Chapter 239

Ava

The death bell tolled in Moonstone.

The sky was dark and gray, a storm threatening to spill over the horizon—almost as though the sky, too, knew the gravity of what we had to do today.

Today, we would be burning our friend’s casket. Today, we would say goodbye for the last time.

It had been three days since Dr. Foster’s visit, three days of preparation and planning and tears. And now, as we made our way to the pyre, the reality of what we were doing was finally sinking in.

Ophelia walked alongside me behind the casket, her slender form leaning on me for support. I rubbed her back in large, slow circles, my head bent. Her face had been hidden behind her mourning veil all morning, but I could hear her soft sniffles and whimpers as we made our way toward the pyre.

“Beta Leonard… Oh, Leonard… Dear Leonard…” The pack’s whispers seemed too loud in this dense quiet, their voices pressing in from all directions. Trembling hands reached out as we passed, brushing across the funeral shroud.

Chris had picked out the shroud; a heavy, thick, dark blue fabric. Not black, because…

“We are so sorry for your loss.”

I snapped my gaze up to see the Elders standing in a uniform row ahead of us, their heads bowed and their hands hidden between the draping sleeves of their robes. But I was only looking at Elise, watching her face, trying to hide the furious sneer on my own.

You did this, I wanted to say. This is all your fault… You should be ashamed.

Her face betrayed nothing, but that was the point; nothing. Not a tear. Not a whimper. Nothing.

Because she had planned this. Perhaps it didn’t go entirely to plan, because there was only one casket approaching the pyre today, but she had still accomplished something. She had weakened Moonstone, killed our Beta before the blight had.

And for that, she would suffer. But not now. Not today.

The casket was placed on the pyre, and Chris stepped forward to light it. The flames licked at the wood, slowly engulfing that dark blue fabric. Once it had caught, he stepped back, handing the torch off to a nearby attendant before he turned to address the pack.

“We are here to say goodbye to Leonard, our Beta, our friend,” he announced, his voice ringing clearly across the crowd. “He was taken from us too soon by this mysterious fungus that plagues our land.”

His voice cracked slightly, and I bowed my head. Ophelia trembled a bit as she leaned against me, pressing her handkerchief to her lips.

“Leonard was more than just our Beta,” Chris continued. “He was like a brother to me, a mentor, a pillar of strength for our pack. His loss leaves a void that can never truly be filled. He faced his illness with courage and grace, never once complaining about his fate, never once agreeing to leave Moonstone for fear of leaving us when we needed him most.”

As Chris continued his eulogy, I glanced around at the pack, gauging their reactions. Faces streaked with tears, heads bowed in respect. Even those who hadn’t known Leonard all that well seemed affected by the loss.

After the pyre had burned down, we moved to the memorial service in the Packhouse. I sat with Ophelia, who continued to keep her face hidden behind her mourning shroud. Her hand trembled in mine as we listened to stories about Leonard’s life and accepted condolences from pack members.

The Elders eventually came by, offering their own condolences. Elder Claire’s eyes were red-rimmed as she approached us with Fatima’s arm linked through hers.

“He was a good man,” she said softly, patting Ophelia’s gloved hand. “We will all miss him dearly. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Ophelia merely nodded. She hadn’t spoken a word all morning.

Elise approached next, her face a mask of shock and sorrow. Liar, I wanted to hiss. What a miserable little act—I could see right through it. But I remained silent, even when Ophelia’s nails dug through her gloves and into my skin.

“I... I’m so sorry for your loss,” Elise mumbled, barely meeting our eyes. Her hands twisted nervously in front of her.

“Thank you, Elder Elise,” was all I could manage.

As she walked away, it took all my strength not to pull back my lip and reveal my fangs to her.

As the memorial service went on, the murmurs regarding our pack’s safety continued to grow. We had expected this; people were scared that they, too, would meet the same fate as Leonard. I gave Chris a small nod, and he stood to address the pack once more.

“I know many of you are worried about the blight that took Leonard from us,” he began. “I want to assure you that we are doing everything in our power to combat it. Our scientists are working tirelessly to find a solution.”

He paused, taking a deep breath. The tension in the air was palpable as everyone waited for his next words. I, too, stiffened, even though I knew what he would say next.

“However, if the moonstone is not returned and the blight is not eradicated within two weeks, we will have no choice but to evacuate to the human world.”

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room. I saw fear and uncertainty on many faces. Parents pulled their children closer, and friends exchanged worried glances.

“But I assure you that this would only be temporary,” Chris quickly added, raising his hands to calm the growing unrest. “Miss Ophelia, Luna Ava, and I have secured land where we can live safely, relatively secluded from humans. We will return to Moonstone as soon as it’s safe to do so. I promise you, we will not abandon our home.”

The lead scientist working on the blight stepped forward next. “I would like to add that Leonard became sick because he inhaled spores directly from a catalyst,” he explained. “If anyone has been near a catalyst recently—which you can identify by its spiky exterior and acrid smell—please see a doctor immediately. However, unless you have been in very close proximity, you should be safe.”

He went on to urge everyone to wear masks outside, wash their hands frequently, and continue reporting any sightings of the blight. “We are all in this together,” he concluded. “By working as a community, we can overcome this threat. Let us not allow our Beta to have died in vain.”

The memorial service continued late into the evening. People shared stories of Leonard, laughter mingling with tears as they remembered the good times. Ophelia, Chris and I remained at our table, quiet. Ophelia’s face remained hidden behind her shroud.

By the time it was over, exhaustion had settled deep in my bones. Chris, Ophelia, and I made our way back to my cottage in silence, our feet dragging from the long day.

As soon as we were inside, I let out a long breath, leaning against the closed door. “Goddess, I need a drink.”

Ophelia ripped off her mourning veil and tossed it onto the armchair. “Me too, darling. I don’t think I can take another minute of this.”

Chris nodded and strode over to the cellar door, flinging it open. “I think we could all use one. It’s been a long day.”

We headed down to the wine cellar, the promise of a good vintage calling to us. The stairs creaked under our feet, the sound echoing in the quiet house. But as we descended, a new sound reached our ears—one that was conveniently muffled by the thick cellar walls.

Music. And laughter.

Grinning, we hurried the rest of the way down and rounded the corner. And there, amongst the bottles and barrels, sat Leonard and Patrick, glasses in hand and grins on their faces. Ophelia ran to Leonard, kissing him on the cheek.

Leonard raised his glass to us, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Well, that was a good show, wasn’t it?”