Keith

Saying goodbye to Tessa, Ben, and Clinton is harder than I expect.

The house is quiet, almost reverent. There’s a different kind of weight in the air now, not just grief—but finality. Like something sacred has passed through and left the walls marked by it.

Tessa pulls me into a hug first. She doesn’t say much, just presses her cheek to my chest and holds on. Her arms are warm and grounding. For a moment, I close my eyes and let myself lean into the comfort.

“You’ll always have a place here, Keith,” she murmurs, voice low and firm. “The pack lands are yours to walk. Hope’s mausoleum is...