Victory?

Victory?
Lilieth
I don't know how much time passes, as I lose complete track of it—all I know is that I stay in this cabin for the longest time, unable to move or take my eyes off Draven. 
I can't believe this happened.
He can't be dead. 
It's starting to get cold, and the rain is pouring down harder than ever before while the cool air is blowing felt through the open door. The fire I started earlier is long gone, and room is devoid of warmth. I'm heartbroken in ways that can't be described in words. 
How does one survive such trauma? How? What am I supposed to do about all this? I just watched a man who protected me for so long and fought for so many people be killed by a murderous bastard, and I had no way to help him even though I saw the attack coming. 
And that's what's destroying me.
That I saw it. I saw that Wenton wasn't dead yet, and I had the certainty that he was going to move and try to do something. Hell, I saw it before it happened.
But I froze.
I stood there like a useless thing, scared out of my mind and trembling like a leaf in the wind, and let it happen. I let Wenton have his final victory—even in death, even by taking his own life, he won. 
And in turn, I let Draven die. He looked right at me when the blade entered him. I'll never forget that expression. It wasn't pain that I saw—not first. It was disappointment. Maybe not in me. Maybe in fate. Or maybe in the brutal, empty truth that he couldn't be the hero he was meant to be. 
And I let it all happen. 
My lungs burn with the weight of the scream I never let go of. I will live with this forever because that's what I deserve. This guilt can never leave me. I never even pulled the trigger. I didn't act quickly enough. 
Why? Why did this have to happen?
By the goddess, I'm losing it. 
I keep thinking if I'd acted even a second earlier, things might have changed. He wouldn't be lying with his head on my lap while blood pooled close to my knee. But I didn't. I hesitated.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper. I feel so sorry for him. 
I hear thunder from a distance. I take a few deep breaths, that scream threatening to come right out of me. I start trembling from head to toe, all over again. 
And then, I cry. 
It starts low, and then it only grows. Hatred toward Wenton and everyone else who brought us here only swells. I cry out in the darkness of the cabin—I could never turn on the lights, and my pain just flows right out of me.
I can't put a stop to any of it. 
I lose all sense of time. I don't even know when I fall asleep with Draven's head still on my lap. All I know is that when I wake up, it's to the sound of my name being called. Someone touches my shoulder tentatively. 
I open my eyes and make eye contact with Cadeon. 
A strangled sound leaves his lips and he embraces me. I'm so shocked that I can barely react to his touch—am I dreaming? Is this a figment of my imagination? Cadeon holds me close, murmuring my name as his fingers dig into my skin. 
"Baby," he says. "My baby. Lili, talk to me. Please. I thought you were dead. I thought—"
"Cadeon?"
He pulls away and nods. 
I sob, so happy to see him, and this time, I hug him back. He lifts me up, and Draven's head finally falls from my lap. I wrap my legs around him, needing him to be close to me. I feel a few sparks through the bond, and they're enough to make me appreciate the fact that he's here, alive and well. 
"Baby," he says again. "Fuck, when I saw all those dead bodies...I thought I lost you, Lili. I thought you were dead."
Cadeon puts me back down on the ground and he searches my eyes feverishly. I see tears swimming in his eyes and they trigger my own tears. 
"I'm sorry," he says in a low voice. "I left you alone when you needed me. I didn't listen to you."
I close my eyes and shake my head. "I don't want to talk about that. There's no need—you did what you had to do. I'm not mad."
"Please, forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," I say, pulling him close. The numbness is starting to leave my body, and I start to feel pain all over my body. Especially in my leg. 
"The war..."
"It's over," Cadeon tells me. "We won, Lili. We won the war. It's over."
I gasp. "Really?"
He nods, and more tears cascade down my cheeks. He pulls me even closer, and then carries me out of the cabin. It's still dark out, so I have no idea what the time is. Either way, I hold onto him. I have so much I want to say, but for some reason, I don't even know where to begin. 
So, I don't say anything at all. 
Instead, I rest my head on his shoulder and let him carry me away from all the chaos and the memories that will haunt me for the rest of my life. 
I will never stop seeing Wenton and that sinister smile of his, and how he looked at me with so much joy as he dragged that knife across his neck. 
I hate him so much—I didn't think it was possible to hate someone as much as I hate him. Even in death, I can't seem to feel like he got what he deserved. Perhaps that makes me cruel, but I won't take back what I said. Not a chance. 
When I open my eyes again, the sky is lighter, and we're surrounded by people. I rub my eyes and look around, nothing that we're in the village. In Draven's pack. There's this deep sadness about everything—like they all know what happened. And maybe it's true. Maybe they do know how his story ended. 
I wish I could take it back. 
All of it. 
We reach the house, and my mother yells my name as soon as she sees me. Cadeon sets me down on the table, and he rubs his fingers along my face as everyone asks me what happened and what went wrong. 
I part my lips to speak, but I can't say a word. The words are lodged in my throat. 
Mom looks at me for the longest time, her eyes filling with tears. Then, she silently starts searching my body for injuries. Deo takes my hand in hers, silently squeezing. I want to tell them that we shouldn't be this quiet because we won the war and everything is supposed to be alright. We're meant to be happy. 
It doesn't have to be this way. 
But I don't have the strength to say such a thing, because nothing is okay, and the one person who fought hard for all this won't be here to see it. 
This is the most tragic end imaginable.
Did we really win? Did we?
I don't think so. 
My injuries are cleaned, and my family is all around me. Corey's in the room, perhaps sleeping. He's not here physically, but his presence is everywhere. 
The silence is proof that there's a long way to go and it's too soon to celebrate. We don't know where any of this will lead us. 
We just have to wait and see.