The fires burned for two days.We lit them at the southern edge of the forest, one pyre for each of the fallen. Seven warriors. Four women. And a boy too young to know how to hold a blade.I stood among the mourners, wrapped in a black shawl, the scent of smoke clinging to my skin. My hand rested low on my belly, as if to shield the twins from the grief pressing down on us all. No one spoke.The flames crackled high into the morning sky above us, the sky churned between gray and blue, refusing to choose. And the ashes of our dead were taken by the wind. Catherine said a few words over each pyre. I couldn’t tell you what they were. My ears only heard the mothers sobbing. The warriors staring hollow-eyed at the flames. The little boy clutching his father’s sword because his father would never come home to wield it again.The pack had survived the attack. But we would never be the same. I didn’t move until the last pyre burned low and the wind carried the ashes into the trees.In the
Last Updated : 2025-07-17 Read more