Chapter one hundred nineteen

Alina sat on a wooden bench outside the pack quarters, staring into the dying embers of the burial pyres. The air was thick with smoke and sorrow. No one spoke to her. No one even looked in her direction. It was like she had become a ghost, a presence too unsettling to acknowledge.

Except for Lizzy.

Lizzy stayed close, talking about random things, cracking jokes that Alina barely responded to. She was trying—God, she was trying—but the weight in Alina's chest wouldn't lift.

The bonfire ritual that was supposed to honor their fallen had been canceled. No celebrations, no closure—just an empty night filled with whispers and doubt.

When Marcus dismissed the pack, Alina made a decision.

She wasn't going home with him.

She saw how he avoided her all night. How he couldn't even look at her. And if he wouldn't face her, then she wouldn't force him to.

Instead, she walked to Dana's car.