Page 7 of Destined Mate

“I’ll do my best to be of any help I can to you,” Jerome said. “So, maybe increasing patrols might not be a bad idea. Maybe add the enforcers, so no one gets too tired.”

“Already done,” Henry said.

With Henry gone to see to his duties, Jerome took a deep breath and prepared himself for the day ahead. There was much to do before tonight: reviewing security measures, speaking with other betas about possible strategies if things went south, and trying to coax more details from his elusive visions.

Despite the gravity of their situation, there was an undercurrent of excitement within him—a spark that hadn’t been there before Li Li’s unfortunate demise. It wasn’t just anticipation or fear. It was something else entirely... Hope? Perhaps so.

AS EVENING approached and shadows lengthened across the forest floor outside, Jerome showered, then dressed in traditional garb suitable for the laying to rest of an alpha werewolf.

His black pants, shoes, and shirt matched the dark cloak embroidered with moon and star motifs, symbolizing the eternal night skies where his people believed werewolf spirits roamed freely after death.

His attire was somber yet dignified, reflecting both the gravity of the ceremony and the respect owed to Li Li, who had led them with strength and wisdom.

They would place their alpha on a pyre assembled in the forest’s heart, an ancient grove where generations of their ancestors had received similar honors.

It was a place heavy with the scent of pine and history, where the whispers of the past seemed to echo through the rustling leaves. The weight of his pack’s eyes rested heavily on him as he approached the sacred site.

The atmosphere was thick with grief and the collective mourning of a pack that had lost not just a leader, but also a beloved member of their family.

As he reached the clearing, Jerome saw the pack had done their part beautifully. They’d carefully constructed the pyre, layering wood interspersed with herbs and flowers significant in werewolf lore—vervain for protection, wolfhock for strength in the afterlife, and rosemary for remembrance.

Li Li’s body lay atop the structure.

Henry stood off to one side, holding a lit torch, his expression somber as he met Jerome’s gaze. He gave a slight nod, an acknowledgment of the burden they now shared.

The pack members gathered around silently, forming a circle around the pyre. Pups clutched at their parents’ hands, and mates leaned on each other for support.

Jerome stepped forward to address his pack. His voice was clear and carried weight as he spoke. “Tonight, we gather not just to mourn, but to honor our alpha and our friend. In life, she was our leader. In death, may she become our guide.”

There were murmurs of agreement.

His eyes scanned the crowd, seeking those particularly affected by the loss. “Alpha Li Li led with strength but also with kindness. We will miss her, but life moves on. We must move on, but she will always have a place in our hearts.”

A murmur of agreement passed through the crowd like wind through leaves.

“We may face uncertainty—but we are werewolves! Bound by blood and spirit alike. We will stand together as a pack and embrace change as Li Li would have wanted, but tonight we honor our alpha one last time.”

He turned, and taking the burning torch from Henry, lit the bottom edge of the pyre.

Chapter Three

Jerome

THE FIRE caught quickly, flames licking toward the sky. A collective howl rose from the pack—an outpouring of sorrow and communal resolve that seemed to shake the very earth beneath them.

The fire burned brighter and higher, casting flickering shadows across all their faces. Worry mingled with grief. Tonight they were vulnerable in their mourning, but tomorrow they would rise again, stronger and more united than ever.

The ceremony continued into the night, songs sung in old tongues echoing through the trees, telling tales of valor and hardship—reminders that even in darkness there could be light.

And as Jerome watched over his pack—their faces illuminated by firelight—he understood truly what it meant for an alpha to lead, not just through strength but also through love.

The night waned, and as the last embers flickered in the dying fire, the pack slowly dispersed, leaving Jerome standing alone by the remains of the pyre.

The crisp air whispered through the trees, carrying away the ash and smoke, blending it into the dark sky. Jerome’s heart was heavy yet hopeful, a paradox for sure.

A twig snapped in the distance, but he ignored it. Probably a beta just checking on him. But he couldn’t smell them, thanks to the fire and the stench of a burning body.

He couldn’t smell anything but death.

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