DARRAGH’S POV
The morgue smelled like death and chemicals. I found my mother standing beside the metal table where Gamma Killian's body lay, her back straight and her face set. She did not know a thing about what had just transpired and I was about to rock her world. I approached as the pack healer worked quietly in the corner, preparing the embalming solution with practiced hands.
"Mom," I said from the doorway. "Let's talk."
She didn't turn around immediately. Her fingers traced the edge of the table, and when she finally looked at me, her expression was guarded. "Culture says you shouldn't be here, Darragh. Death preparations are not for the young Alpha's eyes. Neither are they auspicious."
"Mom." My voice came out rougher than I intended. My eyes felt raw, probably looked it too. "
