Ethereal realm.
Oriana sat on a bridge over what seemed to be a cloud, her legs dangling over the edge. Below her, the werewolf community played out like a living tapestry, births and deaths, love and loss, joy and sorrow.
She could see everything: the pack gatherings, the celebrations, the quiet moments of intimacy between partners. She could see her son growing up, becoming the Alpha she had always known he would be. She could see the woman who had stolen her life living in her home, sleeping in her bed, loving her husband.
She tried to go back, to step off the bridge and return to the world she had been ripped from. But the guardians of the werewolf kingdom prevented her, their forms everchanging and ethereal. "You can't go back." Their voices echoed in unison, cold and unyielding. "You have been declared dead."
