There's Nothing Lower Than Six Foot Deep

She was thankful for the man Eraithus, he was a steadfast member of Habari and he’d shown his dedication to the pack and her more than once. She was grateful he kept her fed, and even more so in this moment that he would puppysit. Deathbelle hadn’t been away from the tiny children at all, and as they got big enough to leave the den she wished for her freedom even more. Her heart ached for herself and them, Magnus hadn’t even seen his children yet.

After so long she was both worried and frustrated. She wanted to be upset, and she was devastated that he hadn’t shown up. However she still had a bit of hope that was trying to fight in her heart. Part of her realized that the father of her children could be dead, after he’d left her so long ago and she thought him fully gone.. Deathbelle couldn’t handle another abandonment.

Perhaps she had never been slated for a happy ending. She had been so close with Magnus, she’d felt loved and adored for the first time in a long time. She had been eager to raise a family with him, but now she was alone. Again. Maybe it was time to finally give up. Her mind returned to Sirius, the one who she had wanted beside her for all of her days. Now she hadn’t seen him in nearly a year. Iolaire came next, the true love she had with her, and the duty to her Empire she thought to see through. Hannibal had left her as well.

Deathbelle wanted to cry out in frustration and sadness as she wallowed in the sorrow of her heart. An emotion that hadn’t really left her since Archon’s death. The sound that reached her mismatched ears in that moment was not from her lips, but the mourning sound called to her soul. ”Iolaire!” She called out, the mists obscuring much from her lavender gaze. She didn’t are if she couldn’t see, and already she was moving towards the sound.

When she saw the broken body against the ground Deathbelle didn’t stop, her form swiftly closed the distance between them. Belle took the dirtied broken woman into her arms. She didn’t miss the grime and blood, but it never did matter what Io looked like. Deathbelle’s love for her was unconditional forever. ”Io..” She whispered her name as she held her close and worried for the wounds on the surface and below. The woman she knew would never look like this if all was well.