Chapter 84

Everything was black. Black banners hung from the packhouse walls and throughout the streets. Black ribbons were tied around the old trees. Even the wolves moved quietly today. The sadness in the air felt as thick as smoke; the whole pack had come to say goodbye to Alpha King Garrett.

My father was waiting for us in the center of the grounds. He lay on the pyre, wrapped in white cloth.

Inside me, Asher was losing it. “We should have been there,” he growled.

The guilt tasted bitter in my throat, and I couldn't get rid of it.

We didn't use coffins. Wolves don't belong in boxes; we belong to the earth and the fire. The pyre was built high with wood and sage against the old stone altar.

The line of people never seemed to end. One by one, they stepped up to the wood to pay their final respects and say their last goodbyes.

I watched the warriors who had fought beside him and the children who thought he was a god. Every single