Chapter 4

The pack gathered at twilight for my father's funeral pyre. Dozens of wolves stood in solemn formation around the ceremonial platform where his body lay, wrapped in the traditional silver-threaded shroud. The scent of cedar and sage hung heavy in the air, sacred herbs meant to guide his spirit to the Moon Goddess.

I stood at the front, Emma's small hand clutched in mine, my mother on my other side. Her face was a mask of dignified grief, though I could feel her trembling against my arm. The pack elders had arranged everything perfectly—my father's ceremonial sword lay across his…