LAYLA

It should have been just like they said.

A bonding thing. A proud, sacred, unity-filled event, or whatever word the elders kept throwing around. Strength of the pack, honour of the bloodline, traditions passed down like heirlooms. A feast meant to remind us we were one.

Except all it reminded me of was what I’d lost.

It felt like... a funeral dressed in silver.

And I helped plan it. Because everyone expected me to do so..I gave it my all and made sure it was perfect.

Habit. Duty. ...