CURSED LYCAN
Six months after Grand Plaza, The Vigil was drowning in success.
Sera sat in her office—an actual office now, not a corner of a warehouse—staring at requests. Forty-three this week alone. People begging for resurrection. Offering money. Power. Anything.
All had to be refused.
Elder Mira's request sat on top. The woman had come personally three days ago. Grief-stricken. Desperate. Her grandson had been eighteen. His whole life ahead of him.
And Sera had said no.
The look on Elder Mira's face haunted her. Betrayal. Rage. Pain.
"You're thinking too much," Kael said from the doorway. The bond had alerted him to her distress. "The answer was right. You know it was."
"Knowing something's right doesn't make it easier." Sera pushed the files away. "That's the forty-third person this week I've condemned to permanent grief. The forty-third family I've told that their loved one is gone forever."
