38. Shya

Chapter thirty-eight

Shya

T he pale light of the setting quarter moon cast shadows across the forest clearing as our Pack gathered to say goodbye to my father. Our shared loss hung heavy in the air, thick as the night mist that clung to the ground and swirled around our feet.

I stood at the edge of the clearing, my heart aching as I watched my Pack arrive. They moved silently, with just the occasional muffled sob or quiet sniffle.

"Shya," my mother's voice was soft as she approached, her eyes rimmed with red. "Are you ready?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Henry placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I felt a small hand slip into mine.

"I miss Dad," Tucker whispered.

I squeezed his hand. "I know, Tuck. I miss him, too."

As one, we stepped forward toward the center of the clearing where, atop a bed of pine boughs, a figure lay wrapped in a pristine red shroud. My eyes were drawn to it, and I couldn't look away. I knew the bundle of red held the body of my father, the strongest and bravest wolf I had ever known. As his immediate family, Mom, Henry, Tucker, and I were wearing red sashes cut from the same length of material that covered Dad. To the right of my dad's body, a freshly killed deer lay as an offering to the Moon Goddess. Mom had gone hunting this morning. To the left, a small sapling waited to be planted—it was a rare American chestnut, once thought extinct but now making a slow comeback. Like our Pack, I realized, resilient in the face of adversity.

I yanked my eyes away, unable to look at the body any longer, knowing that he would never be coming back. That he wasn't going to sit up and open his arms for a hug. He wouldn't be giving me or my brothers any more lessons in strategy or history. There would be no more secret glances between him and Mom when they thought no one was looking. No more bedtime stories for Tucker or hunting lessons for Henry. He was just gone and had left a hole that the rest of us could never fill.

I glanced around the clearing, taking in the faces of my Pack. Marnie and Summer, and even Ellen, my nemesis on the town council, stood with the other humans, their expressions a mix of sorrow and shock. Danni stood near us, guarding our family as we faced our grief. Ivan, Ethan, Due-lah, and at least ten other enforcers flanked the gathering, their eyes scanning the tree line on the lookout for an attack. It would be just like Tristan to come at us now.

Edmond, who had been standing with his parents and Garrett, nodded once to Mom, and came to stand on the other side of me. His blond hair was neatly combed, and his smart trousers and white shirt projected an air of controlled authority. I felt a twinge of irritation that he was here, with my family, at this moment. We were not mated yet. He was not part of us yet.

As if sensing my gaze, Edmond's eyes met mine. For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of emotion—was it sympathy, or perhaps regret?—but it was gone so quickly I couldn't be sure. He gave me a small, formal nod, his posture stiff and proper, as always.

My attention was drawn back to the center of the clearing as my mother stepped forward, her voice clear and steady, carrying across the clearing. "We have come together as Pack tonight. We set aside our differences, our toils, our kills to honor the life of Michael Blackwood Little, our Alpha, our protector, our friend, and my mate. He was the strength of our Pack, a devoted leader, a loving father, and the perfect partner."

I watched in awe of my mother and her composure. In the face of such profound loss, she somehow found the courage to stand tall, her voice unwavering. The moonlight caught the silver streaks in her dark hair, making them shine like starlight. In that moment, she looked every inch the Alpha she was.

"Michael lived by a code of honor, loyalty, and sacrifice," Mom continued, her eyes sweeping over the gathered Pack. "He believed in the strength of our unity and the power of our bonds. Tonight, we not only mourn his loss, but celebrate the legacy he leaves behind."

Her gaze settled on me, then moved to Henry and Tucker. "He will live on in his children, in the lessons he taught, and in the example he set for all of us."

I felt a lump form in my throat. How was she doing this? How could she be so strong when I felt like I was barely holding myself together?

Mom paused, taking a deep breath. For a moment, I saw a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, a glimpse of the depth of her pain. But then it was gone, replaced by determination.

"As we say goodbye to our Alpha, let us remember that his strength is our strength. His courage, our courage. We will honor his memory by standing united, by protecting what he loved, and by continuing to build the Pack he envisioned."

She turned to face the shrouded figure, her voice softening. "Goodbye, my love. May you run free under eternal moons. I will run with you soon."

Tucker's small hand tightened in mine.

On a silent cue, the Pack began to move forward to pay their final respects. I felt the tears roll down my face and made no move to brush them away. These tears were for my father; it was my way of honoring him while my mind flooded with memories of him. His kind smile when I'd skinned my knee as a pup. The pride in his eyes when I'd made my first successful hunt. The unwavering strength he'd shown, even in the face of Tristan's first betrayal. Dad always put Pack first. He gave everything for this Pack right up until the end. How could I ever live up to his legacy? I was suddenly keenly aware of the eyes of the Pack upon me. I was next in line to lead, and though the weight of that responsibility threatened to crush me, I knew I had to be strong. For my father. For my Pack.

The moon dipped below the horizon, plunging the clearing into the gray light of dawn.

One by one, people stepped forward to say a few words.

"Michael wasn't just our Alpha." Ethan's voice cracked with emotion. "He was a friend to all of us. When my brother died, Michael sat with me every night for a month. He didn't say much, just … was there. That's the kind of wolf he was."

Marnie spoke next. "I remember when I first came here and asked to join the Pack, how scared I was. But Michael … he made me feel at home. He said humans would always be welcome here. That we were part of this Pack. Humans and werewolves in the north? Who would have thought it? But Michael did. He meant what he said, and for that, my daughter and I will forever be grateful."

Marnie's words were soft-spoken and genuine, but I'm sure I wasn't the only one who heard the message in them. My clever friend was reminding everyone that Michael had wanted humans here, in case there were some who were wondering about Tristan and the things he stood for.

Summer's voice trembled as she stepped forward and spoke. "Michael always said that our strength wasn't in our individual powers but in our unity. Looking at us all here today, I know he was right."

I nodded, feeling the truth of those words deep in my bones. We were strong because we were together. We would survive this loss because we had each other. This was Pack. This was what we stood for.

Danni stepped forward, a burning torch in her hand, its flame dancing in the pre-dawn light. She bowed her head and passed it to my mother. Mom's fingers curled around the rough wood, her knuckles white with the strength of her grip. For a moment, she stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the shrouded form of Dad's body. In that pause, I could almost feel her grief as a tangible thing, the enormity of what she was about to do.

With a deep breath, Mom moved forward. The torch did not tremble in her hand as she lowered it to the bed of pine boughs. As the flames licked at the dry needles, smoke began to rise, carrying with it the essence of the forest Dad had loved so much.

We all watched in silence as the fire took hold. The flames grew, reaching upward, embracing the shrouded figure. They danced and swayed, casting flickering shadows across the faces of the Pack. And then dawn broke over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. We stood united in our grief and our remembrance, bearing witness to the passing of our Alpha, my father, and I knew there would be none like him again.

"Your father would be proud of you," Danni murmured as she clasped my hand briefly. Her eyes, usually so sharp, were soft with shared grief. Everyone else had left, all except my family, Danni, and Edmond. We would stay until it was all ash. Tomorrow, we would come back, plant the American chestnut, and scatter the ashes around the base. Dad's remains would nourish the sapling, connecting him to the earth and linking one life to another.

Tucker stood at Henry's side, his small frame rigid, staring into the flames. I longed to comfort him but knew he didn't want that. If I touched him, he would start to cry, and he would want to be the Alpha's son in front of everyone today.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. Turning, I found myself face-to-face with Edmond. His expression was a complex mix of emotions—sympathy, yes, but there was something else there, too. A determination that made me uneasy.

"Shya," he said softly, his eyes never leaving mine. "We need to talk. I know this isn't the best time, but we need to talk about the future. About our future."

I frowned. Was he serious? He wanted to do this now. And here of all places. "This isn't the time, Edmond."

Edmond's eyes darted around before settling back on me. "On the contrary, this is absolutely the appropriate time. Your father is gone. I know it is heartbreaking for you. It is for all of us. It's the end of an era. But we must look to the future. We must make sure the Pack is strong, stable. That it can withstand what is coming. Your father would want that. He would be counting on you to do what is right."

Uh-huh. "And that would be going through with the mating ceremony, would it?"

Edmond sighed, looking disappointed. "I understand you have feelings for Mason. But unless you can tell me otherwise, that is all they are. Feelings. You aren't sure he's your fated mate. If he was, don't you think you would be sure?"

And that was the problem. I'd let Tristan convince me not once, but twice, that he was my fated mate. My heart and body might be telling me that Mason was the one, but how could I possibly trust that?

"I … I don't know."

"Your parents, your dad, chose me for a reason. Their fated mate bond did not appear until the mating ceremony. Neither did my parents', Shya. It is not unusual. But all of our parents believe we are well suited to each other. That we are the best thing for our Pack. We must be united; we must have strong leadership in these uncertain times."

"I agree, Edmond, but aren't we moving a little fast? I need more time."

Edmond's expression softened, taking on an almost paternal concern. "I understand, Shya. But Tristan could attack again any day now; there are mutterings in the Pack that, with Michael dead and Camille grieving, maybe it is time for new blood. Perhaps even inviting Tristan back."

All the breath left my body. "That can't be right? Not after everything he's done."

"No? We are Pack creatures, Shya. No matter what else he is, Tristan is a strong leader with a clear vision. Your mother is grieving; her heart isn't here, and everyone can see that, can feel it in the Pack bonds. They want stability. Right now, some are starting to think the best way of getting that is through Tristan."

My hands curled into fists. There was no fucking way we were losing the Pack, especially not to that motherfucker. "We'll show them they're wrong. We'll show them we're still in charge, that we're still able to protect them."

Edmond nodded. "Yes. And the best way to do that …"

I blinked slowly, knowing he was right, even if my heart was breaking. I thought I would have more time to come to terms with losing Mason, but we needed a strong Alpha pair in place. Now. It was our duty to this Pack, to my dad and his vision for this place, to Henry and Tucker, who would not survive in a Pack ruled by Tristan. He would see them as potential threats that had to be eliminated to protect his rule from future challenges.

"We need to hold the mating ceremony," I said.

Edmond smiled, a soft, condescending smile that irritated the hell out of me. "Well done, Shya. I knew you would do what is right in the end."