Zyros's POV
When we burned Valen's body, the entire pack gathered at the ceremonial grounds. Warriors stood in rows, their heads bowed, while elders whispered prayers to the moon. Women wept quietly into their hands.
But I did not cry.
I stood at the front, my arms crossed and my eyes cold. I was watching everyone. Elder Ronan stood near the pyre. He wore ceremonial robes and held a torch in his hand. His face was just too calm.
"We commit our brother Valen to the flames," he said loudly. "May the moon goddess guide his spirit home."
He threw the torch onto the pyre and the flames rose high. But something was wrong.
I looked at Elder Ronan's hands. They were clean, not a speck of ash or dirt. Not even a trace of grief.
He claimed he had prepared Valen's body himself and he also cla
