Sash on the Cliff’s Edge

Owen Greystone’s pov

I went toward the cliff, staring into the depths below. The fall was startling, a steep drop that made my stomach twist. The river’s roar was loud, like blood pumping through veins. A strip of mint green sash caught my attention, hung torn on a jagged branch, flapping against the wind. 

Klaus’s mother came over, her gaze locking on the fabric. Her lips trembled. “Oh, that’s Ember’s dress!” she gasped, voice breaking. “My baby jumped. She’s truly gone.”  

She swayed, clutching her head. Klaus’s father caught her, his arms strong but his face pale with dread. She leaned into him, sobbing softly, her strength crumbling.

She was right. Ember's faint lavender scent on the cliff edge had faded completely. She had jumped. What a foolish human, she couldn't bear to handle one rejection. I’d never met anyone so fragile, yet her choice gnawed at me, stirring something I couldn’t name.

Klaus, usually so strong, looked lost, his eyes darting to the cliff’s edge. He didn’t try to comfort his mother; she was beyond soothing. Instead, he made his way down the cliff.

Nevertheless, I followed, not with hope for Ember, but out of fear. What if she had left something behind, like a message or a hint, pointing to me? In days, I would be Alpha. A leader who pushed a pack member to her demise? My father would have my hide and possibly strip me of the title. I would be humiliated before the pack and forced to apologise. The thought choked me.

We climbed down the cliff, rocks skittering underfoot. At the bottom, the ground was empty, no body or trace, just the river's never-ending torrent. I heaved a sigh of relief. The mint green sash was the only sign she had been here. Without it, we would have doubted she ever was. It was as if the earth had swallowed her, like some scary stories from my childhood. Ember was gone, permanently linked to this place.

Klaus's strength failed. Tears ran silently down his face. He didn’t sob, just stood there, shoulders shaking, staring at the water. I felt a pang in my stomach. I had done this. If I hadn’t rejected her, hadn’t hurt her with my words, she would still be alive. Klaus wouldn’t be falling apart, his parents wouldn’t be shattered.

"Hey, brother," I whispered. "Maybe... maybe she survived. "The water could have—" I paused. We both knew better. That height? That current? Even the strongest wolf would not be able to survive. Let alone someone like Ember. She didn’t stand a chance. I shivered at the thought. Her scent had faded; she might probably have been washed away or consumed by creatures downstream. Hours ago, she stood before me, accepting my rejection with a trembling voice. Now, she was no more.

Klaus didn’t answer; he just stared at the water. I stroked his shoulder, awkwardly, hating how heavy it felt. “We’ll keep looking,” I said, though the words tasted hollow.

We climbed back up, the silence between us heavy. Klaus’s parents waited, their faces hopeful for a heartbeat before they saw us. His mother’s eyes searched mine, then Klaus’s, and her hope was crushed. She buried her face in her hands, a howl tearing from her throat. Her body shook, and even her husband’s grip couldn’t calm her. 

I slipped away, guilt burning my throat. I couldn’t face her tears, her pain. If they knew I had pushed Ember to this, called her worthless, spat on her, they would hate me. Klaus, my best friend, would never forgive me. The pack would turn against me; my future as Alpha would be ruined. I had to bury this and erase any trace of my involvement in it.

We walked back to the pack house, heads down. My father met us, concern etched on his face. “Any news, Klaus?” he asked, voice heavy. As Alpha, he carried the pack’s safety on his shoulders, a burden I would soon inherit. I prayed he would never learn my little secret.

Klaus shook his head, unable to speak. His father had rallied the pack to search, every member scouring the woods for Ember. The full moon, meant for celebration, was cloaked in grief, all because of her. Part of me still thought she’d been right to leave; she had spared the pack future trouble. But the thought felt wrong now, bitter in my mouth.

“Father,” I whispered, leaning close, “let me check Ember’s room. There might be a clue.” I kept my voice calm, but my pulse raced. If my father, as wise as ever, sensed my guilt, I was done for.

“Go, you have my permission,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Show me you’re ready to lead.”

With ease, I entered Ember's room, heart racing. It was empty, clothes folded neatly, no diary, no notes, nothing to implicate me. She had left no trace, as if she had planned to go all along. Relief hit me, sharp and fleeting. She had been careful, at least in this.

Outside, voices rose, shouting her name. My fists clenched, anger rising. Even in death, she was stealing the pack’s peace, turning a night of joy into chaos. Why couldn’t she have chosen a quieter way to go?

The pack split into groups, fanning out through the woods. We searched every path, every clearing, but found nothing, no tracks, no scent, no sign. Hours passed, the moon climbed higher, and exhaustion settled over us like a fog.

The pack gathered in a circle, Klaus and his parents at the center. Their faces were ashen, eyes hollow. Klaus’s mother’s tears fell freely now, her husband’s arm around her, his own face tight with pain. They had loved Ember like their own, raising her with care despite her lack of a wolf. And I’d taken her from them.

Regret clawed at me again, more piercing now. I shook my head, trying to push away her face, those wide, hurt eyes as I’d rejected her. She had chosen this, hadn’t she? One rejection shouldn’t have broken her. But deep down, I knew better. My words, my cruelty, had driven her to that cliff. I glanced at the river’s final crimp, which disappeared around the corner. She wouldn't have made it through this.

I followed my father as he approached Klaus’s parents; they had lost a family member whom they so much cherished. “We’ll keep searching,” he said, “She was one of us.” Klaus’s father nodded, his mother choked on a sob, clinging to him. 

We stood there comforting the family. Ember was no more, and I’d made it happen. I know I wanted her gone, but not this way. Not with Klaus’s tears, his mother’s cries, the pack’s sorrow. I had wanted to be Alpha, strong and respected, but now I felt small, a coward hiding behind lies.