After what felt like hours, I forced myself to let go of her, though my heart screamed in protest. I had to bury her, give her peace. I carried Clara's body to the riverbank, the place she loved, where we’d spent countless afternoons laughing and playing. My tears fell freely as I dug the grave with my bare wolf hands.
Once she was buried, I stood over her grave, my hands balling at my sides. My daughter was gone, and someone would pay.
I heard footsteps coming behind me, and turned to see Marcel coming towards me with several warriors behind him.
"How did this happen?" I roared. "Why didn't anyone hear her scream? Why didn’t you notice rogues crossing our borders?"
Marcel bowed his head. "It was our mistake, Luna. We should have been more vigilant."
"Vigilant?" I spat the word. "My daughter is dead because of your negligence!"
He flinched, but then something in his eyes hardened. "Perhaps if you had been there, Luna, if you had been more of a mother and less of a leader, this wouldn’t have happened."
His words hit me like a slap, cutting deeper than any wound. Like his daughter Rachel, this man was nothing short of condescending.