AMARA’S POV

Wolves can smell a lie.

That’s why I spent three hours this morning rolling in grief scent. Pressed my face into fabrics soaked with tears from pack members actually mourning, so their sadness can cling to my skin until I reeked of it.

Now when wolves scent me, they smell grief.

Not satisfaction.

The black dress fits perfectly. Modest neckline. Long sleeves. Hair pulled back in a mourning braid style - three strands - one for the Goddess, one for the pack, and one for the loss.

I look the part.

I check my reflection one last time. Let my eyes water slightly. Not enough to ruin my pretty makeup, but just enough to look like I’ve been crying.

Perfect.

Outside, I can hear them gathering. The entire pack assembling, with ranking wolves in front, warriors by the side, and families in the middle. Three hundred wolves preparing to howl their precious Mia into the Goddess’s arms.

I press my hand to my stomach. Still flat. Too early for anyone to scent the pregnancy hormones just yet. But it’s there. Damien’s pup.

The future Alpha.

Mine.

A knock at the door. “Amara? It’s time.”

I take a deep breath. Pull the grief scent closer like a cloak.

When I open the door, Maya is standing there. Her face is blotchy and swollen from actual tears. Her scent is heavy with real pain. She looks wrecked.

Pathetic.

“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Maya’s voice breaks.

I pull her into a hug, strategically letting her tears soak into my shoulder. More grief scent for me.

“I know. I know.”

She sobs against me. I rub her back gently, making soothing sounds while counting the seconds until I can let go.

Grief is really exhausting when you have to fake it.

“Come on.” I pull back gently. “Let’s go say goodbye.”

We walk to the clearing together. The same clearing where Mia was supposed to become the official Luna of the Silver Eclipse pack.

Unfortunately it’s now full of white flowers and wolves dressed in black.

The casket sits in front. Thank the Goddess. Closed caskets are much better I think. No one has to see the body.

Damien stands beside it looking like a statue carved from grief.

He hasn’t shifted since she died. His wolf is probably shredded inside him.

The pack bond is constantly pulsing with his agony. It’s actually getting annoying because every wolf - including me - can feel it.

But I keep my face soft. Concerned. Heart broken for him.

Adrian stands beside Damien, watching his brother with a dark unreadable expression. The war changed him. Gave him this predator stillness. He can sense lies better than most people.

His eyes flick to me as I approach. Something in his gaze makes my skin prickle.

He doesn’t like me. Never has.

No reason. Just instinct.

Thankfully, instincts can’t prove anything.

I take my place in the front row. The Elder steps forward to begin the funeral rites.

“We gather today to mourn Mia Morella Ashwood.” His voice carries across the clearing. “Taken from us too soon. Beloved mate, future mother, light of our pack.”

I bow my head, allowing a single tear slide down my cheek.

Around me, wolves are actually crying. Maya is shaking from sobbing. Even some of the warriors have wet eyes.

They really loved her.

Idiots.

She was just a wolf. Pretty, yes. Kind, sure. But nothing extraordinary. But certainly not worth this much grief.

Yet here they are, falling apart as if the pack bond itself is dissolving.

The Elder continues. Says something about the Goddess and eternal hunts and spirit. Bla bla bla.

I’ve heard these ceremonies a countless times.

She wasn’t that special please. She was just good at playing the perfect Luna.

So tiresome.

The Elder finishes. Wolves begin to howl the traditional mourning song in a low and somber tone. It’s supposed to guide the dead Mia’s spirit to the Goddess’s hunting ground.

I title my head back and howl with them.

It’s harder to fake a howl than tears I realize, but I manage.

Beside the casket, Damien finally moves. He steps forward, placing one hand on the wood. His lips move but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the choruses howling.

Probably something very romantic. Probably promising to love her forever or some equally useless sentiment. As if her wolf can still hear him through the severed bond.

He was always so dramatic about their connection. So consumed by her.

Well. Not anymore.

It’s now past tense.

Because the bond is gone now. Snapped clean and broken beyond repair.

He’s free.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

Maya breaks away from the crowd, stumbling towards the casket. She collapses beside it, pressing her forehead against the wood.

“I’m sorry.” She’s sobbing. “I’m so sorry. I should have noticed -“

Noticed what exactly? That her friend was dying? Or that something was wrong?

There was nothing to notice.

Adrian moves then. He crouches beside Maya, pulling her away from the casket gently. She clings to him, crying into his shoulder while he murmurs something too quiet to hear.

His eyes find mine over her head.

Again. That look.

Like he knows something.

The funeral continues. More howling, more crying, more speeches about how wonderful Mia was.

I stand through all of it, playing my part.

Grieving friend. Supporting pack member.

Inside, I’m calculating, planning, making sure every piece is where it needs to be.

By the time this is over, I’ll have everything I ever wanted.

Become the Alpha’s mate, the Luna, and have power over these three hundred pack members.

No one will ever scent what had to be done to get it.

The ceremony finally ends as the sun sets and wolves begin to disperse, heading back to the pack house in clusters. Still crying, and mourning.

I linger near the casket a bit, waiting till most of them are gone. Then I step forward, placing my hand on the smooth wood.

“I’m sorry it had to be you,” I whisper. Quiet enough that only the dead can hear. “But you were in my way, sister, and wolves don’t survive by being gentle.”