Chapter 88: The Funeral

Seraphine's POV

Time blurred after that. I stayed curled in my corner, staring at nothing. Voices drifted up from downstairs—people arriving, leaving, talking in hushed tones. Planning the funeral. Making arrangements.

For Ember.

My chest felt hollow. Scraped clean.

The light through the window shifted from afternoon gold to the softer amber of approaching dusk. How long had I been sitting here? Hours? Didn't matter.

Footsteps on the stairs. Slow. Careful.

"Seraphine." Cordelia's voice came through the door before it opened. "The funeral starts soon. You need to get ready."

I didn't respond. Didn't move.

The door creaked open. She stepped in, dressed in black now. Dark circles under her eyes made her look older. Exhausted. "Please. I know it's hard, but—"

"I'm not going."

She crossed the room, stopped a few feet from my corner. "You have to."

"No." My voice came out flat. Dead. "I can't."

"Seraphine—"

"I can't stand there and watch them bury her." My throat tightened. "I can't."

She knelt beside me, reached for my shoulder. I jerked away.

"Don't touch me."

Her hand dropped. "Everyone's going to be there. The whole pack. They need to see—"

"See what? The person who got an innocent kid killed?" I laughed, bitter and broken. "Yeah, that'll be great."

"That's not—"

Heavy footsteps on the stairs cut her off. The door swung open harder this time. Kaelen filled the doorway, also in black. His eyes found mine immediately.

"Out, Cordelia."

She stood slowly. "Ka—"

"Now."

She left without another word. The door closed. Kaelen crossed to where I sat, each step deliberate. He stopped two feet away.

"Get up."

"No."

His jaw tightened. "This isn't a request."

"I don't care." I met his stare. "I'm not going to that funeral."

"Yes. You are." His eyes flashed gold for a second. "You're going to get up, get dressed, and stand beside me at that funeral. That's an order."

The Alpha command hit like a physical force. My body wanted to obey. Muscles tensing, preparing to stand. I fought it, pressed harder against the wall.

"Fuck you," I spat out.

The gold in his eyes brightened. The bond between us pulled tight, almost painful. His voice dropped lower, carrying weight that made my bones ache. "Stand up, Seraphine."

My legs moved. Not by choice. Just moved. I found myself standing, body obeying even as my mind screamed no.

"I hate you," I whispered.

His expression didn't change. "You can hate me all you want. After the funeral." He turned toward the door. "Cordelia will help you get ready. We leave in twenty minutes."

---

The dress was black. Simple. Long sleeves covering the bruises on my arms. Cordelia helped me into it without speaking, her movements efficient and gentle.

I looked in the mirror. Pale face. Red eyes. A ghost wearing black.

Ember should be here. Should be alive. Should be anything but dead.

Cordelia finished with the last button. "It's time."

The walk to town center felt endless. Kaelen on my left, his hand gripping mine tight enough to bruise. Cordelia on my right. Other pack members fell in around us as we walked, all dressed in black, faces solemn.

No one spoke to me. Some stared. Others looked away quickly.

The sun hung low and red on the horizon when we reached the square. Hundreds of wolves stood in silence. Eight wooden platforms at the center, white cloth covering each form. Seven large. One small.

That tiny covered shape made my stomach twist.

I stopped walking. Couldn't make my feet move forward.

Kaelen's grip tightened. "Keep going."

"I can't."

"You can." He pulled me forward, not roughly but firmly. No room for argument.

We reached the front row. The eight bodies right fucking there. So close.

Ember. That's Ember under that cloth.

My knees went weak. Kaelen's arm wrapped around my waist, holding me upright. The bond pulsed between us—him sending strength, or trying to. I couldn't feel it properly. Everything felt numb.

An old man stepped forward onto the raised platform. Long gray hair. Deep lines in his face. Elder Theron. His voice rang out in words I didn't understand. Ancient wolf language. Formal. Final.

I stared at that small covered form. Imagined her underneath. Those green eyes closed forever. That smile gone.

This is my fault. All my fault.

The Elder finished speaking. Stepped back. Kaelen released my waist, climbed onto the platform. Every eye turned to him.

"We gather to honor our fallen." His voice carried across the silent crowd. "Seven guards who died protecting Shadowmere. And one child who showed more courage than most warriors."

A few heads nodded. Someone in the crowd made a choked sound.

"But before we mourn, we must recognize two women who stood against those attackers." Kaelen paused, letting his words sink in. "Cordelia, our Gamma. A healer, yes—but also a warrior. She proved that afternoon she has both the skill and the courage to defend this pack."

Cordelia's face remained impassive, but I felt her tense beside me.

"And the other..." His eyes found mine for a brief moment. "Seraphine had no title. No rank. No obligation to fight. She could have run. Should have run, by all logic." His voice grew stronger. "But she chose to stand with Cordelia. Chose to face trained killers to protect one of our own."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some approving. Some uncertain.

"That takes bravery," Kaelen continued. "Real courage. The kind most people will never understand unless they've faced death themselves."

More nods this time. A few people glanced at me. Not with hate. With something else. Respect? Maybe.

The words felt hollow. What did bravery matter? Ember was still dead.

Kaelen stepped down. His hand found mine again.

My feet moved before my brain caught up. I climbed onto the platform, Kaelen's hand slipping from mine.

"Wait—" I started.

I turned to face the crowd. Hundreds of faces staring back. Waiting.

"The attackers came for me." My voice cracked but carried. "Not for Ember. Not for any of you. They came for me."

The murmuring stopped. Complete silence.

"They were from Ravencrest pack." The words kept coming, spilling out. "Sent by Damien. To take me back." I looked at that small covered form. "Ember died because I was there. Because they were hunting me."

Someone gasped. Whispers started, spreading through the crowd like wildfire.

"If I hadn't been here—" My throat closed. "If I'd never come to Shadowmere—"

"Stop." Cordelia's voice cut through. She pushed through the crowd, climbed onto the platform beside me. "The ones who killed Ember were Damien's wolves. Not Seraphine."

"But they came because—"

"It doesn't matter why they came!" Her voice rose, fierce and angry. "Shadowmere doesn't sacrifice pack members for safety. We don't throw people to monsters just because it's easier!"

"She's right," someone called out. An older woman near the front.

But another voice rose, sharper. Vespera. She stood three rows back, arms crossed. "Easy for you to say! You live but they've died! Why don't we just throw her out? She stays here, more of us die!"