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She raises an eyebrow at me and then scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“I’m bored,” she whispers, pulling her phone out of her bag. Several of the pack members around us gasp in surprise.

Sylvie’s behavior is abysmal, and I grit my teeth. The way she’s acting not only reflects poorly on our pack, but as my intended mate, it reflects poorly on me.

“Put that away, or I’ll smash it on the ground,” I tell her harshly.

She just curls her lip and takes a step back, just out of reach.

“No,” she says, with a cruel smile. I clench my fists in anger.

My mother gives me a concerned look, and I turn my attention back to the rite. Yelena is brushing tears from her eyes, and it makes my heart hurt.

Her pain is my pain, and I wish there were something I could do to fix it. If I could, I would hold her and lend her my strength while she grieves. But I can’t. Not anymore.

Finally, the rites are concluded, and we all bow our heads as the Moon Goddess blessing is read out. Then the first torch is lit and reverently placed under the pyre. The rites of our ancestors require the burning of our earthly forms. It is said that, through the ash, we are able to free our spirits and return them to the Moon Goddess. I exhale a sigh of relief.

It’s done. We got through it. Callie has been laid to rest, and I have survived the Farewell Rite without losing my mind and confronting Yelena.

Sylvie leaves as soon as the fire starts to burn, mumbling something about how she hates the old-fashioned traditions ofour pack. I let her go and instead stay in my place, watching over Callie and the remaining members of our pack who have stayed to pay their respects.

The crowd dwindles over time, but as long as Yelena is there, I’m not moving. She has remained in the same spot, sitting on the ground with her arms around her knees. Every so often, she’ll throw a flower or bundle of herbs into the fire, making a little popping sound.

“I got the information you requested,” Vincent says, sliding in next to me. He’s holding a manila envelope, and I take it, ripping it open to scan the contents inside.

“You’re sure?” I ask, looking over at him with wide eyes.

“I verified it myself, sir,” he says, solemnly.

I look down at the paper again and read the name.

“Cleo,” I say, letting it roll off my tongue. “Age five.”

Yelena’s daughter.The next Seer.

I don’t have proof, but I know it in my heart. Cleo is mine as much as she is Yelena’s. I look over at Yelena. Even though I have every right to be angry, I realize I’m not mad at her for hiding Cleo from me.

When Yelena left, we weren’t in a good place. I wouldn’t have known how to handle that news then. While I’m sad that I have missed out on part of my child’s early childhood, I’m grateful that her mother was protective of her and still is.

Protective like a Luna should be.Like my Fated Mate.

My wolf growls, and I clench my fist, trying to keep control over myself.

I still have to figure out how to deal with the fact that Cleo is a Seer. It will need to be handled delicately and quickly. The consequences of word getting out about her, before she’s under the protection of the pack, are too dire to consider.

But now that I know, I’ll be able to protect her too. There’s no way Yelena won’t choose the obvious choice for her daughter’s safety.Our daughter.

She’ll come home. It’s the only reasonable choice.

My mate and my daughter.Living here where they belong.

My wolf wants to howl with joy.

“Set up a cottage ready near mine,” I tell Vincent quietly. “Both of them are moving back home.”

Chapter Seventeen

Yelena