MORANA
"The time has come," the priest proclaims. "On this sacred night, each unmarked soul shall heed the call of the bond. The Moon shall guide your steps.''
Silver bowls of sacred water are passed along the lines of future heirs and unmated wolves like me, each one of us touching our fingers to the liquid and whispering a silent prayer to the Moon Goddess.
I steal one more glance across the hall, but Zacreus hasn't taken his eyes off me. My heart stumbles under the weight of it.
When I finally look away, I catch a glimpse of my father.
He stands off to the side, speaking to someone cloaked in black. With the man's hood drawn too low, I can't see his face. But the way the two of them speak, leaning in like conspirators, sends an unwelcome chill crawling up my spine.
The ceremony draws to a close.
The priest raises the ancient staff carved from moonstone and ashwood, his voice echoing through the chamber. "The Rite is concluded. From this moment, the pull of the bond will awaken in the chosen. When it stirs, trust in your instincts and follow it. And remember, the Moon Goddess does not err."
The crowd stirs with anticipation. Some couples glance at each other, waiting. Some look lost. Some hopeful.
I raise my hand. The moment the last word leaves the priest's lips, something deep inside me responds.
It starts as a warmth low in my chest, spreading through my veins like light. A silent knowing. My feet move of their own accord, drawn in one undeniable direction.
Toward him.
Zacreus.
He takes a step at the same time I do. It's as if the world has bent just slightly to align us again.
But suddenly, a second pull slams into me from the other side of the hall.
The pull isn't gentle, it's visceral. Just as consuming as the one that is drawing me to Zacreus, but… colder. Wilder. It almost feels as if another thread has latched onto my soul and begun to reel me in.
As if… As if the bond is torn in two directions. No… This isn't possible.
Bonds are sacred and I know I am destined for only one. Then why does it feel like I'm being split apart from the inside?
My breath catches as my gaze drifts to the far edge of the hall, beyond the ceremonial banners, beyond the dancing torches, into the shadows where the chandeliers don't reach.
And there it is again.
A shadow. Still watching me.
And the wheels… All the breath is knocked out of my chest as I realize I had not imagined it earlier. The wheelchair had been right there.
Half-obscured by the columns, the figure in it unmoving but unmistakably present. A darker energy coils from that corner, silent and suffocating.
I tear my gaze away. I can't let this confuse me. This… This has to be some mistake.
My eyes find Zacreus again.
He's still there, with his gaze locked onto me. He feels our bond just as much as I feel it.
The bond that's been between us for as long as I can remember, it's real. It has to be.
So why can't I ignore the second pull clawing at my chest like a second heartbeat?
I force my legs forward, one step at a time, suppressing the confusion swirling in my chest.
Once I reach Zacreus, everything else will fall into place. The bond will solidify. And this… this mistake of a second pull will disappear.
But just as I'm about to cross the distance between us, my hand jolts.
The moonstone ring on my finger suddenly flares with light, brighter than I've ever seen it. A piercing silver-blue light erupts from the stone, spiraling up my hand like liquid moonlight.
Someone yells. Someone else stumbles back.
Gasps echo across the hall.
The glowing intensifies, almost blinding now. My breath catches in my throat. Every pair of eyes turns to me, and I stand frozen at the center of it all, unable to move.
'Crack'
Without warning, the ring cracks. The sound is sharp, like ice breaking under pressure and then it shatters completely. Splinters of white stone scatter across the floor, catching the light before skittering into silence.
I stare at my now-bare hand, the place where the ring once was still faintly warm.
A beat later, Zacreus moves toward me.
He doesn't speak but his strides are long and purposeful, as if nothing in the world will keep him from reaching me.
Except, something does.
A group of Elders rise from their seats and block his path before he can take another step towards me. "You must stop, Alpha!"
Zacreus comes to a halt, fury radiating off him like wildfire at the obstruction.
One of the Elders steps forward. His robes are heavy, stitched with the ancestral crest, and when he speaks, his voice carries through the Ancestral Hall like thunder.
"The ring that shattered on her hand was no ordinary trinket. It was a seal," he announces, showing the shattered pieces of my moonstone ring to the crowd before his gaze settles on Zacreus. "It is a rare kind of moonstone, enchanted to suppress a bloodline's truth until a designated age.''
What?
My heart stumbles when those words register in my mind.