He Chose Her Heat Over Our Son’s Cold Grave

Elara's POV

"Lower it faster," I told the two men standing in the pouring rain.

Three days after the hospital alarms faded, I stood at the edge of the public cemetery. The gravediggers grunted, their boots slipping in the sludge as they eased the undersized pine coffin into the narrow trench. The cheap ropes groaned under the weight, fraying against the rough wood.

I held a rusted shovel. Rain soaked my black coat, chilling the fresh bandages wrapped tightly around my neck. The wound throbbed with every heartbeat, a constant, sharp reminder of the severed bond.

"That's far enough," the older gravedigger muttered, pulling his rope free. "We ain't getting paid enough to drown out here."

"Just leave," I told him.

The men didn't argue. They grabbed their gear and hurried toward the cemetery gates, leaving me alone with the open grave.

I scooped up a mound of wet earth and hurled it downward. The mud slammed against the cheap wood with a hollow thud.

Tires screeched on the wet asphalt. A black SUV slammed on its brakes just outside the wrought-iron gates.

Kael marched through the puddles. He held a black umbrella over Selene, who clung tightly to his left arm. Her sheer silk blouse offered zero protection against the storm, sticking to her skin in translucent patches.

He reached the gravesite and kicked the spare shovel resting near my boots. The metal clattered violently against a neighboring stone marker.

"Stop digging," Kael ordered.

Mud splattered across my leather boots. I tightened my grip on the wooden handle. The rough grain dug into my skin. A splinter pierced my palm, sharp and grounding.

I didn't look up. I drove the metal spade into the pile of dirt, lifted another heavy scoop, and dumped it into the hole.

"I said stop," Kael yelled, his voice cutting through the downpour.

"He belongs in the ground, Kael," I answered. "Unless you want to keep him on ice forever."

Selene wrinkled her nose, stepping carefully to avoid the mud. "You buried the Alpha in a public plot? In a pauper's box?"

"He died without a pack bond," I reminded her. I kept my eyes on the wet dirt filling the grave. "The elders refused him the sacred grounds. This is what he gets."

"Because of you!" Kael snapped. He dropped the umbrella, letting the rain wash over him.

Selene shrieked and covered her head with her designer purse. "Kael, my hair!"

"Because of the rot in his veins," I corrected. I swung the shovel again.

"You abandoned him on that bed," Kael argued. "You cut the tie. You left him to choke."

"I left a corpse," I stated. "He was dead the moment the poison hit his heart."

"You could have healed him!"

"And died with him?" I asked, finally turning my head to meet his furious stare. "I told you to fix it, Kael. You failed."

Kael stepped closer to the edge of the grave. The water plastered his dark hair to his forehead.

"The pack council wants you in chains," Kael threatened. "Julian is rallying the enforcers right now. They are searching the hospital, the packhouse, everywhere."

"Let them come." I wiped a streak of rainwater from my cheek. "I am right here."

"You don't care at all," Selene murmured from behind Kael, shivering violently. "You really are a monster. He was your mate."

"Go back to the car, Selene," I instructed. "Your shoes are ruining the grass."

"Don't speak to her like that," Kael warned.

"I'll speak to my husband's mistress however I please," I replied. "Or are we pretending you two weren't fucking in the VIP suite while he flatlined?"