The ground beneath the rose trellis was hard.
Packed earth that hadn't been turned in years. Roots from the rosebushes tangled underneath, stubborn and strong.
Selene dug anyway.
She'd found a rusted garden spade near the groundskeeper's shed. The handle was rough. Splintered. It tore at her palms with every thrust into the soil.
She didn't care.
Isolde deserved a proper burial. Deserved to rest in her favorite place. Under the trellis where she'd played every afternoon. Where she'd woven flower crowns and told stories to imaginary friends.
Selene drove the spade down. Again. Again.
Her hands started bleeding after the first dozen strikes. Blisters formed and burst. Blood mixed with dirt on the wooden handle.
She didn't stop.
"Let me help." Alaric knelt beside her. He'd found another spade somewhere.
Together they dug.
The sun climbed higher. The gray sky remained unchanged. No birdsong. No wind. Just silence and the sound of metal biting earth.
Selene's arms burned. Her back ached. Sweat mixed with soot on her face.
She kept digging.
The hole grew slowly. A foot deep. Then two. Then three.
Deep enough that scavengers wouldn't disturb it. Deep enough that Isolde could rest.
When it was finished, Selene climbed out. Her legs shook. Her hands were raw meat.
Alaric had found a cloak. Clean somehow. Untouched by smoke or blood. Pale blue. The color of summer sky.
"For wrapping her," he said quietly.
They laid the cloak on the ground beside Isolde's body.
Selene couldn't do this. Couldn't move her sister. Couldn't accept that this was real.
But she had to.
She slid her arms under Isolde's shoulders. Alaric took her legs.
Together they lifted.
Isolde was so light. A child's weight. Nothing at all.
They laid her on the cloak. Selene arranged her sister's hair. Smoothed the yellow dress. Removed the silver dagger from her chest with shaking hands.
The weapon came out with a wet sound. More blood pooled.
Selene threw the dagger away. Heard it clatter against stone somewhere.
She couldn't look at it. Couldn't bear seeing the thing that killed her sister.
Wildflowers grew near the garden wall. Somehow untouched by fire. Yellow and white blooms. The kind Isolde loved.
Selene picked them. An armful. Brought them back to the grave.
She placed them in Isolde's hands. Folded the small fingers around the stems.
"For your journey," Selene whispered. "So you won't be alone."
Her voice broke.
She bent down. Kissed Isolde's forehead. Cold skin against her lips.
"I'll avenge you," she whispered. "I swear it. I'll make them pay for what they did. Every single one of them."
She straightened. Nodded to Alaric.
Together they wrapped the cloak around Isolde's body. Covering her face. Her hands. Everything.
Then they lowered her into the grave.
The wrapped form settled at the bottom. Small. Fragile. A child who should have grown old.
Selene's tears fell into the hole. Landing on the pale blue fabric.
Alaric began to speak. His voice cracked on the first words.
"By moon and stars, by earth and sky, we return this wolf to the Goddess's embrace."
The traditional burial rites. Spoken at every wolf funeral since the ancient times.
"May she run forever in celestial forests. May she hunt under silver moons. May she find her pack among the stars."
His voice steadened as he continued.
"Isolde Eltharion. Daughter. Sister. Child of the southern forests. Taken too soon. Taken unjustly."
A pause.
"May the Goddess welcome her. May she find peace."
Silence fell.
Selene picked up the spade. Began filling in the grave.
Each shovelful of dirt felt like betrayal. Like abandoning her sister. Like admitting she was really gone.
But she kept going.
Alaric worked beside her. Neither spoke.
The hole filled slowly. Dirt covering blue fabric. Covering wildflowers. Covering everything.
When it was level with the ground, they stopped.
Alaric gathered stones from the ruined manor. Flat ones. Heavy ones. He placed them over the fresh earth in careful rows.
A cairn. To mark the grave. To protect it from animals.
Selene helped. Her bloody hands left smears on the gray stones.
When the last stone was placed, Alaric pulled out a knife. Found a piece of scorched wood from the manor.
He carved carefully. Letters appearing in the blackened surface.
ISOLDE ELTHARION
BELOVED DAUGHTER AND SISTER
SEVEN YEARS OLD
He placed the marker at the head of the cairn. Propped it against the largest stone.
Selene stared at it. At her sister's name carved in wood.
This was all that remained. A pile of stones and a burned piece of timber.
A whole life reduced to this.
Around them, the estate continued to smolder. Thin columns of smoke rose from the ruins. Drifting into the gray sky like prayers no one would answer.
Everything was ash now. Her home. Her family. Her childhood.
All ash.
Selene knelt beside the grave. Placed her hand on the stones.
"I love you," she whispered. "I'll never forget you. Never."
She stayed there. Silent. Grieving.
Alaric let her have the moment.
Then his hand gripped her shoulder. Hard. Urgent.
"Selene."
She looked up.
His eyes were intense. Dark. Something fierce burning in them.
"Listen to me. The soldiers will return to make sure you're dead. They'll check the bodies. Search the grounds. When they don't find you..."
"Let them come."
"No." He grabbed both her shoulders. "You're not ready to fight them. Not yet. We have to leave. Now."
He pressed something into her hand.
A dagger. Small. Balanced. The blade etched with silver in swirling patterns.
"This was your father's. He carried it always. He would want you to have it."
Selene's fingers closed around the hilt. The leather was worn smooth from years of use. It fit her hand perfectly.
Her father had held this. Had carried it. Had probably meant to give it to her someday when she was older.
That someday would never come.
"Where will I go?" she whispered.
Her home was destroyed. Her family dead. She had nothing. No one. Nowhere.
Alaric's expression darkened.
"Into hiding. I know people. Wolves who live outside pack territory. Who help refugees. I'll find you safe passage."
"What about you?"
"I'll stay. Watch the estate. Make sure the soldiers believe you're dead." His jaw tightened. "And I'll gather information. Learn everything I can about the Alpha King. His weaknesses. His fears."
He met her eyes.
"But Selene, you have to promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me you'll survive. No matter what. No matter how hard it gets. You'll survive."
Selene looked at the grave. At Isolde's name carved in wood.
Everyone else was gone. Only she remained.
The marked one. The cursed one. The one who was supposed to save or destroy kingdoms.
She didn't feel like either. Just a broken child covered in blood and grief.
But Alaric was right. She had to survive.
For her parents. For Isolde. For everyone who'd died because the Alpha King was afraid.
"I promise," she said. Her voice was steady. Cold. "I'll survive."
"And when you're strong enough?" Alaric's grip on her shoulders tightened. "When you've learned to fight? To use the power the mark gives you?"
Selene met his eyes.
She knew what he was asking. What he wanted to hear.
"I'll make them pay," she said. "All of them. Starting with Alpha King Damian."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
Alaric studied her face. Searching for doubt. For weakness.
He found none.
Whatever child had existed yesterday was gone. Burned away with everything else.
What remained was harder. Sharper.
Forged in grief and hate.
He nodded slowly. Released her shoulders.
"Good. Then let's go. We don't have much time."
Selene stood. Took one last look at Isolde's grave.
"Goodbye," she whispered. "I'll come back someday. When it's over. When I've made them pay. I'll come back and tell you everything."
She turned away from the cairn.
From her sister.
From her home.
From everything she'd ever known.
And followed Alaric into the forest.
Into exile.
Into whatever darkness waited beyond.
The mark on her forehead pulsed once. Hot. Angry.
A reminder of what she was. What she'd been marked to become.
Savior or destroyer.
Right now, Selene didn't care which.
She just wanted blood.