Mated To An Enemy



As soon as they had stepped out into the garden, Ashleigh had pulled away from Corrine.

“I can’t,” she whispered as she hurried behind a large pillar.

Her heartbeat had grown louder in her ears with each step they had taken, her lungs felt like they had shrunk, and her chest ached.

Corrine followed her, looking around to make sure no one saw them. She looked carefully at Ashleigh.

She could see clearly that Ashleigh was on the verge of breaking down and running.

“Ashleigh,” she whispered. “I understand, and you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

Ashleigh swallowed and looked at Corrine.

“I don’t?” she whispered.

Corrine shook her head.

“Everyone would understand if you didn’t,” she said gently.

Ashleigh felt her panic begin to ease. She licked her lips and glanced back around the corner. The gathering of people was massive. In the distance, she could see the pyre and a small stage. Her heart began to race again, and she turned back, closing her eyes.

“I want to go,” she said. “I don’t want to be here.”

Corrine reached out and took Ashleigh’s hands.

“If that is what you want,” she said, “I will take you back to my room.”

Ashleigh took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed. “Please.”

Corrine gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

“I understand,” she said. “But, before we go, I want you to think for just a moment… it will be difficult to stay, but are you sure you won’t regret leaving?”

Ashleigh opened her eyes.

She had felt relieved when Corrine had given her the option to leave, but now, the panic was edging in again. She didn’t want to stay. She didn’t want to hear the words they would say or see the tears they would shed. She couldn’t stand by as they proclaimed that Caleb was dead. As they decided he would never return.

But could she really just leave?

Ashleigh clenched her jaw. She leaned her head against the pillar and bit down on her bottom lip as she felt the unbearable heat in her chest and the burn of her eyes as the tears returned.

“Do you want to go?” Corrine asked softly.

Ashleigh took a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes. She shook her head hesitantly.

“Okay,” Corrine replied with a nod. She moved her hands to Ashleigh’s arms, rubbing them gently. “We’ll stay. But just because we are here doesn’t mean you must talk to anyone.”

Ashleigh looked at her mother. She smiled and nodded.

After giving Ashleigh a few minutes to gather herself, Corrine led her carefully around the back of the crowd. A few people saw them, but they seemed to understand that they wanted to be alone.

Eventually, they found a spot to witness the vigil from a small balcony above the crowd. Someone would have to go out of their way to look up at them to know they were there.

After a short time, Corrine excused herself promising to return once she had paid her respects and let Axel know they had arrived. Ashleigh hesitated to be left alone but didn’t stop her mother from going.

Not long after Corrine left, Ashleigh caught movement on the stage. She swallowed as she watched Galen and Fiona step up in front of the crowd.

She felt a heaviness settling over her body as Fiona called the crowd's attention. She welcomed them and thanked them for coming.

It was really happening.

Ashleigh grabbed hold of the railing before her. Her legs felt shaky as she listened to Fiona speak.

“It is our custom, our tradition, to light the pyre and let it burn through the night. Into the morning or even the day, however long it lasts. We do not quench the flames, nor do we abandon them."

Fiona paused. She took a breath and lifted her eyes over the crowd. Somehow, they found their way up to Ashleigh.

“This is how we honor the one we have lost.”

The words were like a blow to Ashleigh’s chest. She let out an uneven breath as her lungs squeezed and her heart pounded in her ears. She clenched her jaw but didn’t look away.

With a mournful sigh, Fiona turned, looking at the pyre filled with pictures, letters, and objects. Each one was a gift to or from Caleb. A memory, a piece of him that touched someone else’s life.

“We burn the body and relics of the life they lived to guide them to the Goddess's open arms. To light the path and send along the memories and warmth they have shared with us.”

Fiona swallowed, her fingers gently touching the item she held tightly. It was a photograph. One of the few that existed of the four of them together.

Cain was always so busy. And cheerful and playful as he was, he always avoided having his picture taken. He had told her long ago that he preferred to be behind the camera, capturing her experience and reliving the moment in her eyes.

‘But isn’t it easier to remember what you were feeling if you can see your own expressions?’ she had asked.

Cain smiled at her, leaning in close.

‘There is a reason that all of my pictures are of you,’ he whispered. ‘Your joy, your excitement… that is what I want to remember. That is the memory that I hold on to.’

His voice in her memory still warmed her heart.

While he was alive, Fiona had found this sentimental affection endearing. But when he left this world, that lovely quality had become a source of pain as she was left with so few pictures of him to look back on.

The image she held in her hand was a copy. She couldn’t bear to part with the original.

The picture itself was a rare occurrence, but it was unique in another way. It had been taken just before Caleb left for his time in the human world.

Not only was it one of the last pictures of all of them together, but it was also the last time Caleb had been willing to celebrate his birthday.

She glanced down at their smiling faces gathered around a small cake. The edges of her mouth curled upward in a slight smile.

Eight years to the day.

“He would be twenty-six years old today,” Fiona said.

Ashleigh’s eyes widened on the balcony, and her heart sank at the realization that today was Caleb’s birthday.

‘Maybe, next year, we can celebrate together.’

Ashleigh covered her mouth and closed her eyes as her composure fell at the memory of his words. She fought hard to stay quiet, to keep her sobs as silent as she could.

That was the promise. They would celebrate this year. This birthday. But instead, she was attending his vigil.