POV: Nyxara
The funerals lasted three days. Twenty-three pyres burned under the full moon, sending our fallen wolves to the Moon Goddess. I stood through every ceremony, speaking words of comfort to grieving families, pretending I wasn't drowning in guilt.
Their blood was on my hands. If I hadn't walked into Seraphine's trap, if I'd been stronger, smarter, better..
"Stop," Veyr said quietly beside me. "I can feel what you're thinking through the bond. Stop blaming yourself."
"How can I not?" I watched another pyre catch fire. "They died because of me."
"They died fighting for what's right. There's a difference."
But the guilt remained, a constant weight pressing down on my chest.
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That night, I couldn't sleep. The vision haunted me. The future where I ruled alone over ashes. Wh
