Grey’s POV:
Alpha Michael’s funeral had been glorious — a rare, sacred kind of sorrow that bound every corner of our shattered pack together. It had been exactly what we needed. A symbol of unity and remembrance in the face of chaos.
And Caleb was right.
The Alpha Ceremony had to happen today.
The pack needed strength. Stability. Leadership.
No more drifting.
The night after the funeral bled into dawn — stories of Michael Owens echoing in every room, filling the halls with laughter and grief. Some cried. Others drank too much. Most did both.
The allied Alphas stayed overnight, their ranked wolves housed in the guest wings. It wasn’t just tradition — it was politics. Respect. Witness.
Caleb Owens was set to become the dominant Alpha of our territory — Blackmoon was one of the larges
