Wild Hunger (The Phoenix Pack, #7)(50)

The words stabbed Frankie right in the stomach. She took in a huge gulp of air. “Oh.”

“Come here.” Trick drew her to him, curling his arms tight around her. He kissed her hair. “I’m sorry, baby.”

The gentleness in his voice made her chest tighten. “I didn’t really know her.”

Trick framed her face with his hands. “She was your grandmother, and she loved you. She was a good woman, and I’m sorry that you didn’t get more time with her. And I’m sorry for all the years that you missed with her. If nothing else, you can mourn what you missed.”

Frankie rested her forehead on his chest. She hadn’t expected to feel such deep sorrow about the news. Iris was her grandmother, sure, but she was also a virtual stranger. Still, Frankie remembered those pictures she’d seen in the albums of Iris hugging her tight, kissing her cheek, holding her hand, or carrying her around. Iris had loved her, and the child that Frankie had once been had loved her right back.

Realizing she was clinging to Trick, Frankie loosened her grip on him. “Will there be a funeral?”

“It’ll be held on Bjorn Pack territory in a few days.”

She frowned. “Bjorn territory?”

“Iris wanted to be buried near her mate and son.” Which meant that if Frankie went, she’d see Christopher’s grave. Trick wasn’t sure if that was something she was ready for. “You don’t have to go to the funeral, Frankie. Iris would have wanted you to be there, but she would also have perfectly understood if you didn’t go.”

“I’ll be there.” She wanted to pay her respects. His eyes searched hers, uncertain, so she assured him, “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. The graveyard is near the border of Bjorn Pack territory, so there’ll be no need for us to drive through the heart of it.”

That was a relief. She wasn’t ready to revisit the place yet. Wasn’t sure if it was something she’d ever want to do.

“Don’t know if you’re one of those people who like to be alone when you’re sad or grieving, but I’m telling you now that that won’t be happening. I’m staying at your side. We don’t have to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to, but I’m not leaving you.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to go.” Her chest felt tight, and she rubbed the heel of her hand over it. Her stomach was churning, and she was surprised she hadn’t retched.

“We need to go check on Lydia. She’ll want to see you. Think you’re up to that?”

“I thought we’d established that I’m not made of fine bone china, Trick.”

He cupped her face. “I know you’re not fragile. But you are mine. That means I intend to take care of you, no matter how strong you are.”

“Even a strong woman needs to lean on her man sometimes.”

Hearing Iris’s voice in her head made her swallow hard. Frankie went pliant against him, and he wrapped his arms tight around her once more. She said nothing as he gently rocked her from side to side; she allowed herself to take comfort from him. Her wolf pushed up against him, letting out a whine of grief. “You’re right, she was a good woman. She didn’t deserve to have her granddaughter taken from her life.”

Trick kissed her temple. “No, she didn’t. But she got to see the woman you’d become. That made up for a lot.” He squeezed her nape. “Come on, let’s go home.” He was glad when she didn’t argue that Phoenix Pack territory wasn’t her home. They both knew she wouldn’t be living in the house much longer. “We’ll see Lydia, and then we’ll let our wolves out so they can run together.”

“Sounds good.”

An hour later, they were walking through the caves of pack territory. As they entered the living area, Frankie saw that most of the pack were gathered around, all looking grief-stricken to varying degrees.

Lydia’s lips trembled as she saw Frankie. Her eyes were red rimmed, and her face was puffy and splotchy. She stood and crossed to Frankie.

Not good with grieving people, Frankie shifted from foot to foot. She opened her mouth, intending to say the typical “I’m sorry for your loss,” but the words just seemed so formal and distant. All that came out was, “Hey.”

“Frankie,” was all Lydia said. Then she wrapped her arms around Frankie. It wasn’t a hug that offered comfort, it was one that begged for it. Frankie awkwardly returned the hug.

“I really can’t thank you enough for coming to see her,” Lydia whispered, as if her voice lacked strength. “She’d wanted it for so long . . .”

Frankie swallowed. Her throat felt sore and scratchy from the sob that she couldn’t seem to let go. “I’m glad I was able to see her. As Trick said, she was a good woman.” Hell, they weren’t exactly comforting words, but she was truly at a loss for what to say.

“I knew it was coming. Even though I was prepared, it still hit me hard when I went to check on her and realized she was gone.” Lydia shuddered, and then it was like she just crumpled. Her sobs were heartbreaking. Cam gently pulled her to him, murmuring in her ear as Lydia cried, clutching his arms.

Trick draped an arm over Frankie’s shoulders, holding her close, as people offered her sympathetic looks and words of comfort. He knew his mate. Knew she’d feel that she didn’t deserve that support, considering it felt to her as if she’d only met Iris twice. But he also knew that Frankie was hurting. Mourning the years that she’d lost with her grandmother, and imagining how different things would have been if they hadn’t been separated from each other all those years ago.