Leo's POV
The morning air was thick with the scent of lilies and deep sorrow. Thousands of pack members stood in the courtyard, a sea of white clothes that blurred together under the bright sun.
I looked at my fathers. They looked serious, but I felt something strange emanating from them. It made the hair on my neck stand up.
I looked at the crowd and felt a wave of guilt. I was a liar. I wasn't here to mourn; my mind was thousands of miles away, locked in a hotel room in Nigeria with a woman who was supposed to be a ghost. I was just counting the seconds, waiting for this memorial to end so I could run back to Scarlett. I didn't care about speeches or ceremonies; I just wanted to feel her heart beating against mine again.
"Let the ceremony begin," my father, Lennox, said, his voice booming through the speakers.
