Riley POV
The coffin was wrong.
Riley stared at it lying in the snow, and her brain couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. The wood was too dark. The flowers were too bright. The whole thing was too small for a man like her father. He was supposed to be bigger than this. Stronger than this. Not something that fit into a box.
Snow fell on the closed lid. One flake. Then another. Then so many she stopped counting.
Around her, the Crescent Pack was falling apart.
Warriors beat their chests and howled so loud the sound cracked through the mountains. Women wailed and collapsed into their mates' arms. Children cried because their parents were crying. The entire pack was drowning in grief that felt endless and violent.
Riley felt nothing.
She stood dry-eyed at the edge of the grave, watching the snow collect on her black dress. Her feet were numb. Her fingers were numb. Her whole body had turned into something cold and hollow. It was better this way. Feeling would kill her. She knew that somehow. Feeling would open a door that could never be closed again.
Her father had died three days ago.
Three days ago, the Shadowpine Pack attacked without warning. They came across the border in the early morning when most of Crescent territory was still sleeping. Her father was one of the first wolves they found. He died fighting. That's what they told Riley. He died like a warrior.
She hadn't believed them at first. Her father was strong. He was experienced. He was the second-in-command of an entire pack. He couldn't just die. But the body in the wooden box said something different.
The funeral director was speaking words that Riley didn't hear. Something about honor. Something about legacy. Something about rest.
Her father would never rest.
That was the thing nobody wanted to say out loud. Her father would never sleep again. Never eat again. Never laugh at his own jokes or correct someone at a meeting or ask Riley why she was being difficult about the marriage proposals. Never, never, never.
Three days ago, she'd had a father. Now she had a hole.
The argument played in her head on repeat. Riley had finally told him no. She'd rejected the third marriage proposal, and he'd been furious. He said she was selfish. He said she was throwing away opportunities that other girls would die for. He said she was embarrassing the family by refusing to do her duty.
She had told him she wanted love, not politics.
He had walked out of the room.
That was the last thing he'd ever say to her.
Riley closed her eyes and pushed the memory away. It would destroy her if she let it. So she made her mind blank. She made her whole body blank. She turned into something that could stand in the snow and watch her father get buried without breaking into pieces.
The pack was starting to disperse. Some of the younger wolves were struggling to shift back to human form because the grief was too strong. Their bodies couldn't decide what they wanted to be. Warriors were organizing search parties. Someone needed to fight back. Someone needed revenge.
Riley didn't move.
Sarah found her still standing there. Her older sister looked like she'd been crying for days straight. Her eyes were swollen and her whole face was blotchy red. But when she saw Riley, Sarah's expression changed. She looked at her baby sister like she was seeing someone who'd already died.
"We need to go inside," Sarah said quietly.
Riley didn't respond. Going inside meant going home. Going home meant the empty rooms. The place where their father's voice would never be heard again. The house that was suddenly haunted by everything he never got to say.
Sarah grabbed her arm and pulled gently.
That's when Riley saw the man.
He was walking toward them across the snowy cemetery like he owned it. He wore a dark suit that probably cost more than Riley's entire wardrobe. His shoes were shined so perfectly they caught the light. Everything about him screamed power and authority. His face was sharp and angry.
He was Darius. The Alpha of their pack.
He never came to regular funerals. Alphas didn't attend the funerals of soldiers who died in war. They had councils and strategy meetings instead. They didn't stand in graveyards getting snow on their expensive clothes.
Sarah's hand tightened on Riley's arm. She felt it too. Whatever this was, it wasn't normal.
Darius stopped a few feet away from them. He looked at Sarah first and gave her a small nod. Then he looked at Riley. His eyes were cold and calculating.
"Riley," he said. Just her name. Just like that.
She felt something shift inside her. Something that had been locked down and safe suddenly started shaking loose.
"I need to speak with you. Alone."
Sarah started to protest, but Darius raised his hand. The movement was small but absolute. Sarah released Riley's arm like she'd been burned. In the shifter world, when an Alpha raised his hand, you obeyed. That was the law. That was survival.
Riley followed him away from the grave. Away from the cemetery. Away from everyone who had known her just five minutes ago. Her legs moved but felt like they belonged to someone else. Her mind was screaming that something was happening. Something that would change everything.
They walked to his car parked at the edge of the property. He opened the passenger door. It wasn't an invitation. It was a command.
Riley got in.
The car was warm and smelled like expensive leather. Darius drove in silence for what felt like hours but was probably just ten minutes. They arrived at the pack house, the massive stone building where Alpha business happened. The building Riley's father had visited hundreds of times for meetings.
Darius led her to his office.
The office was exactly what Riley expected. Big desk. Expensive paintings. Windows that showed the entire territory. Power in every corner. Darius sat behind his desk and gestured for Riley to sit in the chair across from him. She sat.
"The war is killing too many of our people," he said without preamble.
Riley said nothing. She was still trying to understand why he'd taken her away from her father's funeral.
"Warriors are dying every day. Supply lines are broken. We're losing ground. Families are losing everything." Darius leaned forward. "We need to stop this before it destroys us completely."
Riley felt something cold crawl down her spine.
"There's only one way to end this war quickly," he continued. "We need peace. Real peace. And the only way to get real peace is through a bond that both packs can trust."
His eyes focused on her like a predator.
"I need you to marry Magnus Crane. The Alpha of Shadowpine."
Riley's entire body went rigid.
"No," she said. The word came out as a whisper.
"Yes," Darius replied, and his voice wasn't unkind. That was somehow worse. "I understand this is difficult. I understand you've already refused three marriages. But this is different."
"No," Riley said again, louder this time. "I won't. You know I won't."
Darius nodded slowly. Like he'd expected her to say that. Like he had something prepared.
"Then I need you to understand what refusing means," he said. "It means more wolves die tomorrow. More families get torn apart. More warriors don't come home from battle. More children lose parents in the dark while their mothers scream."
Riley felt the room tilt.
"More children like you," Darius continued softly. "Orphans. The rest of their lives defined by a moment they couldn't control. A moment when someone they loved was taken away from them forever."
The words hit like a physical blow.
Riley opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Because he was right. He was absolutely right. There were children at that funeral today who would grow up the way she was about to grow up. Alone. Broken. Carrying a hole inside them that would never close.
"This is your choice," Darius said. "But you need to understand what each choice costs."
Outside the office windows, snow continued to fall on her father's empty grave.
And Riley realized she'd just watched the moment her entire life ended.