It Has Barely Begun

Flies lingered around the borders directly facing the northern part of the Crescent Pack.

The smell of rotting corpses wafted miles from the source of such a scent. At the peak of the pile of rotting limbs and dismembered body parts, two heads were pierced by poles. One would be blind to skip such a sight. Its position was a special spot for the former alpha and luna of the Crescent Pack.

It was the very same way how Mason Ritchell and Lorraine Ritchell died in Diana’s first life. Atop the loyal wolves of Diana’s parents were her beloved mother and father’s heads, speared for all to see for their supposed treachery. When their rotten corpses could not be distinguished anymore after being eaten by the scavengers, they were buried collectively in a nameless mound where Diana could only weep.

Now, as Diana stared at the small hill of corpses, her eyes fixated on the two heads at the top. Her fists were clenched as she relived that day. That day was particularly gloomy. The skies were fil