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Author: TanuS
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-01 22:35:37

Dante stood motionless in the temple, surrounded by the haunting echoes of chants reverberating through the sacred halls. The air was filled with sorrow, heavy with the weight of a loss that was too great to bear. Every member of the pack stood solemnly, their heads bowed in grief. Their mourning was not just for any warrior, they had lost the heart of their pack. They had lost Liam.

Liam had been more than just his Beta. He had been his brother, his confidant, his family in every way that mattered. And now he was gone, reduced to ashes because of a war Dante had fueled with his own hatred and thirst for revenge. The guilt gnawed at him, tightening its grip around his chest. Had he not been so blinded by his anger, had he made different choices, would Liam still be alive? But it was too late for regret. The damage was done, irreversible.

His gaze drifted through the crowd until it settled on a frail, elderly woman with a head full of stark white hair. Her face, etched with deep lines of grief, bore the mark of a mother who had buried more family members than any soul should ever endure. And now, with Liam gone, she had lost the last of them. Dante swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he watched Vespera kneel beside the grieving woman, whispering quiet words of encouragement . He wished he could offer the same comfort, but what words could possibly lessen such a loss?

The ceremony carried on and then there was a final veneration for Liam’s soul. It was only when the rituals concluded that the pack began to exit the temple, and then their grief turning into something darker that was rage. Dante barely stepped outside before one of his men approached him while fury was blazing in his eyes.

"Aloha," the man began, voice seething with anger. "What shall we do about the Rosetti bitch?"

The mention of the Rosetti name sent a fresh wave of anger coursing through the pack. They all despised that forsaken clan, the very people responsible for Liam’s death.

"Shall I torture her to death?" the man asked, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.

Dante did not answer immediately, his mind clouded with exhaustion and grief. Before he could respond, Vespera stepped forward, her presence commanding.

"How do we treat our prisoners, Rome?" she asked, her voice firm yet calm.

Rome turned to her, his expression darkening. "We have a whole code for dealing with prisoners," he admitted, though the words were laced with reluctance.

"Exactly," Vespera continued, her tone unwavering. "And what makes you think she doesn’t deserve to be treated in accordance with that code?"

Rome’s fists clenched. "Because Liam died because of her," he spat.

"He did," Vespera acknowledged. "And we will mourn him. But as pack leaders, we are bound by the laws that govern us. We cannot abandon them now, not even in the face of grief."

Rome’s nostrils flared, his anger barely contained. "Liam’s pyre hasn’t even cooled, and you're already acting like the next Beta," he said, his voice dripping with bitterness.

Vespera exhaled slowly but did not rise to his provocation. She had always been level-headed, always guided by reason when others were ruled by emotion. And right now, her calm presence was the only thing keeping the pack from descending into chaos.

Dante pressed his fingers against his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping in. As if the loss of his brother wasn’t enough, now he had to deal with the inevitable power struggle that would follow. Liam’s death had left a void in the pack’s leadership, and the question of who would take his place loomed over them like a storm cloud.

Would it be Rome, driven by vengeance and brute force? Or Vespera, with her measured wisdom and unshakable sense of duty? Or perhaps someone else entirely? The very thought exhausted him.

Right now, all he wanted was silence just a moment to grieve without the weight of leadership pressing down on his shoulders. But there was no room for that. The pack was looking to him, waiting for his command.

And he knew one thing for certain: this was only the beginning.

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