Alpha Theodore's funeral fell short of Fiona's expectations. The ongoing battle forced them to keep the ceremony modest, which only deepened her despair. Once the burial ended, she refused to leave her bed.
Draven, her younger brother, was far too young to grasp the gravity of their situation, let alone assume leadership of the pack. This left Reginald to shoulder the entire burden.
The power shift went smoothly. Nobody challenged his authority, though they stopped short of calling him alpha outright. By blood, that title belonged to Draven. Still, driven by their thirst for vengeance against their fallen leader's killers, the pack willingly obeyed Reginald's commands.
Reginald didn't push for the formal title. Forcing the issue too soon would backfire. He needed their rage burning hot, ready to direct at their enemies.
Honestly, this outcome exceeded his wildest plans. He couldn't believe his incredible luck. His stars had never aligned so perfectly.
