Each handful of dirt feels like a betrayal. Like I’m failing her again.
When the grave is filled, when there’s just a mound of fresh earth to mark where she lies, I sink to the ground. My legs won’t hold me anymore.
Kieran sits beside me and pulls me into his arms. I don’t have the strength to resist. I press my face against his chest and cry even harder.
The wolves settle around us, forming a protective circle. A few rest their heads on my legs. Others lean against Kieran’s back. We’re all mourning together.
“She protected me,” I finally whisper when I can speak. My voice is hoarse, wrecked. “At all times. From the moment I arrived. She was always there, always watching over me. But I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t—”
Kieran says nothing. He just holds me tighter, one hand moving to my hair, his fingers gentle against my scalp.
I cry until I have nothing left.
“I will find whoever is responsible,” Kieran says, his voice low and deadly. “And I’ll kill them.”
I want that. I want the person who did this to pay. But something doesn’t make sense.
“Why target her?” I ask, my voice hoarse from sobbing. “Nobody knows I can communicate with these wolves. Nobody knows they—”
“Somebody clearly does,” Kieran interrupts. His jaw is set, his eyes fixed on the grave. “They know of your roots.”
I freeze. “My roots?”
He hesitates, and I see a flicker of reluctance cross his face. Like he’s weighing how much to tell me.
“You’ve had the ability to communicate with wolves since you were a child,” he says carefully. “In your past lives, you could do the same. But back then, it wasn’t a secret. People knew.”
My heart starts to pound in my ears. “What are you saying?”
“Somebody else knows about your past lives.” His eyes meet mine, and they’re filled with a grim certainty that makes my blood run cold. “This was a warning.”
I stare at him. Then, I turn to look at the freshly covered grave, at the wolves still huddled around us, grieving.
“A warning about what?” I ask slowly.
“I don’t know.” His hand tightens on my shoulder. “But this was a message. To tell you they know. To tell you they’re watching.”
“How do you know it was a warning?” My voice rises slightly. “Maybe they were just trying to kill me. Maybe—”
“They would have known that you could suppress the female alpha,” Kieran says. “And that you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to truly harm her. This wasn’t about killing you, Daciana. This was about hurting you. About making you suffer.”
The words sink in like stones in deep water. He’s right. Whoever did this knew exactly how much it would destroy me to see her like that. To have to watch as Kieran—
“Who else knows?” I demand, wiping my eyes roughly. “About me being reincarnated. Who else aside from you?”
“Only two others. Two people I trust with my life.” His expression is guarded. “And clearly the gypsy witches, but they would never harm you.”
“Who are these gypsy witches?” The question bursts out of me. “You reacted so strongly when I asked you about them before.”
Kieran’s face closes off immediately. The same look he gets whenever I get too close to something he doesn’t want to talk about.
“I’m done with the lies, Kieran.” My voice comes out as a growl. “I want the truth. Now.”
He’s silent for a long moment, staring at the grave. Finally, he exhales slowly and starts to explain.
“The gypsy witches are the most ancient lineage of witches,” he tells me. “They practice the old ways of magic. The kind that existed before kingdoms, before written history. They’re the ones who can see the threads of fate, who can read the patterns of lives lived and lives yet to come.”
“And?” I press.
