Couldn’t.
Something she’d learned recently was that these new sides of her nature had made her far more dominant.She couldn’t stand for the shit she’d been dealing with all her life.
No more.
Enough was literally enough, and the Pride would regret it if they attempted to naysay her.
“One, we need to prepare for the funeral arrangements next week.”
She reared back.“Funeral arrangements?”Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.
Ryan nodded.“For the fallen in the bomb blast.”
She was still surprised even though she guessed it made sense.The guys who’d died had done so in service to the Pride, after all.She realized she’d been short-sighted in not thinking there would be some kind of service to commemorate their sacrifice.
“Like in honor of their memory?”
He wiggled his head from side to side.“Kind of.Funerals are handled by the close family, but this is more of a tribute to The Mother.”
“In what way?”
Marc snorted as his hand came to rest on her knee.“I’m just going to love her reaction to this.”
“Who’s ‘her’?”she demanded with a growl, but he just squeezed her thigh and laughed.
Trip grinned but curled his arm over her shoulder, then tucked her closer.“It’s going to sound mad to you.”
“What doesn’t sound crazy in my new life?”
“True,” he murmured, “but, this is going to sound crazier still.Especially for Shawn.”
“Oh, boy.Go on then, hit me—well, us—with it.”
“You know how humans have those whole whacked up beliefs and ceremonies to go with it?”
“You mean, religious ones?”Her lips twitched at the notion that to Shifters organized religion was nothing more than a bunch of whacked up beliefs and ceremonies.Truth was, that was nothing short of hilarious.
“Yeah.Well, we have our own quirks, too.”
“That makes sense,” she admitted with a frown, because it did, but she could only imagine how insane they might be.“Why shouldn’t you?”
Trip sighed, then rubbed a finger down his nose.“Not sure how much you know about mythology and the like, but it’s a little similar to the whole going to the Underworld and having to pay for a ride across the River Styx thing.”
Her eyes widened as she scurried to think about that.The implications were beyond mind-boggling to her.When a culture could identify with a ‘quirk’ that heralded back to ancient Greece, well, she really didn’t know what to say about that.
She thought back to her college classes, remembering the old fable.
Hades ruled the Underworld, the ancient Greek version of Hell.But to pass into the Underworld, newly dead souls had to pay a ferryman by the name of Charon an obulus, a kind of coin, to cross the Styx.If they didn’t, they’d stay ‘undead’ and be doomed to live as ghost in the mare with the other restless dead.
“When you say it’s a little similar…?”
Marc laughed.“We don’t believe in an underworld.Nor is there a ferryman who is the deciding factor between us passing over or being a ghost.But we believe that The Mother deserves our most favored possession as a thank you for embracing us back to the fold.”
El frowned.“So, you don’t believe in an afterlife?”
“No.We believe in reincarnation, and with our generosity to The Mother, something our loved ones handle for us after we pass, we believe she will grant us a new life, abetterlife.”
She thought about that for a second.Yes, it seemed insane.That was a given.But, really, what cultural customs weren’t?What about the reincarnation of Jesus didn’t seem a little batty?Or the whole gazillion virgins granted to a terrorist upon their death and entry into heaven?Religion didn’t have to make a whole heap of sense for people to be willing to die for it.
