Natalia’s POV
My father’s funeral was held the next morning. We carried his body to the plaza, where a pyre had been built from oak and pine. The entire pack gathered in a circle around it.
Andrei stood beside me with Hope in his arms. The twins flanked my other side, Jane clutching my hand while Max stood with his arms crossed, staring at the pyre with a knowing, solemn look on his face that no mother ever wanted to see.
David stepped forward and lit the fire. The flames caught quickly, spreading across the wood with a crackling roar. I watched my father’s body disappear into the smoke and forced myself not to look away. He deserved that much from me, at least.
The fire burned for hours. Bloodmoon funerals were different; there was no structure. People came forward at will to share st
