In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. May he rest in peace." The priest's voice cuts through the cold air like a razor. But peace? That's not what's buried here.
I stand off to the side, the shadow of the ceremony, hands buried deep in the pockets of my coat. My fingers twitch, wanting something to grip, to break. My eyes stay locked on Phoenix — tall, composed, deadly — shaking hands and nodding solemnly as if grief doesn't exist beneath his skin. He's playing the part. He always does.
But I know better. There's a storm behind his eyes. Phoenix doesn't cry. He plots.
The rest of us? We just try not to bleed.
A thick black cloud hangs over this place — the sky, the people, us. It's heavy. Drenched in silence and secrets. With Phoenix, it clings tighter, like the shadows know he's the one who will burn the world to get answers.
I move toward the gravesite, stepping past mourners who don't dare look me in the eye. I don't look back either. They knew Robin — or thought they did. Now they're whispering like vultures picking at bone.
Shoulders squared, head high. No weakness. No softness. That's the rule. Always has been.
I join my siblings, falling into formation like we're soldiers instead of siblings. I take my place beside Phoenix, on his right. Crow's already there, jaw tight. Dove stands beside him, silent. Sparrow's behind us, arms crossed, radiating fury like a ticking bomb.
"I'm really sorry about your brother," a fat man wheezes, grabbing Phoenix's hand with too much familiarity. "He was a good kid. I can't believe what happened—"
"I understand, friend," Crow cuts in, voice low and polite. That fake, sugary kind of polite that means someone's about to get hurt.
Crow smiles, but it's cold. A warning in human form.
"Our baby brother was murdered a week ago," he says calmly. "And you know what shocks me the most?"
The man shifts uncomfortably. Crow leans in, close enough that I see the twitch in the man's jaw.
"All of you knew him," Crow continues, voice dipped in poison. "But somehow... not a single one of you knows how he died."
The man's eyes go wide, hands shaking. Good. He should be scared. Even I get nervous when Crow gets like this.
"I—I don't know—"
"Shhh." Crow lifts a finger to the man's lips. "It's okay. I believe you."
He stares the man down until he has no choice but to look away. It's a power game, and Crow always wins.
"Again... my condolences," the man stammers, nearly tripping over his own feet as he retreats.
"Can we fucking leave now?" Sparrow hisses. Her jaw is clenched so tight I swear I hear her teeth grind.
"Already?" Phoenix doesn't even look at her. His tone is flat. Hollow.
"I've had enough of this circus."
"Me too," Dove whispers. She hasn't said much since Robin died. She barely speaks at all anymore.
Phoenix turns his head slightly. "Raven?"
My eyes meet his. A silent language passes between us — grief, rage, guilt — all wrapped in silence.
I nod once.
"Let's go."
He turns, and we move as one.
A pack without its youngest.
Crow and I step slightly ahead, flanking Phoenix like trained bodyguards. The rest fall in behind. We were raised to move this way. Taught to protect him. Taught to keep the wolves out — even though we're the most dangerous ones in the forest.
The guests part like the Red Sea, sensing danger without knowing why. Some pretend to whisper prayers. Some just stare.
They should. They should look.
We're what happens when you push blood too far.
The SUV waits at the edge of the cemetery. Sleek. Black. Silent.
Crow gets behind the wheel. I take the passenger seat. No one says a word as Sparrow opens the door for Phoenix. He slides in, expression unreadable. Dove follows. Sparrow slams the door behind them like she's sealing a coffin.
Crow starts the engine. Gravel kicks up as we pull away, wheels spinning like we're running from the grave.
No one speaks.
Just the road. Just the silence. Just the weight of loss crawling into every crack of my soul.
Robin.
His name screams through my head louder than I can bear. The image of his body — twisted, broken — flashes behind my eyes. Phoenix and I made sure the others didn't see him. They didn't need to. That face wasn't our brother anymore. It was a warning.
Something evil did that to him.
"We need to leave," Phoenix says, voice like frost. "We're going to the island. Everyone's been told. Pack light."
"How long?" I ask.
"Two weeks," he says. "We go to heal. And when we're ready... we plan."
He doesn't say revenge. He doesn't have to.
My gaze flicks to the mirror. Phoenix stares forward, his face carved from stone. Cold. Controlled. He was the first of us to master that.
I was the second.
The training we endured? "Hard" doesn't cover it. Try inhuman. Try unforgivable.
Robin didn't have that in him. He broke easier. Loved harder. Felt too much. That's why we protected him. That's why he was allowed to leave.
Because of me.
Because I begged.
Because I thought he'd be safe on the outside.
But he wasn't made for the world. And it killed him.
And the fact that he was gay? That only added to the hatred he faced from Father. From the compound. They never forgave him for being soft.
And now he's gone.
Because of me.
"Good," Crow says, voice dark. "Because when I find out who did this..."
He doesn't finish.
He doesn't have to.
We all know what comes next.
And it won't be peace.