DAISYI burst into tears before throwing my arms around him.He holds me briefly. I can feel his heart beating rapidly, too fast and too irregular.He's dying, just as Grandma felt through their bond.The realization is a physical pain in my chest.He pulls away and leads me to a sheltered corner away from the fighting. It's behind the remains of what was once our community well.His movements are growing sluggish and his breathing is more labored with each step."Listen to me carefully, Daisy," he instructs, his voice weaker now."My end is here... but yours hasn't come. If it does... I'll sacrifice what's left of my life for you and your grandmother." Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth, and his skin has taken on an ashen hue.He winces in pain as his hand goes to the silver embedded in his chest."She's in pain now... I can feel her through our bond. Listen, you must return to her and find a solution, a treatment, anything to help her bear my death. When mates have been bon
DAISY"Planning? What do you mean? Who's been planning?" I kneel beside her as my voice rise with panic. "Grandma, please, I don't understand any of this. Why did Grandpa say this isn't our pack? Who are these people attacking us? Why do we have to go to the Claw pack?"She doesn't get to answer before she suddenly collapses fully to the ground and cries out in pain.Her hand clutches at her chest, her face contorted in agony. Her body convulses and her back arches off the ground as if she's being electrocuted."Grandma!" I kneel beside her, panic rising in my throat."What's wrong? Why are you in pain?" I grab her shoulders in an attempt to steady her trembling form."Your grandfather is dying," she gasps, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks."We're losing him. I can feel it through our bond. They've hurt him badly, Daisy. They're killing him." Her eyes are wide with a pain I can't even imagine.Her words hit me like a physical blow.Grandpa dying? No, it can't be true.He's al
DAISYHis words hit me like a physical blow.Not our pack?What does he mean?We've lived here my entire life.This is the only home I've ever known and these people are the only community I've been part of.How could we not belong?"What do you mean, 'not our pack'?" I demand as confusion momentarily override my fear. "We've always lived here!""Even if they helped us before and accepted us as one of them," Grandpa ignores my question, "I would be a traitor if I didn't stand with them now. They gave us sanctuary when we needed it most. I owe them this much."Grandma appears at the top of the stairs. Her face is pale in the dim light. She's dressed with a small bag clutched in her hands."Is it time?" Her voice is remarkably calm given the circumstances.Grandpa nods once, and some unspoken understanding passes between them.Have they been expecting this? Were they prepared for an attack while I remained oblivious?I don't get to process this realization before a deafening explosion r
DAISYThe firmness in his tone leaves no room for discussion, so I nod and follow him outside to the garden, leaving Grandma to her cooking with a puzzled expression on her face.The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the well-tended lawn, and the scent of fresh-cut grass mingles with the fragrance of Grandma's prized roses.The garden has always been their shared passion, combining his strength for the heavy work and her eye for beauty in the arrangement.We sit on the soft grass under the old maple tree that has shaded three generations of our family.Its leaves rustle softly in the gentle breeze, creating dappled patterns of light and shadow across our faces.I pull my knees to my chest as I suddenly feel like a child again, waiting for a lecture about responsibility or pack rules that I might have broken without realizing it.I smile at Grandpa before tilting my head back to look at the sky. The clouds drift lazily overhead, peaceful and unconcerned with the chaos of my life.
DAISYThe firmness in his tone leaves no room for discussion, so I nod and follow him outside to the garden, leaving Grandma to her cooking with a puzzled expression on her face.The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the well-tended lawn, and the scent of fresh-cut grass mingles with the fragrance of Grandma's prized roses.The garden has always been their shared passion, combining his strength for the heavy work and her eye for beauty in the arrangement.We sit on the soft grass under the old maple tree that has shaded three generations of our family.Its leaves rustle softly in the gentle breeze, creating dappled patterns of light and shadow across our faces.I pull my knees to my chest as I suddenly feel like a child again, waiting for a lecture about responsibility or pack rules that I might have broken without realizing it.I smile at Grandpa before tilting my head back to look at the sky. The clouds drift lazily overhead, peaceful and unconcerned with the chaos of my life.
DAISYThe kitchen is wonderfully warm and fragrant with the smell of fresh baking.Grandma stands at the counter, aggressively kneading dough for what I assume will be her famous cinnamon rolls.The radio plays softly in the background. It's a classical piece that I recognize as one of her longtime favorites.I approach her cautiously and wrap my arms around her from behind.She stiffens noticeably at my touch but doesn't pull away, which I take as a positive sign.Her body is thin but surprisingly strong. A testament to her lifelong habit of gardening and constant housework."Grandma, I'm so sorry," I say sincerely while resting my cheek on her shoulder.The familiar scent of her perfume, lily of the valley, the same she's worn since I was a small child brings a sudden rush of precious memories."I didn't want to leave without telling you everything, but I had to go. I'm sorry I worried you both so much. You haven't really spoken to me for a whole week. How could you do that? Didn't