cry filled the room, and I realized it was me.  Ethan.  Ethan was gone.  I started to fall apart all over again.  A hand settled on my head.

“I’m sorry, Isabelle.”

Wrapping my arms around myself, I curled into a ball.

“Go.”

“I can’t.”

He gently pried one arm away from my middle and started washing it again.  It didn’t seem to hurt anymore.  But, the pain from the hole in my chest consumed me.

While I cried, Carlos cleaned every gash, scrape, and tear.  Then, he left me to my tears.

*    *    *    *

The next time I woke, my head pounded.  Before I could start crying again, the bed moved.

“Here.”

I kept my eyes closed, uncaring what Carlos might be offering me.  I didn’t want anything except to be left alone.

“You should drink something.”

He smoothed a hand over my hair.  It almost comforted me.  But I wouldn’t let it.  I didn’t deserve comfort.  Ethan was dead.

The ache in my chest grew.

“You should go away,” I said.

The door closed, and I cried until I couldn’t anymore.  I laid there in numb silence, not thinking of anything; the past was too painful and my future nonexistent.  Eventually, I slept.

*    *    *    *

Loud voices woke me.

“We need to talk to her.”

“No.”  I recognized Bethi’s voice.  “You go in there now, pushing like you want to, you’ll either destroy her, or she’ll destroy you.”

“We can’t stay here.”  Impatience and frustration laced Winifred’s words.

“And you can’t push her to leave.”

Leave?  And go where?  New tears wet my cheeks.

“What are we supposed to do then?”

Bethi sighed.

“None of you understand.  I’ll talk to her.”

The door opened, then softly closed again.  A moment later, the bed dipped.  I didn’t want to talk, so I didn’t open my eyes.  It didn’t matter.  She didn’t leave.

Sorrow flooded the air as Bethi lay down beside me.  Her breath brushed my cheek, but she didn’t say anything.  Caving, I opened my eyes to look at her.

She was lying on her side, facing me.  Her face was pale, and the dark smudges under her eyes competed with the red puffiness.  Her exhaustion was a living thing.  Yet, I knew the concern she radiated wasn’t for herself, and it made my tears fall faster.

“Does anything hurt on the inside?  Organ-wise?”

She was smart to clarify; everything hurt on the inside.

“No.”  My voice was raspy and faint.  I didn’t sound like me.  I wasn’t me.

“Good.  I was worried about that.”

I didn’t ask why.  I didn’t want to know.  I didn’t care.  Nothing mattered anymore.

She reached over and gently touched my tear-streaked face.

“They haven’t suffered real loss yet.  None of them understand.”  She gave me a sad smile, then rolled her eyes.  “And now Luke’s scolding me.  They can hear what I’m saying.”

She sighed and shook her head as she tucked both her hands under her cheek.

“He and I have been through a lot together in just a short time.  I love him, and I know he loves me.  But he still doesn’t understand me, not like Ethan understood you.  It takes a lifetime for that, a lifetime you and Ethan had already shared.”

She searched my gaze, and I felt a surge of grief and fear from her before she pulled it back.

“I remember our past lives, Isabelle.  Each tragic one of them.  I’ve felt what you’re feeling, a pain so deep it’s hollowed me out and has left nothing good behind.  A pain that steals your breath and eats at your mind.”  Tears gathered in her eyes.  “I’ve felt it countless times, and I’m destined to feel it again when I remember your life.  I will love Ethan as you love him, and I will die on the inside when he dies.  I will never forget him.  But please, please, don’t make me suffer more than I need to when I relive your life.”

The tears ran across her cheek to wet her hands and pillow.

She truly understood my hell, and I pitied her for what she would have to remember because of this life.  I wrapped my arms around her, and she started crying in earnest.

“I think Ethan would hate what you’re doing now, and it’s killing me, too.”

I held her while she cried, too damaged to take her sorrow from her.

“Why, Bethi?  Why did they come after us?”  But the real question drilling through my mind was why Ethan had to die.

“Urbat are power hungry.  Blake knows that if he controls us, he might be able to influence the Judgement we make.  He wants his people to rule.”

Blake.

The hollowing pain shifted a little at her words, leaving room for me to feel something.

I’d seen his people, now, and knew what they were capable of.  Under Blake’s rule, how many more Ethans would die?

That empty space inside me expanded, and a hot ball of hate formed.

“No,” I said.  “Never.”

“Then we need to stop Blake.”  Her earnest gaze held mine.

A shaky exhale escaped me.  I didn’t want to keep fighting.  Look what my need to fight had caused.  I’d lost my only friend.  I should go home and tell Ethan’s dad he’d lost his son.  As soon as I had that thought, I realized the man probably wouldn’t care; and his indifference would cause me to do something I’d regret.  More tears slid down my cheeks.  Ethan and I...we’d really only had each other.

And now Ethan was gone.  If I wanted to keep Ethan’s death from being pointless, if I wanted to avenge him, I needed to stop Blake.

The hate inside me grew.

I would kill Blake, just as he’d killed Ethan.

*    *    *    *

After Bethi left, the others gave me solitude.  Though she hadn’t directly touched on the subject of the group’s need to keep moving, our conversation must have appeased them in some way.  That or they’d realized the truth in her words; if they pushed me, I’d push back.

With a broken sigh, I closed my eyes and slept some more.

When I woke with tears already wetting my cheeks, it was light outside.  How much time had passed?  A day?  Two?  How long had Ethan been gone, taken from me?  I hurt inside, but more than that, I hated.  I hated deeply.  And it was all mine.  In fact, I didn’t feel a single emotion around me.

Someone knocked on the door, startling me enough that the tears stopped.  I knew who it was.  Carlos.

“Come in.”  I didn’t sit up.  I didn’t look at the door.  I didn’t want to see him.  He’d pulled me back from the edge, and I wasn’t yet sure if I was thankful or angry about it.