The Princess's Revenge Chapter 71

Logan's POV

I left Valencia in the great hall. My chest felt tight, like I couldn't breathe properly. The weight of thirty-nine deaths pressed down on me, crushing me from the inside.

I needed air. I needed space. I couldn't let Valencia see me like this - breaking apart at the seams. Tomorrow she'd face the pack as my Luna. She needed to see strength, not this pathetic mess I was becoming.

The funeral platform loomed in the darkness, servants still working on it. My feet carried me across the courtyard without thinking.

As I approached the training area, I heard it - the rhythmic sound of sword striking wood. Someone was training, even at this hour.

I moved closer, and my heart sank when I saw Elias.

He was attacking the practice dummy with brutal efficiency, each strike harder than the last. His golden hair was dark with sweat, his movements sharp and angry.

I stood there watching him, preparing myself for what was coming. I had led his brother to death. He had every right to hate me. Part of me wanted him to. Maybe his accusations would hurt less than this guilt eating me alive.

"Elias," I called out.

He froze mid-swing, his sword embedded in the wooden dummy. Slowly, he turned to face me. His green eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale in the moonlight.

We stared at each other for a long moment. I waited for the accusations.

But they didn't come.

"How are you feeling?" I asked finally, breaking the silence.

Elias pulled his sword free from the dummy. "Like shit," he said simply.

I wanted to apologize. The words were right there, clawing at my throat. But I couldn't say them. They felt too small, too meaningless against what had happened.

"He talked about you a lot," Elias said suddenly, not looking at me. "Clarence. He worshipped you."

My chest tightened further.

"Remember when you found us?" Elias continued, his voice rough. "Thirteen years ago. We were stealing bread from that merchant's cart."

I remembered. Two scrawny three-year-old boys, all sharp elbows and desperate hunger.

"You could have punished us," Elias said. "Most Alphas would have. But you didn't. You brought us here instead."

"You were just kids," I said quietly.

"We were thieves," Elias corrected. "Orphans. Nobody wanted us. But you gave us a home. You trained us yourself sometimes, when you had time."

He struck the dummy again, wood chips flying.

"Clarence loved those sessions," he continued. "He'd practice for hours afterward, trying to perfect whatever move you'd shown us. He wanted to be like you so badly."

The image of Clarence's eager face flashed in my mind. Always smiling, always trying so hard.

"Last week, he told me he was going to become your best warrior," Elias said, his voice cracking. "He said he'd make you proud. That he'd protect the pack just like you do."

Elias's sword dropped to his side. His shoulders started shaking.

"He was so excited when you picked him for the patrol," he whispered. "His first real mission with the Alpha. He couldn't stop talking about it."

Then Elias broke. The tears came hard and fast, his whole body shaking with sobs. The sword fell from his hand, clattering on the stone.

"He was all I had left," Elias cried. "My little brother. I was supposed to protect him."

My heart felt like it was being torn apart. I moved without thinking, pulling Elias into my arms. He collapsed against me, crying like the sixteen-year-old boy he was, not the warrior he tried to be.

"I'm—" I started, but the words wouldn't come. Sorry felt useless.

"It's okay," I said instead, the words mechanical and empty. "Let it out."

Comforting people wasn't something I knew how to do. I held him awkwardly, patting his back like I'd seen others do. It felt wrong, insufficient.

"I miss him," Elias sobbed. "I miss him so much already."

"I know," I said. What else could I say? That it gets easier? That the pain fades? Those would be lies.

"He looked up to you so much," Elias said, pulling back slightly. "He would have trusted you until the very end. No matter what happened."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I'd failed him. Failed them both.

"I couldn't—" I started.

"I know," Elias said, wiping his eyes. "I know it was an ambush. Nobody could have predicted it."

We stood there in silence, both of us broken in different ways.

The castle bell rang out across the night. One long toll. Then another. Then a third.

The assembly signal. The funeral was beginning.

Elias straightened, wiping his face with his sleeve. "We should go."

I nodded. "Walk with me."

We headed back toward the courtyard together, neither of us speaking. The silence wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. Just two people carrying grief too heavy for words.

As we walked, I thought about Clarence's smile. His enthusiasm. His determination to make me proud.

He had made me proud. I just never told him.

The courtyard came into view, already filling with pack members. The funeral platform stood ready, wrapped bodies arranged on its tiers. The silver smoke from the braziers drifted across the crowd.

A woman near the front was sobbing, clutching a small boy to her chest. The child couldn't be more than five. He kept asking where his father was. She couldn't answer through her tears.

Another mother stood with three children, all under ten. Her face was blank, like she hadn't processed what happened yet. The oldest child, a girl, was trying to hold her younger siblings' hands while tears streamed down her face.

My stomach turned. I looked away, but everywhere I turned there were more grieving faces. More tears. More pain I'd caused.

I needed Valencia.

Where was she? My eyes searched the crowd frantically. Without her, I felt like I was drowning. She was the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart.

A hand touched my shoulder from behind. I spun around.

"Logan."

Relief flooded through me so hard my knees almost buckled. She was here. I could breathe again.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her purple eyes studying my face with concern.

"I'm fine."

She didn't believe me. I could see it in her eyes. But she didn't push. Instead, she moved to stand beside me, close enough that our arms touched. That small contact helped more than she knew.

Dr. Vance stepped up to the stone altar. The crowd fell silent except for the crying. He raised his hands, his voice carrying across the courtyard.

"Brothers and sisters of Cliffwatch Pack," he began. "We gather tonight under the Moon Goddess's light to honor our fallen."

The crying got louder.

"These brave souls gave their lives defending our home," Dr. Vance continued. "They died as warriors. As heroes. The Moon Goddess will welcome them into her eternal hunting grounds."

My chest felt like it was being crushed. They died because I was too arrogant to see a trap. Because I thought I was invincible.

"Let us pray," Dr. Vance said.

Everyone bowed their heads. So am I.

I closed my eyes. I could feel the warmth of Valencia's hand more than ever before.

"Great Moon Goddess," Dr. Vance intoned, "we send you our beloved dead. Guide their spirits to your realm. Grant them peace in your eternal light. Let their sacrifice not be forgotten. Let their memories live on in our hearts."

The prayer continued, but I stopped listening. My turn was coming. I'd have to stand up there and face all these people. Look into the eyes of widows and orphans I'd created.

My hands started shaking. I couldn't do this. I couldn't stand up there and pretend to be strong when I was falling apart inside.

Valencia intertwined our fingers, squeezing gently. The trembling faded. Her touch grounded me, pulled me back from the edge of panic.

"Alpha Logan will now speak," Dr. Vance announced.

Every eye turned to me. I forced myself to walk to the altar. Each step felt like walking through mud. I stood at the altar, looking out at the crowd. So many faces. So much pain.

"Tonight we—" My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Tonight we honor those who fell defending Cliffwatch Pack."

The crying was getting louder. That woman with the boy had collapsed to her knees, wailing. The sound cut through me like a blade. They seemed to be expressing their dissatisfaction to me. This would have been unforgivable to me before, but now I couldn’t feel angry.

"They were brave," I continued, but the words felt hollow. "They fought with honor... "

My mind went blank. All I could hear was crying. Sobbing. Wailing. The sounds grew louder and louder, filling my head until I couldn't think. I saw their faces clearly now. Every tear. Every trembling lip. Every accusation in their eyes.

You did this. You killed them. You failed us.

The noise became overwhelming. A roar of grief and pain that threatened to drown me. My vision started to blur. I couldn't breathe. I was drowning in their sorrow, suffocating under the weight of what I'd done.

"Alpha?"

Dr. Vance's voice cut through the noise. He was standing beside me, his face creased with concern. "Alpha, are you alright?"

I blinked, coming back to reality. The crowd was staring at me. Confused. Worried. Some still crying, but quieter now, watching me with a mixture of grief and bewilderment.

I'd been standing there, lost in my own head, for who knows how long.

I forced myself to focus. Pushed down the panic, the guilt, everything. I had to finish this.

"These warriors and servants gave everything for our pack," I said, my voice steadier now but empty of emotion. "Their sacrifice will not be forgotten. Their names will be carved into the memorial stone. Their families will be provided for. This I swear as your Alpha."

"We commend their spirits to the Moon Goddess," I finished. "May they find peace in her realm."

I picked up the curved blade from the granite altar. The metal was cold against my palm. Without hesitation, I drew it across my left hand. Blood welled up immediately.

I held my hand over the silver chalice, letting the blood drip into the wine. When enough blood had mixed with the wine, I picked up the chalice.

The liquid inside was dark now, almost black. I walked to the funeral platform and poured it out in a slow stream. The blood-wine soaked into the white linen, spreading like a stain.

"With this offering, we release you," I said. "Go to the Moon Goddess. Be at peace."

Dr. Vance handed me a torch. The flame danced in the wind, casting wild shadows. My hand shook as I took it. The weight of it felt enormous.

The crying started again. Louder now. They knew what came next.

My hand trembled violently. The torch wavered, nearly going out. I touched the torch to the base of the pyramid. The pine branches caught immediately, flames racing up through the tiers. The sacred herbs released their smoke, silver and white, spiraling into the night sky.

The fire spread quickly. Too quickly. Within moments, the entire platform was ablaze. The heat hit my face like a slap, but I didn't step back. I stood there, watching, as the flames consumed everything.

The crying became wailing. My chest felt like it was caving in. Each sob from the crowd was a knife in my heart.

The smoke stung my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered, but the words were lost in the roar of the flames and the sound of grief.