Winona’s calm facade began to crumble as she saw me walking closer to the urn. “Stop her!” she shrieked; her voice laced with panic. “My baby has suffered enough. I won’t allow him to be disturbed again!”
At her command, the wolfmen seized me, their grip like iron as they held me back, preventing me from reaching my goal.
“Let me go!” I thrashed against them, my voice hoarse from screaming, but their hold was unyielding.
Trent stepped closer and his face twisted with anger. “Niana, Winona is already heartbroken over her dog’s death. And here you are, digging up its grave, making everything worse. You’ve gone too far. Apologize to her, now!”
“Never!” I spat, the word bursting from me with all the venom I felt. Winona had dug up my mother’s grave—my mother, who had been nothing but good and kind.
I wanted to tear Winona apart for what she had done, to make her pay for every moment of agony she had caused.