Aria's POV
The rock hits my window at dawn.
I jerk awake, my heart pounding. Another rock follows. Then another. I crawl to the window and peek through the curtains.
A group of pack kids stand in the yard below. They're all around my age—eight, nine, ten years old. Kids I played with yesterday. Kids who were my friends.
"Murderer!" one of them shouts.
"You killed Lily!" another screams.
More rocks fly. I duck as glass shatters. A sharp piece cuts my cheek. Blood drips down my face.
"Killer! Killer! Killer!" They chant it like a song.
I press my back against the wall, shaking. I've been locked in my room for three days. Three days since Lily drowned. Three days since Dad looked at me with hate in his eyes.
Today is her funeral.
Footsteps pound up the stairs. My door flies open. Mom stands there in a black dress, her face pale and wet with tears. She's been crying for three days straight. Her eyes are so red and swollen she looks sick.
"Get dressed," she says. Her voice is empty. Hollow. "It's time."
She doesn't look at me. Hasn't looked at me since they brought Lily's body home.
"Mom—" I start.
"Just get dressed, Aria." She walks away, leaving my door open.
I put on the black dress she left on my bed. My hands shake so bad I can barely button it. The cut on my cheek is still bleeding, but I don't care.
Downstairs, the pack house is full of wolves dressed in black. They're all here for Lily's funeral. When I walk down the stairs, everyone stops talking. They all turn to stare.
The silence is worse than the shouting.
I make it halfway down before someone spits at my feet.
"Murderer," a woman hisses.
"She killed an innocent child," someone else mutters.
"The Alpha should punish her," a man says loudly. "Exile her. Make her rogue."
I keep my head down and walk faster. The crowd parts like I have a disease they don't want to catch.
Outside, a long line of cars waits to take us to the cemetery. Dad stands by the first car, talking to Beta Damien. When Dad sees me, his face hardens. He turns away.
That hurts worse than the rocks. Worse than the names. Worse than anything.
I climb into the last car alone. Nobody wants to sit with me. Through the window, I watch Mom get into the car with Dad. She collapses against him, sobbing. He holds her, whispering something in her ear.
They look like they're comforting each other.
Nobody comforts me.
The cemetery is on a hill outside pack territory. Lily's grave is already dug—a dark hole in the ground that makes my stomach hurt to look at. A tiny white coffin sits beside it.
My baby sister is in that box.
I can't breathe.
Wolves fill the cemetery. Hundreds of them. Our whole pack came, plus wolves from allied packs who knew our family. They all stand together in groups, whispering and pointing at me.
I stand alone at the back.
The ceremony starts. An elder wolf talks about Lily—how sweet she was, how kind, how full of life. He talks about her smile and her laugh and her love for butterflies.
Every word stabs my heart.
Mom cries so hard she can barely stand. Dad holds her up, but his face is stone. He doesn't cry. Doesn't show any emotion at all.
He just stares at that tiny white coffin like he's trying to memorize it.
When it's time to lower Lily into the ground, Mom screams. It's a sound I never want to hear again—pure agony, like her soul is being ripped apart.
"My baby!" she wails. "My baby girl!"
Pack members have to hold her back as they lower the coffin. She fights them, reaching for Lily, begging them to stop.
Dad doesn't move. Doesn't help her. He just watches Lily disappear into the ground with dead eyes.
The ceremony ends. People come forward to throw flowers on the grave. One by one, they pay their respects.
I wait until everyone else is done. Then I walk forward on shaking legs.
The crowd goes silent again. Watching. Judging.
I kneel at the edge of Lily's grave and place the flower I picked this morning—a daisy, her favorite. My tears fall like rain, mixing with the dirt.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so, so sorry, Lily. I love you. I'll always love you."
A hand grabs my arm. Yanks me backward.
Dad towers over me, his face twisted with fury. "Get away from her grave."
"Dad, please—"
"You don't get to mourn her." His grip tightens, bruising my arm. "You don't get to cry. You don't get to act like you loved her."
"I did love her! She was my sister!"
"She WAS your sister." He shoves me away. "Until you killed her."
The crowd murmurs in agreement. Some nod. Others glare at me with disgust.
"It was an accident," I sob. "Please, you have to believe me—"
"An accident?" Dad laughs, cold and cruel. "Taking her to the forbidden forest was an accident? Letting her drown was an accident?"
"I tried to save her!"
"BUT SHE'S STILL DEAD!" His roar echoes across the cemetery. "My daughter is in the ground, and you're standing here making excuses!"
Mom appears beside him, clinging to his arm. She looks at me like I'm a stranger. Like I'm something evil.
"Marcus," she whispers. "Make her leave. I can't look at her anymore."
Those words break something inside me. My own mother can't look at me.
Dad points toward the cemetery exit. "Go. Back to the pack house. Lock yourself in your room. I don't want to see your face."
I stumble away, my vision blurred with tears. Behind me, I hear Mom collapse into fresh sobs. Hear the pack members comforting her, telling her it's not her fault.
Nobody says that to me.
I don't go back to the pack house. I can't. Instead, I hide in the woods nearby, watching through the trees as the funeral continues without me.
Hours pass. The crowd thins. Eventually, only Dad remains at Lily's grave.
He sits down on the grass beside it. Pulls out a bottle of whiskey. Drinks straight from it.
I've never seen Dad drink before. He always said Alphas need clear heads.
But now he drinks like the whiskey can wash away his pain.
He drinks until the sun sets. Until the bottle is half empty. Until he's swaying where he sits.
Then he starts talking to the grave.
"I'm sorry, baby girl," he slurs. "Daddy should've protected you. Should've kept you safe from her."
Her. He means me.
"You were so perfect," he continues, his voice breaking. "So pure and innocent. You deserved better than this. Better than dying because your sister was selfish."
Each word is a knife in my chest.
"I miss you so much." Dad leans forward, putting his hand on the dirt covering Lily's coffin. "Every second, I miss you. The house is too quiet without your laugh. Your room is too empty without you in it."
He takes another long drink. Wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.
Then he turns his head.
Looks directly at the trees where I'm hiding.
My breath stops. Can he see me?
"I know you're there, Aria," he says quietly. Deadly quiet.
I step out slowly, my legs shaking.
Dad stares at me with empty, haunted eyes. Eyes that used to look at me with love and pride. Now they're just... vacant.
"Come here," he orders.
I walk to him on trembling legs. Stand a few feet away from Lily's grave.
Dad looks at me. Then at the grave. Then back at me.
"Why?" he whispers.
"Why what?"
His face crumbles. "Why did she die but not you?"
The world stops spinning.
Those eight words destroy me completely.
"You both went in the river," Dad continues, his voice breaking. "You both could've drowned. But only one of you died." He takes another drink. "So tell me, Aria. Why her? Why did my perfect, innocent, sweet little girl die... but you survived?"
I can't answer. Can't breathe. Can't think.
"You're older," Dad says. "Stronger. You should've protected her. Should've died protecting her. That's what a big sister does."
"I tried—"
"NOT HARD ENOUGH!" He throws the whiskey bottle. It smashes against a tree. "If you really tried, if you really loved her, you would've saved her. Or died trying."
"I almost did die," I whisper.
"But you didn't." His eyes bore into mine. "You lived. And every time I look at you, all I see is the daughter I lost. All I feel is rage that you're here and she's not."
He stands up, swaying. Takes a step toward me.
"I wish it had been you," he says softly. "I wish you had drowned and Lily survived. At least then I'd still have one daughter worth loving."
The words hit me like bullets. Each one finding its target. Destroying me piece by piece.
"Get out of my sight," Dad whispers. "Before I do something I regret."
I run.
I run through the woods, tears blinding me, Dad's words chasing me like demons.
Why did she die but not you?
I wish it had been you.
At least then I'd still have one daughter worth loving.
I run until I can't breathe. Until my legs give out. Until I collapse in the dirt, sobbing so hard I throw up.
My father hates me.
My mother can't look at me.
My pack thinks I'm a murderer.
And Lily is dead because of me.
I lie there in the dark, wishing I could disappear. Wishing I could go back in time. Wishing I had drowned in that river.
Because Dad is right.
It should've been me.
But I don't know yet that things are about to get so much worse.
I don't know that in two weeks, I'll lose my mother too.
I don't know that Dad's hate will turn into something darker. Something that will destroy what's left of our family.
I don't know that Beta Damien is watching everything with cold, calculating eyes. Already planning. Already scheming.
And I definitely don't know that this is exactly what he wants.
Lily's death wasn't an accident.
And I'm not the one who killed her.