Echoes of the Pack

reflecting her rebellious grunge style. The dress is a vintage 1950s pencil design that used to fit her perfectl

me and suggests, "She'd want you t

y feet and reply, "Yeah, she'd love to

hemselves in work before Azura's coffin is even lowered into the ground. I hope they don't make me go along with them. If I'm lucky, they'll le

arm and asks, "

my actions are mere routine. I want to leave

spite what others believe. I know my sister, and I'm certain she wouldn't have left m

d become in the months leading up to her death. Over the past year, Ahren rarely visited our house

ms to be the one topic we couldn't address. Who was the man in her room, and wh

he aftermath of his destruction in Azura's room. She was on her knees, in tears, but

woken from a bizarre dream, so maybe that was part of it. Everyone seems to accept it as the truth, as if I've fabricated this story to cope.

lo

from downstairs. I had

se when something catches my eye. A mark – no, a bruise – on my ch

reverberates through the house. I hastily apply so

oor, my parents are alr

remarks with a sigh, apologizing when my mom taps his shoulder.

fer to contemplate the possibility of a car accident an

an open casket, but we couldn't go through with it due to the rope burns on her ski

re we having a funeral for her when they haven't even found

. When did my sister become a lifeless body? Is it wrong fo

d, and I recognize her as one of the lunch ladies from our hi

loved by everyone here. In this small town, she was like a perpetual flame. Their condolences are well-i

young to ac

s a great loss

be incredibly diffic

n't blame y

age to utter a word. My tongue feels as if it belongs to a

etective Dristan, who is shaking my father's hand and giving

e dabs her eyes with a tissue. She gives my hand

ter took her own life and betrayed us. He's no different from all these hypocrites who speak kindly of her in public b

ggling to maintain an even tone, aware

ht, Mr. Nightglow." I glance at him, and he repe

him away from my parents.

a's fresh grave. I can see his lips moving as he speaks, but all I can think

pression on my face and says, "

shifts uneasily when my silence persists, but I can't

he inquires, I nod, though I'm

e my head, and he chuckles. "You're muc

he la

lip, and my subdued t

arms, "I know you feel alone right now, Alora. I've heard that you

t the dance studio, but we don't spend time together outside of practice. There's my dance partner, but aside from dancing, we don't share much in common. Ahren

lie, "Ye

o my usual emotions. It's empty and strange, like something invisible and intangible, something I can't see, smell, or e

you to

nse, causing me to clutch the top of a headstone briefly for support before pulling my h

he numbness enveloping me due to grief might somehow

s Lucien." The boy, with his disheveled black hair and penetrating eyes, lost someone c

n, and he stands firm and silent, his shoulders squared, giving the impression

d feels. Even though I'm sweltering, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and I shudder invol

t. "I don't have anything to say to anyo

to speak, but Lucien takes a

of person who would have a wide, toothy grin, but this peculiar smile makes my cheeks flush

are in conversation with Ahren and his mother. Then, he extends hi

ing color of his eyes and accept h

n withdraws and addresses Lucien with a

I nod and shake his hand

rse. If any new developments arise i

, he's already focused on me. I swiftly turn away, leading him away f

offer, not quite sure what to say

ff smile as I continue walking alongside him through the cemetery. "I'm sure

uch to me anymore. But it's nice that people s

Point High," he remarks as we stroll a

d. "

ea

my gaze directly. My heart skips a beat, and I hurriedly avert my eyes,

s death? Offering me a handsome boy as a distractio

y?" I recall th

you know about D

aid it before. I look at him, and he meets my gaze with such intens

me. I observe the people at the cemetery tossing dirt into the pit. As I inhale deeply,

his chest. He appears as if he'd rather be elsewhere, and I wonder why Dristan paired us up.

for what

only after a loss like that," he responds

t I believe some folks say it out of empathy, not sympathy. They can't fathom what it

th a raised eyebrow. "Don't hold back; that's p

offended by your surprise,"

e, a sight I haven't seen in weeks. When he gazes down at me with that wide, cheerful grin and those honey-hazel eyes, I f

ear my name called. My mom

unmistakable wolf's cry. I halt in my tracks, my heart pounding

d on my back just above my tailbone and gently u

more, Lucien's laughter fills the air, provoking an irritated look from

le. "It's been nice...talking to you, Alora," he adds a

e whispers my name, an unfamiliar warmth washes over me. He wit

ual symbol resembling a circle with two crescents flanking it. "This is from Azu

I inquire, my voic

did," my mother re

ices, and crystals. Body chains, anklets, and numerous silver bracelets, akin to the ones both Azura and I wo

fingers run through my hair. She speaks to me in hushed tones, but I can't

yes mirroring the color of pine trees. Emeral