until I felt like I was choking on my own emotions. My father, Malcolm, our Alpha, stood at the head of the pyre. The breeze pulled at his silver hair. His piercing green eyes and strong jaw made clear our family resemblance. Although he was nearing sixty years old, he had an aura of power that surrounded him, giving him an animal magnetism that was hard to deny.
His gaze met mine for a moment before he carefully washed the blood from Gabe’s face with mineral oil. The oils helped the fire dispose of the bodies faster. Cremation was the only way to ensure those from our wolf clan wouldn’t be examined by a coroner. Secrecy was a cloak our kind had worn for thousands of years.
Luke and his twin Logan stood shoulder to shoulder across from me. Their ice blue eyes pointed down at the dense wooded pyre as if they could light it with the intensity of their stares. Logan wore his light brown hair longer than his brother, but the cut of their sharp features were identical. Jared and Jason stood across from one another on opposite sides of their fallen friend.
Jason looked like a surfer with his tan skin and sun-streaked light brown hair, but he actually spent most of his time at the local hospital working as a doctor. Every pack needed one since traditional medical centers were too risky. As Malcolm applied the oils to Gabe’s body, exposing the extent of his wounds, I could see Jason studying the injuries. I bit back the urge to smack him—Gabe was our friend, not a cadaver to learn from.
Then I reminded myself it wasn’t Jason’s fault Gabe was on the pyre.
Facing forward again, I found myself staring directly into Gareth’s dark brown eyes. His rough hands clenched into fists at his side, every muscle in his arms tense. For a moment, it felt like Gabe’s twin brother could see right into my soul. Did he see the regret that weighed on my shoulders? How would Gareth go on without Gabe?
Werewolf pairs were nearly inseparable from birth. Two identical infants who would one day be identical hunters when the moon was full. Gareth was an exact copy of the mutilated body lying on the pyre behind my barn, only their haircuts differed. Gareth wore his jet black hair tied back in a ponytail, while Gabe always kept his in a short military cut. It was on the inside where the two brothers differed. There was a cold edge to Gareth. He was the first-born son by three minutes, and he took the mantle of older brother onto his shoulders like a second skin. He was always tense, while Gabe was quick to laugh. But Gareth seemed content to fade into the shadows and allow Gabe to shine.
I stared down at Gabe’s pale, lifeless face, and my chest constricted.
I’d never see him smile again.
Malcolm lifted his arms, his face up toward the stars and the sliver of moon that shone above us. The Pack lifted their heads in response as our Alpha chanted into the night.
“We offer our brother back to the moon and the night. May his spirit be lifted, free to run with the pack of our ancestors and watch over those he left behind.”
It was tradition for each Pack member to speak before the pyre was lit. Gareth, being Gabe’s last living relative, spoke first.
“I call to our father, Dominic, and our mother, Isabelle. Please guide my brother. Take him back into your arms.” Gareth paused, but his voice never betrayed the emotions he kept so well guarded. “He is no longer bound by his physical body. His spirit is free.”
After a moment of silence, Luke and Logan spoke in unison. “Run free, Gabe.”
“Spirits guide him. Moon embrace him,” Jason said quietly.
His twin Jared added, “I can almost hear you howling, Gabe. Be free.”
“Gabe…” Aren cleared his throat, but his voice wavered anyway. “Watch over your brother.”
I blinked my eyes hard trying to force back the tears that were threatening. What would happen if I ever lost Aren? We’d been together since birth, watching each other’s backs, and leaning on each
His gaze met mine for a moment before he carefully washed the blood from Gabe’s face with mineral oil. The oils helped the fire dispose of the bodies faster. Cremation was the only way to ensure those from our wolf clan wouldn’t be examined by a coroner. Secrecy was a cloak our kind had worn for thousands of years.
Luke and his twin Logan stood shoulder to shoulder across from me. Their ice blue eyes pointed down at the dense wooded pyre as if they could light it with the intensity of their stares. Logan wore his light brown hair longer than his brother, but the cut of their sharp features were identical. Jared and Jason stood across from one another on opposite sides of their fallen friend.
Jason looked like a surfer with his tan skin and sun-streaked light brown hair, but he actually spent most of his time at the local hospital working as a doctor. Every pack needed one since traditional medical centers were too risky. As Malcolm applied the oils to Gabe’s body, exposing the extent of his wounds, I could see Jason studying the injuries. I bit back the urge to smack him—Gabe was our friend, not a cadaver to learn from.
Then I reminded myself it wasn’t Jason’s fault Gabe was on the pyre.
Facing forward again, I found myself staring directly into Gareth’s dark brown eyes. His rough hands clenched into fists at his side, every muscle in his arms tense. For a moment, it felt like Gabe’s twin brother could see right into my soul. Did he see the regret that weighed on my shoulders? How would Gareth go on without Gabe?
Werewolf pairs were nearly inseparable from birth. Two identical infants who would one day be identical hunters when the moon was full. Gareth was an exact copy of the mutilated body lying on the pyre behind my barn, only their haircuts differed. Gareth wore his jet black hair tied back in a ponytail, while Gabe always kept his in a short military cut. It was on the inside where the two brothers differed. There was a cold edge to Gareth. He was the first-born son by three minutes, and he took the mantle of older brother onto his shoulders like a second skin. He was always tense, while Gabe was quick to laugh. But Gareth seemed content to fade into the shadows and allow Gabe to shine.
I stared down at Gabe’s pale, lifeless face, and my chest constricted.
I’d never see him smile again.
Malcolm lifted his arms, his face up toward the stars and the sliver of moon that shone above us. The Pack lifted their heads in response as our Alpha chanted into the night.
“We offer our brother back to the moon and the night. May his spirit be lifted, free to run with the pack of our ancestors and watch over those he left behind.”
It was tradition for each Pack member to speak before the pyre was lit. Gareth, being Gabe’s last living relative, spoke first.
“I call to our father, Dominic, and our mother, Isabelle. Please guide my brother. Take him back into your arms.” Gareth paused, but his voice never betrayed the emotions he kept so well guarded. “He is no longer bound by his physical body. His spirit is free.”
After a moment of silence, Luke and Logan spoke in unison. “Run free, Gabe.”
“Spirits guide him. Moon embrace him,” Jason said quietly.
His twin Jared added, “I can almost hear you howling, Gabe. Be free.”
“Gabe…” Aren cleared his throat, but his voice wavered anyway. “Watch over your brother.”
I blinked my eyes hard trying to force back the tears that were threatening. What would happen if I ever lost Aren? We’d been together since birth, watching each other’s backs, and leaning on each
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