*~ Lilith's POV~*
I stood above the trees, my boots on the thickest branch, watching everything unfold.
Dahlia cracking away into dust
O'Brien is decaying and dying.
And my daughter… running with her mates, racing toward the High House. Fear clouded their movements. Dahlia mentioned that Cyrius was awake, stirring something deep inside of them.
They thought it was over.
Fools.
Although they constructed their plans perfectly, managing to take down Dahlia but only if they knew.
I waited until the battlefield was empty. Not a wolf remained. Then I dropped to the ground, standing on my knees, walking toward the exact spot where Dahlia's body had cracked open and burned.
She wasn't gone.
I knew her. Better than she knew herself. I grew up watching her, studying her, She had cast me away from my coven after I turned a crescent and since then I've hated her.
Dahlia doesn't die.
