The Triplet Alphas' Secret Mate

Chapter 117: Her funeral

Leo’s POV

​The morning air was cold, biting at my skin as if the world itself were trying to wake me up from this nightmare. But there was no waking up.

​I stood at the edge of the pack’s ceremonial grounds, staring at the sea of black. Hundreds of people had gathered, their heads bowed, some even wiping away fake tears. I felt a surge of pure disgust. I looked at the crowd—the same people who had whispered behind Scarlett’s back, the same people who had treated her like an outsider for two years because we had led the way. Now, they stood here pretending to be in pain.

​They had no right to be here. They had no right to look like they cared when they had helped make her life a living hell.

​I looked at Liam and Leon standing beside me. We had refused to wear the black mourning clothes our father had laid out for us. We stood in our usual dark tactical gear, our faces like stone. We weren’t mourning because, in our hearts, we were still fighting the truth.

​The priest began the incantations, his voice droning on about spirits and the afterworld. On a pedestal sat the items they had recovered from the woods—the silver necklace Scarlett always wore around her neck and that horrific, blood-soaked bag of scattered flesh. They placed them into a fancy, polished coffin. But it was light. Too light. Like she was never inside it at all.

​As they lowered the box into the dark earth, my breath hitched. I stared at the pictures placed at each corner of the field. They were beautiful photos of her—taken during the few moments she was really happy. In every one, she was smiling that big, radiant smile. It was a picture of my Scarlett when she was actually Scarlett, before we broke her.

​Then, suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stand the sight of the dirt hitting the casket. I turned on my heel and walked away, ignoring the gasps and whispers of the pack members. I didn’t care about protocol anymore. I didn’t care about being an Alpha.

​I reached my room and slammed the door, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. My hands were shaking as I grabbed a half-empty bottle of whiskey from my nightstand. I didn’t bother with a glass. The liquid was harsh and burned my throat, but I welcomed the pain. It was the only thing that felt real.

​Tears finally spilled over, hot and fast. I shook my head, gripping the bottle.

I whispered to the empty room. "I refuse to

proof was there. The silence in my chest where our bond used to hum was deafening. The scattered flesh, the

to know who it was. Liam and Leon walked in, their footsteps heavy. They didn’t say anything at first;

a spy to follow Ethan," Liam said suddenly, his voice

Despite the proof of Scarlett’s death, we were desperate for a lie. We wanted to believe Ethan had taken her, that he had staged the whole thing just to take her away from us.

​"And?" I asked.

sighed, staring at the floor. "They found nothing. Ethan is back at the Obsidian pack. He’s been seen at his packhouse. There’s no sign

to find any enemy, yet we were searching for a ghost. We wanted anything to make us believe she wasn’t dead, even though we had just watched her

his voice sounding smaller than I had

was next. I couldn’t even imagine a tomorrow. Almost my entire life had been lived with Scarlett in it—whether I was

the world was just a dark, quiet room, and I was a broken man

I whispered, taking the bottle back. "I don’t know

in, their faces tight and formal, their suits still sharp and untouched by the dirt of the grave. They looked at us—three

his voice ringing with a cold authority that made my skin crawl. "After that, the black comes off. You will resume your duties as Alphas. The pack needs to see

then, a thought—wild,

were

Like she meant nothing.