Sera's POV
The days after the funeral blurred together.
I moved through them like a ghost—eating when food appeared before me, sleeping when exhaustion claimed me, speaking when spoken to. But inside, I was elsewhere. Trapped in that moment when Caelan fell. When his eyes closed. When he left us forever.
The den felt emptier without him. Every corner held a memory—Caelan laughing in the great hall, Caelan training the young wolves, Caelan sitting by the river with that gentle smile. I couldn't escape them. Didn't want to.
Draven stayed close, his presence a warm anchor through the bond. He grieved too—I felt it, a constant ache beneath his careful composure, a weight he carried silently so others could lean on him. But he held on. For me. For the pack. For Caelan's memory.
On the seco
