Lucas’s claws raked deep into the coffin lid, leaving five jagged scars in the polished wood.
The silver lining along the edges hissed as it burned his flesh, filling the air with the acrid scent of charred skin.
As an Alpha, he had never known fear–until now. His ears flattened against his skull, and his tail tucked tightly between his legs.
“Alpha Lucas… by the Moon Goddess…” The funeral director, an Omega, dropped to one knee in submission, his voice trembling
“Please… accept the Moon’s will.”
He lifted the coffin lid, and the overwhelming scent of wolfsbane filled the room. The smell of an herb that suppresses a werewolf’s natural regeneration, to ensure the dead remain dead.
Lucas’s pupils constricted to mere pinpricks as the truth hit him like a silver dagger to the heart. The mangled body inside the
coffin carried my unmistakable scent, now tainted with the metallic sting of dried blood.
Then, his gaze locked onto my SCAR
A vicious claw mark slashed across my left chest.
Three years ago, on a moonless night, rogue wolves had attacked our territory. I, still just a Beta, had thrown myself between
Lucas and the rogue leader, taking a fatal blow meant for him. The wound had left a deep scar, one that should have shimmered
with silver under the full moon–a mark of her survival.
Now, it would never glow again,
A soul–deep howl ripped from Lucas’s throat, shaking the very foundations of the funeral hall. The crystal chandelier above shattered into a thousand shards, raining like fallen stars. His canines punctured his lower lip, and Alpha blood dripped onto t
the
coffin’s wooden frame.
His pheromones surged, an overwhelming flood of power that sent the lower–ranking wolves crumbling to their knees, their
bodies trembling under the force of his grief.
Then a sudden, furious snarl echoed in the room. It was none but my mother, Emily.
