Prophecy Of The Lycan Queen
The iron fence that circled the property sagged in places, rusted through and bent, as if the dead didn't need keeping in and the living had stopped caring enough to keep it standing.
No one came here anymore. That much was obvious.
Except for one spot.
Right where Lily stood, the ground was clear. The grass had been trimmed. The headstone was clean, scrubbed free of grime. And at its base, flowers bloomed. Not the sad, wilted things you'd expect in a place like this, but fresh bouquets, their petals still bright, still holding onto life.
Lily knelt down slowly, her knees pressing into the damp earth. She pulled a new bunch of flowers from the bag at her side… white roses, her mother's favor
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