The wind swirled across the battlefield carrying the fresh smell of flowers and grass.
I crawled to my feet, my shoulders slumped as tears rushed down my cheeks.
"What does that even mean! I say we go find a way to bring her back! If I don't get my mate back, I'll bathe this world in blood until the goddess brings her back!" Beowulf growled in my head, pushing to the very last edge of my mind.
I wiped away my tears. Beowulf was right, I would not accept this outcome… I must find the meaning behind her words.
My pack members, who were resurrected again, began to cry out in gratitude. They faced the direction of the sacred tree, bowing to it.
Laughter with tears of joy echoed through the air, caressing my ears, however, it was like a bitter song to my soul. The one they all thanked for being alive was taken away from me.
Does that mean we had to shoulder the pain of the world? What about my family? What about our happiness? Did our lives mean nothing to the universe?
