Remia rested her snout against Laria’s cooling side and howled. Howled in rage. Howled in misery. Howled in loss.
Her firstborn daughter was dead. Murdered by Coral Basilisks in Woodland Path.
Just like her firstborn son had been, what felt like an eternity ago.
Thrax’s heart broke. The mighty Imperial wanted to join his mate in screaming out his sorrow. Sadly, he had grandchildren to care for. Psitta and Shior, the poor girls, were still in shock over what they had come back to.
Pati, Safe’s snow-white granddaughter, and Dreamer, the shining-winged Skydancer from Shadow flight, had returned from Woodland Path with Laria’s body in tow. They told of the desperate battle to survive, to gather the necessary resources to keep their clan alive. How Laria, weak and inexperienced, had been unable to escape the swiping claws of the basilisks and had fallen within moments of the second battle. How no amount of Dreamer’s magic had been able to save her.
Now the young Wildclaw lay dead on the floor of their lair, as so many others had before her.
Safe watched from a distance as her clan moved to the graveyard to bury Laria. Her ears rang with Remia’s cries. Her heart ached for the orphans and their family. It also ached for her grandson Malar, Laria’s mate, now left alone with their daughters.
Zone nosed the Mirror’s side gently. “You okay?”
“I had a bad feeling today,” Safe admitted. “I knew that someone would die, though I don’t know how.”
Her heart clenched. Could she have prevented it?
She likely couldn’t have.
But she would feel the sting of regret and guilt, even a day later.