Page 11 of New Blood (Werewolf Alliance #1)

T he funeral was a small family affair. Even though the Gallagher pack consisted of more than just the family, as well as Heath, Priscilla, Chase, and Danielle, the rest of the pack members who didn’t live on the estate but worked for the various Gallagher businesses weren’t informed of Cameron’s demise.

To them, Cameron had died in a fiery car crash months earlier.

Only the family had known at the time that he was still alive.

Danielle had been up since before dawn. She’d heard sounds coming from the large clearing behind the house and had looked out of her window.

The four Gallagher men had stacked wooden logs and smaller branches into an oval shape, making sure that sufficient air gaps existed in between the wood so it would burn brightly once ignited. It had taken them hours.

Danielle had prepared breakfast, making sure there was coffee, bread, and bacon and eggs.

She didn’t bother setting the table in the dining room.

Instead, she kept the coffee warm in large thermos carafes in the kitchen and the food in stainless-steel casserole dishes over low flames like at a buffet in a motel, where people could help themselves whenever they were ready.

There was a steady flow of pack members and Werewolf Alliance team members wandering into the kitchen, having a quick bite and taking a sip of the strong coffee without staying too long.

She refreshed the coffee and the food several times, glad that Priscilla had done the weekly grocery shopping trip only a couple of days earlier.

With so many more people at the estate now, they would have to make more trips to have sufficient food for all of them. She would talk to Flora about it later.

When it was finally time for the funeral, everybody assembled, making a circle around the stack of wood.

From the kitchen window, she’d observed a little earlier that Byron and Thaddeus had carried their brother’s body, wrapped in white linen sheets, to the top of the stack and poured fuel over it and the wooden logs.

William Gallagher was flanked by his children and the rest of the family.

He looked like he’d slept badly, which wasn’t a surprise.

After all, the cell in the basement only had a small cot, no proper mattress, no comfort of any kind.

For the first time since she’d met him, he looked his age.

A few yards behind him, two of his jailers, Austin and Francisco, stood watching.

The other members of Jude’s team also stood back, giving the family their space without interfering, yet still keeping an eye on them.

Were they expecting trouble from the Gallaghers?

Danielle stood next to Priscilla and avoided looking in Jude’s direction.

She didn’t want him to notice her, not after how she’d behaved the previous night.

Instead, she quietly watched the Gallaghers and their stoic expressions.

The only family members who had tears in their eyes were Eve, Violet, and Flora.

The men didn’t show such a display of emotions, even though she noticed that Thaddeus’s irises were covered with a wet sheen.

Next to her, Priscilla sniffled before blowing her nose and pulling the collar of her jacket closer around her.

Danielle reached for her, patted her forearm in support, and earned a grateful smile from her.

Priscilla was a year younger than her, and they’d become friends, both seeking female companionship.

It was a cold, overcast January morning.

The fog hung low over the meadow and the trees, making the estate look like it belonged in a horror movie.

Danielle felt the damp air seep into her body, even though as a werewolf she was less susceptible to cold temperatures than a human.

Still, she didn’t like the cold, because she associated it with sadness and loneliness.

She’d lost her mother one winter, and ever since that day, she hated the cold.

Pushing away thoughts about her mother and how much she missed her, she looked at William. He now held a burning torch in his hand and walked toward the stack of wood where Cameron’s body lay on top. He raised the torch, then turned around, looking at the assembled.

“Cameron was meant to follow in my footsteps. He was meant for greatness… to lead a strong pack, to be master over this land and everything I’ve built. His death is a tragedy for my family and my pack. He didn’t deserve this.”

William turned slightly, this time directing his gaze toward Jude and his men.

“He was murdered in cold blood.”

There was complete silence. Nobody answered, nobody sighed or huffed or made any kind of sound, almost as if everybody had stopped breathing while William continued to glare at Jude. But Jude didn’t take the bait, didn’t respond.

She admired his self-control. A lesser man would have spoken up immediately, rebuking William’s words. Even she knew that Cameron hadn’t been murdered in cold blood. Jude had killed him to save the woman he’d turned into a werewolf. It had been a justified kill. Cameron had done bad things.

She’d always avoided him because she’d always sensed the darkness in him, like a bad apple rotting from within.

He’d never liked her and had always let her feel that she was an outsider, a nobody who should be grateful that the Gallaghers had taken her in.

She wasn’t sad that he was gone. She was relieved, because it meant she didn’t have to constantly look over her shoulder.

Or endure the casual cruelties he’d unleashed on her to make her life difficult. She had no tears for him.