I stood there in the bitter wind, clutching my daughter as her small body went limp in my arms. The hatred that surged through me in that moment—it eclipsed even my terror.
Alaric. Raven.
If anything happens to my pup tonight, I will bury your entire bloodline with her.
In the end, that healer with his glowing rune-stones became the regret I would carry for the rest of my life.
The pack healer emerged from the healing den, lowered his herb-stained hands, and shook his head.
The world didn't collapse. It simply went silent. Completely, utterly silent.
I didn't cry. I just felt something blunt push into my chest and start sawing back and forth until the pain turned to numbness.
I went through the motions mechanically—death rites, selecting a burial ground in the sacred grove, arranging the pyre ceremony.
Every ritual required a pack member's mark. The ceremonial blade trembled so violently in my hand I could barely make my cut.
Somewhere in that haze, I reached out to Alaric through our fading bond.
I wanted to tell him our pup was gone.
I wanted him to see Lily one last time.
First attempt—blocked.
Second attempt—blocked.