14

~Alaya

No one knows how to answer my question, it seems, as it knocks them all into silence.

"Fine," I mutter, folding my arms across my chest defiantly. "I want to speak to Alpha Asher."

It is Death who stands, striding over to stand beside Aspen. She's the strangest looking female I have ever seen in my life. Her eyes are like a haze of smoke rippling up the side of a mountain. It curls around her pupils vividly, stealing my ability to see any sense of emotion she gives me. It's mystical. It's daunting.

"You can't speak to him right now," she says. Her voice isn't warm and welcoming, it's cold and distant. She clearly wants to be elsewhere right now, rather than dealing with me.

Death is another classic example of myth no one ever really believed as kids. My father used to tell me, before he died, that when the inevitable happens