For days, the silence in the pack was the worst sound I'd ever heard. Not a single servant dared breathe too loudly, and every step echoed like thunder. The entire pack was in mourning.
Mother's hand brushed mine as we entered the council chamber. She didn't look at me, but I felt the tremor in her fingers before she pulled them away.
The elders were already waiting. Some sat stiffly, others hunched with grief. Their eyes followed us like shadows. We all looked as if we hadn't slept since the incident, dark circles under our eyes.
"Luna, Princess." An elder's voice cracked despite its weight. "The King's death is our wound; the pack bleeds with you."
Mother only inclined her head. "Your loyalty is noted." No gratitude, nothing, just noted.
Another elder jabbed his cane against the floor. "But wounds invite predators. Dark Moon Valley already watches. They smell weakness."
"Do not name them like a curse," another elder muttered. His fingers trembled in his lap. "We've suffered enough without summoning more."
In unison, the rest spoke, "Summoning or not, they are coming. We either defend or we die."
I swallowed. "So what do we do?"
All their eyes swung to me. My voice had come out too loud, but I didn't care.
Mother straightened. "We seal the borders, soldiers on every side, north, south, east, west. No one enters without our eyes on them."
All the elders' hands shook in their laps. One spoke so softly we almost missed it. "And how will we feed them? Pay them? The treasury runs thin already."
Mother looked at them. "Better hungry than enslaved." Everyone fell silent. Then murmurs rippled across the chamber. My heart hammered, listening to their voices clash like swords.
Mother raised her hand. "Enough. The borders will be guarded. We will find a way to fund it, even if I must strip this palace of every jewel."
The elders fell silent at her iron tone.
I stepped forward, surprising myself as much as them. "And the King's body?" My voice trembled but grew stronger with each word. "He must be buried at once. Father deserves honor, not decay. The pack needs to mourn, to howl for him, to see him laid to rest."
One elder tilted his head, studying me. "You speak with urgency, Princess."
"Because I feel it!" My fists clenched. "If we wait, his body rots while the pack drowns in whispers. He must be buried tomorrow at dawn, before doubt poisons us all."
One by one, the elders murmured agreement.
Mother looked at me, unreadable, but I thought I saw anger flicker through her grief. "So be it. The King will be buried tomorrow at dawn."
I could not hold it in any longer. "We must also investigate Dada's death."
Mother was the first to speak. "Too soon, Riya. He hasn't even been laid to rest yet, and you want to throw suspicion into the air? The pack bleeds already; must you cut it deeper?"
My nails bit into my palms. "Too soon? How long, then? Until the traitor comes for you? For me? Don't you want to know who killed your mate?"
Her eyes flared like fire, and the room felt tightened around us. "You presume poison when there is no proof," she said. "You presume betrayal when the people need comfort, not panic."
"I presume nothing," I shot back, raising my voice. "I know what I saw, the way his cup trembled from his hand, the blood and foam at his lips, the stillness that took him too quickly. That was not age, not weakness. That was murder, and even the doctor confirmed it."
An elder with a beard white as snow struck his cane on the stone floor. "The Princess speaks the truth. The Alpha heir has no brother, no sister, no cousin. If she falls, our line dies with her. If the King was poisoned, the hand that poured it still lurks in these halls. We cannot risk silence."
Another elder nodded fiercely. "That is right. If we ignore the serpent, it will coil around our throats one by one. We must tear the mask from the killer, even if the pack drowns in grief."
"Enough!" Mother snapped. "Do you not hear yourselves? His body is barely cold, and you speak of masks and serpents and shadows? What will the people say if their leaders turn on one another before the dawn has passed?"
"They will say," I answered, every word burning in my throat, "that their Luna fears to look the truth in the eye. That she fears to admit her King was slain under her very roof."
Mother looked upset. I thought she might strike me across the face as she had always done when I spoke up as a child. Instead, she turned her head away.
"Oh, I cannot bear this." She lifted her hand as if to brush away the air itself. Her steps echoed as she swept toward the chamber doors. "I cannot deal with this madness."
The doors slammed open under her hands. "Summon my convoy," she commanded. "Double the riders. No one crosses our borders without being seen. Guards! Post soldiers north, south, east, west. Let Dark Moon Valley choke on disappointment if they watch us now."
She turned to a maid who trailed behind. "Bring me my mourning cloak, the black one. If I must walk in the shadows, then I will wear them proudly." Then she turned back and looked at me "double security around Riya, monitor everything she eats or drink…I'm out"
I looked into the air. "First Father, now this. Mother at war with us…" My voice cracked. "How can we endure?"
The elders stirred uneasily. "This is not a time for weakness, Princess," said the eldest among them, his eyes hard though wet with sorrow. "It is a time to gather strength. Weep if you must, but then rise. For if you falter, the pack falters. And if the pack falters, we are lost."
The palace thickened with grief. We all walked to cover Father's pictures with a black veil, a royal tradition.
"Cover his portraits," one elder said. "Let the walls of this palace know our sorrow. Let every corner weep."
I rose shakily to my feet. Together we moved through the chamber, hanging the black cloth over Dada's painted face. His eyes, once so alive even in oil, disappeared behind darkness.
"Princess," another elder said gently, "this is our way. We hide his face so that his memory may burn brighter in our hearts. We cover the image, but never the soul."
Maids wept quietly as they draped veils over every likeness. The guards bowed their heads, as if ashamed, their tears falling to the floor. Even the stiffest elder, who had spoken little, now trembled openly.
I looked at everyone. "By remembering his strength, not his death," I spoke firmly. "The traitor sought to silence him. Do not let them silence you."
Mother wasn't even here to veil him.