WILLOW'S POV.
The following morning came heavy with grief. The skies were gray and silent, as though they themselves were mourning. The pack cemetery of Obsidian Crescent was filled with people — alphas, betas, Lunas, elders, and pack members from across the territories — all gathered to pay their final respects to Atlas’s father, Alpha Degan Lysander of Obsidian Crescent.
Even though I hadn’t known the man, it felt wrong not to attend. My team and I stood quietly among the others, dressed in black, watching the ceremony unfold in somber silence.
At the center of the crowd rested the casket. Warriors stood on both sides, heads bowed, hands clasped before them.
An elder stepped forward, his voice deep and sad as he began to speak.
“Alpha Degan was a man of strength,” he said. “He ruled
