1 Chapter 1: Rock bottom

Chapter 1: Rock bottom

Miracle's POV

I love flowers, Dandelions to be exact. I don't know why. Maybe because it symbolizes hope, strength and transformation which is kind of sweet but then again, the flower is a diuretic – that's a big word for it softens your shit…and I mean literally.

I am lying in a field filled with both yellow and white dandelions and it is a sight to behold! I have never seen anything more beautiful.

"Hey baby"

The voice came from behind me. It made me smile. It was exactly the voice I wanted to hear.

"Grandma" I smiled widely to myself before turning around to flee into her embrace.

It felt warm and cozy and peaceful…it felt like home.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, Gran" I buried my face in her neck and I let myself inhale her scent.

She didn't have one, she never does but then again she doesn't have a beating heart and she has no need for air, so not having a scent is not the weirdest thing here.

"And I have missed you tremendously too, sweetheart but you know I can't let you stay"

"Not even a little bit?" I asked her with the cutest most adorable smile I have.

"Not even a little" she shook her head.

"You know I was named after you, right? The only difference in our name is the middle one. I am Ira Eloise and you are Miracle Alana…"

"Your name is Miracle Eloise Cole" she interrupted me by saying.

I chuckled sadly then it turned into a big heartbreaking laugh that lasted a few seconds.

"I haven't been Miracle Cole in a long time, grandma; I go by Ira White now. Did nobody tell you? Oh right…I forgot, you are dead and I reckon, if I stay here long enough, I will be too"

She grabbed my hand tightly and the smile disappeared from her face instantly.

"Go back!" she yelled at me.

"No. It's easier here, Gran. Everything is so less complicated. Don't worry, I doubt anyone would miss me. So, I am staying"

"That's not true, Miracle…You have a lot of love waiting for you baby"

"No, not really" I wiped my face with my palms and I exhaled to stop the tears that were threatening to spill from my eyes. It didn't help.

I looked at her.

"He wasn't even sorry. I am Ira and he is Steve Jackson. We are fated lovers and he didn't even flinch. I shattered and he didn't even flinch…and worse, I wasn't even surprised. Is love supposed to hurt this much? My inside feels liquified and hot like tar. I can't catch my fucking breathe! I know love isn't just about the good times but the bad too…but Is there a line on how much bad we should endure for love? Because there should be, I feel like someone needs to draw a freaking line, Gran…right? But You are a Cole…You are an expert on Love, everyone in our family is. There should be a line, shouldn't it? Answer me!"

I watched her.

My family did things for love. Be it good or bad or ugly, if it is done in the name of love then it is surely worth it. It is like an unspoken rule from where I come from - A life with love is a life well lived.

And it is not just talk or empty promises with a whole side of nada, it is not just something they say because it is expected to be said. It is not that…never has been and never will be.

My father murdered a whole lot of people because of love. He slaughtered them without batting an eyelid and he did that with a hand on my shoulder, keeping me safe.

He dove into the ocean to save his son from death and he did that with a bullet wound…no! Two bullet wounds and a blood so packed with silver that it could take down an Alpha wolf.

Take a guess, he didn't die, he defiled death for love and he repaid those that harmed us by spilling their blood.

I was five years old and I learnt an important lesson – do not screw with the Hybrid Prince Waylen Xavier Cole.

Don't screw with those he loves!

Don't fuck with love!

And it is not just him…no, definitely not. My mother is equally psychotic when it comes to love. She went through hell and Hades to give her babies the life she never had, the love of a father she never had herself, and she loved us so much.

My Grandma, Miracle Alana Cole…my very dead grandmother standing in front of me right this freaking second chose love over her family and I mean literally, she chose love and she never went home ever again, never saw her parents…never saw them laugh again or cry or die.

Grandma Eloise chose love over her pack and her sanity, she chose my mom.

My birth Grandma Elise kidnapped for love (She is not a very good example but it tells how extreme my family can be)

I know what love is…I fucking grew up in it.

I know the feeling and I know the sacrifices one must make for love.

I know the joy and I know the pain and I know the in-between too.

But there should be a freaking line!

Someone needs to create a fucking line!

But why does it have to be me?

I don't get it… I need to get it.

"It's not love, if you are miserable, sweetheart" Gran said.

"Of course, it is. Love is pain" I answered defiantly.

I turned to her and I blinked to keep the tears at bay but they came flooding anyway.

"No, sweetheart…it is not"

"If it is not…then why does it feel like I would literally die if I am not the girl Steve loves…the girl who loves him back. I love him too much to leave, don't you get it?"

Author's note:

A word For Miracle