Those words hit me like a lightning bolt, sending shockwaves through my heart. Panic gripped me, and without a second thought, I spun around and sprinted back toward Lyra's grave, my pulse pounding in my ears.
Lyra was the light of my life, a radiant one who adored daisies—flowers that mirrored her sunny personality. She used to dream about planting daisies all over our pack house's backyard.
Her dream was left unfulfilled in life, so after her death, I planted countless daisies on her grave, each one a token of my enduring love and longing. There was no tombstone for her; just a sea of daisies symbolizing the innocence and brightness she brought into the world.
As I approached her grave, I saw something that made my heart drop into my stomach. Lilith, with an air of entitlement, had placed the urn she was holding into Lyra's grave. Two wolf warriors were busily refilling the soil, trampling the daisies I had so carefully planted.
“Alpha Orion, look at all these daisies. Farrow will definitely love resting here!” Lilith's voice was a dagger to my heart, her words slicing through the fog of grief that enveloped me.