CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Exactly six months had passed since Zahra's death, but that wasn't the only thing that marked the passing of time for Quil. It had also been half a year since he had last touched the ocean water, the same water that had once been a place of solace, connection, and memories.

Since Zahra's death, the beach had become a place of pain, and he had avoided it like the plague. He couldn't bring himself to return to the cliffs where they had once laughed and played, to the waves that had once welcomed them both with open arms.

The memories of her flooded him every time he neared the shore, memories of love and loss, of moments that could never be recreated. For months, Quil had refused to even think about the beach, let alone visit it. He had distanced himself from everything that reminded him of Zahra. The cliffs were a place of joy, but now, they felt like a place of torment. Every rock, every stretch of sand, every wave crashing against the shore seemed to whisper her name, and Quil had been too afraid to face it.

But deep down, he knew he couldn't keep running forever. He couldn't let grief control him. He had to face it. He had to confront his past, no matter how much it hurt. It wasn't just about him anymore; it was about healing, about learning to live without her and learning to carry her memory in a way that didn't break him.

It was the weekend, and he had a rare day off from patrols. The pack had agreed to a break, and everyone was scattered in their own directions. Quil had spent the morning pacing around the house, unsure of what to do with himself. He could feel Joy watching him from the sidelines, concern etched on her face as she saw her son drifting further into his own thoughts, slipping deeper into a world of sorrow. For hours, he wandered in and out of the house, unable to settle, unable to find peace.

Finally, in a moment of exasperation, Joy locked him out of the house. "You're not coming back inside until you go to the beach," she said firmly. Her voice was both a threat and a challenge, a mix of maternal concern and gentle tough love. "You're going. I don't care if you walk slowly, but you are going." Quil had no choice but to heed her words. There was no way he could resist that kind of persistence.

It wasn't easy, though. The first step was always the hardest. He shuffled out of the house, his feet dragging like an elderly man, but as he walked, something within him pushed him forward. It wasn't much, but it was progress. He wasn't running from it anymore. He was taking control.

By the time Quil made it to the beach, the late afternoon sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Most families were packing up, their laughter and chatter fading into the background as they began to head home. Quil preferred it this way. The beach was quieter now, the usual crowd long gone. He didn't have to worry about kids running around or people complaining about the space he took up. He liked the emptiness, the solitude, the peace that it brought.

The pack's presence at the beach had always kept others at a distance, mostly because they were seen as intimidating—gang members, troublemakers, or, worse yet, "Sam Uley's lackeys." But Quil didn't mind that. It gave him space to breathe, space to be himself.

He found a spot near the shoreline, not too close but not too far either. The sand beneath him felt familiar, comforting in its own way, even though it carried the weight of so many painful memories. He sat there, breathing in the salty air, letting it fill his lungs, grounding himself in the present while his mind wandered back to the past.

It was then that the memories came, as they always did when he was near the water.

His first memory with Zahra. It was here, on this very beach, that they had met. He smiled to himself, recalling the way she had stood at the water's edge, staring in awe at the ocean. Her voice had been full of wonder as she asked, "What in Poseidon's name are these things?!" Quil had chuckled at her words, remembering how bewildered she had been by the ocean, by the land, by everything she didn't understand.

He had been so new to his own powers back then—just weeks after his first phase—and yet, he'd known immediately that she was someone special. He was on his first patrol, all alone, without Sam, Jared, or Paul to guide him. It was a moment of vulnerability for him, but also a moment of connection. He had no idea then how much Zahra would come to mean to him, how much she would change his life.

The second memory that surfaced was the one where they had sat together by the water, and Quil had finally opened up to her about the Cold Ones—the vampires that had been haunting their lives for years. He had been so afraid to tell her, but Zahra had taken it in stride. "Thank you, Quil," she had said, her voice gentle but filled with understanding. But it wasn't just the words that stayed with him. It was the feeling of her hug that lingered in his heart. That was the moment he had truly felt seen, truly felt like someone understood him.

But it was the third memory that he revisited the most often. It was the moment that had sealed his love for Zahra. The time she had kissed him on the cheek, a soft, tender gesture that sent his heart racing. "I really care about you, Quil," she had said, her voice serious and full of meaning. "I want you to know that I'll never kiss you for fun." He could still hear the sincerity in her words, and the way his heart had stopped for a second, overwhelmed by the depth of her feelings. That kiss had changed everything. It had solidified everything he had been too afraid to admit. He was in love with her.

Quil knew that his memories of Zahra would never fade, not truly. And as much as the pain of losing her hurt, he wouldn't trade those memories for anything. They were all he had left of her, and they were precious to him. He couldn't imagine wanting to forget them, even though he knew it was a path some took when faced with the unbearable weight of loss.

The memory of Yareli, Zahra's biological mother, crossed his mind. When Ahanu had passed, Yareli had chosen to forget the memories, to bury them deep. Quil had always felt a pang of sympathy for Ahanu. He understood the desire to forget the pain, to let go of the memories that were too difficult to carry. But Quil couldn't do that. He couldn't erase Zahra from his heart. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how long it took, he would hold onto those memories. They were a part of him now, and he would never let go.

The thought of forgetting faded into the background as Quil was pulled back to the present. He heard his name being called, a voice cutting through the darkness as the sky continued to darken around him.

Quil furrowed his brows, unsure of who it could be. He turned toward the voice, his heart pounding in his chest. As his eyes adjusted to the dimming light, his body went rigid.

Standing just a few feet away from him was a figure he hadn't expected to see. His throat tightened, and his entire body froze, unable to move.

"You..." he gasped his voice barely above a whisper, the words getting caught in his throat.

The person standing before him seemed to glow in the twilight, a presence that sent ripples through his already fragile state. The ocean waves crashed against the shore behind him, but for a moment, everything else faded away.