[Book One in a three-part series]
At the age of twenty-six, Slater still hasn't met his mate and the pack elders are running out of patience. They want him to either take a mate or step down as alpha. To keep the pack out of the hands of his younger...
Emilia and Stellan remained by the door, watching, giving me space. They knew as well as I did that this wasn't just about Alastor. It was about every wolf we had lost before him. Everyone we might still lose.
"We should bury him," Stellan said after a moment, voice gruff.
I nodded, standing. "Yeah. Somewhere peaceful."
It was the least we could do. A final kindness for a soul that had never known enough of it.
I didn't stop Stellan as he moved to carefully pick up Alastor's body. Emilia stepped forward, her expression unreadable as she reached out, brushing her fingers over the wolf's fur one last time.
"I wish we could've done more," she murmured.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to push down the ache in my chest. "We did what we could."
And that was the truth, as bitter as it was.
We left the building in silence, the late afternoon light stretching long shadows across the ground.
Outside, the world moved on as if nothing had changed. The wind rustled the trees, birds called to one another, and the scent of pine and damp earth filled the air. But in my chest, the weight of loss sat heavy, unshaken by the simplicity of the day.
"We'll take him to the grove," I said again, more to reassure myself than anything.
Stellan adjusted his grip on Alastor's body, his face impassive, but I saw the tension in the way he carried him. Emilia walked beside me, silent. There was nothing left to say.
The grove was tucked away from the main grounds, a quiet place where the sunlight filtered gently through the trees. It was where we laid others to rest before him—wolves who had never had a home never had a place where they truly belonged. This was the closest we could give them.
When we reached the clearing, Stellan set Alastor down, and without needing to be asked, we started digging. The motions were familiar. Routine. And that was the worst part—how easily we fell into it.
No one spoke until the grave was finished.
I took one last look at him, sighed to myself, and nodded before we carefully lowered his body into the earth. The dirt was cool and damp beneath my fingers as we covered him, each handful a quiet farewell.
When the last of the soil was packed down, I took a step back, brushing my hands against my jeans. Emilia knelt, placing a small, flat stone at the head of the grave. No name carved into it, no marker beyond that. Just a simple weight to say: You were here. You mattered.
"You both can go if you'd like. I'm going to stay here for a minute," I instructed Emilia and Stellan.
They both paused, looking at me for a second with that familiar emotion on their faces: concern.
"Are you sure?" Emilia asked carefully.
"I can stay—" Stellan started, but I stopped them both.
"I'll be fine. I'm just not ready to leave yet," I told them honestly. "Go ahead."
Albeit a bit reluctantly, they both do eventually leave. Once they were a decent ways away, I took a spot underneath a tree and just exhaled. It was a tradition of sorts by now for me to sit for a while after a pack member died, and that extended to the rescues too. It was a small act, but it brought me a little peace when doing so.
I leaned my head back against the rough bark, closing my eyes for a brief moment. The silence of the grove settled over me, broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant calls of birds.
It gave me space to think.
Not just about Alastor, but about all of them. Every wolf we'd lost. Every wolf we still might.
After Solomon and I lost our parents, I made it a point to try and remember all we had lost. I didn't want their memories to be lost.
Solomon called it weak, I called it respectful.
Honestly, I wasn't sure how long I sat like that—just sitting by myself, alone with my thoughts. Unfortunately, it didn't last for as long as I would've liked it to. A rustle in the trees pulled me from my thoughts. My body tensed automatically, senses sharpening as I lifted my head.
For a moment there was nothing and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked around. I was about to calm myself down when a heartbeat later, I caught the scent.
Solomon's scent.
As if hearing my thoughts, the sound of rustling leaves in the distance returned. I stood up and took one last look at Alastor's grave before I moved to investigate the sound. I wove through the trees and bushes until I reached the border and that's when I saw him.
Solomon stood with the two wolves I'd sent out to find him. He wore that same blank expression on his face and I watched as he sniffed the air until his familiar brown eyes spotted me.
Had it been any other day, I might've had the energy to play nice. Had it been any other day, I might've tried to mask my emotions better. But today wasn't any other day. Today, I was drained. I was raw. And I had no patience for Solomon.
Before, I might've tried to talk it out with him but, if I was being honest, I was done with the back and forth. I was putting an end to whatever game Solomon thought we'd been playing once and for all.
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