They buried their Luna on Tuesday. On Thursday she walked into her own funeral and took a seat in the front row.

The casket was closed. That was their first mistake.

Elle was at the podium in black, crying on cue, telling the hall how brave Maren had been — how the rogues came from nowhere, how nobody could have known.

Maren stood in a borrowed coat by the doors. Every wolf in the room could smell her. Not one turned around. When a pack decides you're dead, they'll explain away your scent until you're standing at the microphone.

Elle said, "She died a hero."

Maren walked down the aisle. Forks stopped mid-air.

She leaned into the mic and said, "Sit down, Elle. I want to hear that part about the rogues again — from someone who was actually there."