A Burial Without a Body
Moonlight bathed the Crimson Fang courtyard in a pale glow, illuminating the solemn faces of the gathered wolves. Isla stood at the center, her posture rigid despite the heaviness in her heart. Her silver hair shimmered under the light, and her voice trembled as she addressed the pack.
“She may have been flawed,” Isla began, her words halting, “but Seraphine was my sister. Whatever mistakes she made, whatever choices led her down the path she took… she didn’t deserve what happened to her.”
She remembered the cruel smile Seraphine wore when she sided with Malrik. The cold words she spoke in those final moments, trying to drive a wedge between Isla and Draven. The times Seraphine seemed to revel in chaos, manipulating others to her advantage.
But then, another memory surfaced—Seraphine as a child, protecting Isla from bullies at Midnight Crest. Seraphine holding her hand after their parents disappeared, whispering that they’d survive together.
“She hurt me,” Isla repeated, her voice cracking. “But she was my sister. And in the end, she was more than her mistakes. She deserved better than what Malrik did to her.”
Her voice broke as she continued. “I should have done more. I should have found a way to save her.”
The weight of guilt pressed heavily on her chest, and for a moment, Isla struggled to breathe. But before she could falter, Draven stepped forward, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. His presence grounded her, his amber eyes steady as they met hers.
The guilt clawed at her, twisting her insides, but before she could falter, Draven stepped forward. He placed a steady hand on her shoulder, his touch grounding her. “You gave her something Malrik never could,” he said, his deep voice soft but firm. “A moment of peace. That matters, Isla.”
Isla nodded, though her heart remained heavy. She turned back to the gathered wolves, her voice firmer now. “We honor her tonight—not just for who she was, but for what she could have been.”
As the ceremony concluded, the warriors raised their heads to the sky, their howls echoing in mourning and remembrance. Isla’s gaze lingered on the moon, her tears falling silently as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Seraphine.”
