My Luna Ceremony unfolded the following weekend, sending Sharon into even more frenzy as she finalized last-minute details. Each day, her buns became a tad messier as she juggled flower arrangements, guest lists, food, and even sought out entertainment against my wishes-though the twins insisted she disregard my protests.
Cobalt and powder blue streamers adorned the town’s light posts, while brightly decorated wreaths hung on storefronts. Laughter filled the air, a stark contrast to the lingering aftermath of devastation.
As I walked under the pavilion erected in the park, the crowd’s cheers flushed my face with warmth. Riding high on the waves of joy and celebration, I greeted guests, buoyed by their positive energy.
Yet, as the ceremony commenced, a knot of worry twisted in my stomach, accompanied by self-doubt that only dissipated when I caught sight of the twins. Ethan had trimmed his hair for the occasion, though it was still slightly longer on top than on the sides. Kieran’s unruly hair contrasted, lending him a darker, more dangerous allure as he awaited me.
“You have nothing to fear, sweetheart,” Kieran’s gruff voice softened, meant for my ears alone. “You’ve been Luna of all three packs for a long time. This ceremony is just a formality.”
“And a future headache,” Ethan chimed in playfully, slicing through the last shreds of my reluctance and rekindling my excitement.
The ceremony itself was brief, simpler than a human marriage yet laden with its own complexities. After pledging my life and loyalty to all three packs, and sealing it with a cut to my palm, the voices of thousands flooded my mind.
“I’ve been warned about this part,” I murmured aloud, struggling to focus amidst the cacophony. Ethan’s voice broke through the chaos. “You can tune them out. It’s all within your control. You’re their Luna.”
Drowning in a torrent of sound and emotion, I swam toward Ethan’s voice. Gradually, the chaos ebbed, replaced by a profound silence that hung in the air before the crowd erupted into cheers. At the forefront, Leo Caddel’s exuberant grin and cheers punctuated the celebratory atmosphere.
That night would remain etched in my memory-not just because I danced for hours with Ethan, but also because Leo’s attempts at charm with the she-wolves left me laughing until I nearly toppled over. Even Kieran, albeit reluctantly, swept me onto the dance floor during a slow song, his scowl softening into a faint blush on his cheeks.
As the music eventually ceased and Ethan pulled me into his arms, I realized I hadn’t seen Kat or Zack for hours.
“I know you’re worried about Kat,” Ethan murmured, his voice low in my ear, “but from what I gathered, seeking her out now might disrupt her.”
“Really?” I hummed, anticipation stirring as his arms tightened around me. “What do you have in mind?”
“We’ve planned a little celebration of our own,” Kieran interjected, his chuckle brushing the nape of my neck as his arms enveloped me from behind. “Or should I say, a worship session for our Luna Sophia.”
Beneath the starry sky, I followed the twins away from the festivities, cheeks sore from smiling and a fire smoldering in my belly. At the time, I hadn’t fully grasped their intentions. I was whisked into their strong arms upon entering the house, pinned to the bed by their rough hands and heated skin. They snarled and growled playfully, each vying for the sweetest attentions between my legs. They held me down with firm hands as I thrashed and moaned, culminating in an explosive climax on Kieran’s tongue, while Ethan whispered words of encouragement.
They took their time with me, passing me back and forth as my own energy waned. I relished their roughness and the primal desire to mark me in every possible way.
By the time exhaustion claimed me, I felt Ethan gently wiping away their remnants with a cold washcloth.
“We have one more surprise for you, doll,” Ethan’s voice was husky, tinged with the weariness of the night’s endeavors.
Startled awake, I realized Ethan was cleaning me up with a washcloth, an unexpected gesture after our passionate night. It took some effort to dress and compose myself, my muscles protesting and my core still pulsing with the memory. Even Kieran, typically gruff, was more gentle in the morning light as he helped me into a t-shirt and offered a hand while I slipped on my pants.
“My surprise is out of town?” I queried curiously, glancing through the forest as we traversed one of the town’s many back roads.
Deeper into the woods we ventured, navigating small roads branching off the main path leading to secluded houses and cabins. Just as I was about to inquire further, Kieran slowed the sedan and turned onto a gravel road. The vehicle jostled on the rough terrain, but within moments we arrived at a quaint house.
Painted in a sunny shade of yellow with a wrap-around porch adorned with lush greenery and vibrant flowers, the house exuded charm and tranquility.
“No way,” I gasped, practically leaping from the sedan as Marcella stepped onto the porch.
Her glossy grey hair cascaded down her shoulder and back in a braided flourish, her eyes crinkling with a smile that radiated life and light. The plants near her swayed gently in the breeze, seemingly reaching towards the woman who exuded so much warmth.
“Looks like you took my advice, dear,” Marcella’s voice carried a hint of her age, yet her eyes sparkled with youthful vigor, like shards of sunlight.
Her smile broadened as Ethan and Kieran stepped out of the vehicle. “And then some.”
“How is this possible?” I laughed, genuinely surprised when Marcella enveloped me in a hug. She smelled of earth and petals, honey and herbs clinging to the thick strands of her hair. “I thought you and your son were hidden away in the forest.”
“Oh, we were, and damn happy there too,” Marcella chuckled. “Your twins sent a few men to my door when things started going south. Almost sent them packing until they mentioned a Luna Sophia. My instincts never failed me once, and they were telling me to pack up and leave. I miss my garden, but your mates here provided me with a suitable replacement, even if the land’s fallen into disrepair.”
“You seem to be enjoying fixing things up around here,” Ethan smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest and teasingly poking at one of the nearby leaves. “Actually, it looks like there are a lot more plants here today than just a few days ago.”
“Of course, there are. I control the plants, after all,” Marcella snapped playfully, a grin tugging at her lips. Her gaze flickered towards me. “Come inside, dear. I sent my son to the store a few hours ago, told him not to come back until he’s mated.”
Marcella and I talked for hours, the twins growing restless as our conversation continued. I couldn’t contain my happiness when Marcella shared her plans to stay here, making this house and pack her new home. It would take her time to adjust to no longer hiding and using her magic in fear.
As the sun began to set, Marcella’s son returned home. He gruffly muttered a greeting and headed into the kitchen. I didn’t dare ask if he’d found his mate, but I hoped the nervous excitement fluttering in his chest was a good sign.
Nearly a week later, after the initial excitement had settled, I received a phone call I hadn’t realized I’d been waiting for.
“One Missed Voicemail: Lauren.”
I replayed that voicemail more times than I cared to admit, straining to discern the emotions in her words without facing her in person. Her voice, huskier from years of smoking, hinted at stress-a habit she only indulged when under strain.
Darren had left her for the cashier at the liquor store, a college dropout named Lizzy. He tried to flee and hide after getting the girl pregnant, but Lauren promptly kicked him out. I could hear the click of her lighter in the background, followed by a muttered curse when she struggled to light her cigarette.
She wanted to meet with me, to discuss our past and what kind of future we might salvage together.
The twins didn’t dissuade me from meeting her, despite the pain she had once caused. For reasons I couldn’t fully fathom, I agreed.
Standing on the worn boards of the front porch stirred a familiar unease in my gut, a hint of fear flickering in my mind-a memory of the girl who once ran from her problems, leaving shattered pieces for others to mend.
Her wheat-colored hair was curled as she opened the door, pale blue eyeshadow dusted across her lids. Nude lipstick and gloss highlighted her lips, and a blush emphasized her high cheekbones against fair skin. She wore her best clothes-a skirt, heels, and silk blouse.
The first pang in my gut was the flash of disappointment when she realized I had arrived alone. Ethan and Kieran waited in the car; this wasn’t an audience I wanted.
Maybe I was punishing myself, but I followed her into the house I had lived in but never truly called home. The faint scent of air freshener clung to cracked leather couches and a chipped coffee table. Antiseptic wipes sat on the counter, dishes stacked neatly-a cleanliness that surpassed the state of the house during the months I lived there.
“Sophia, sweetheart. How have you been?” Her use of the nickname Kieran often called me felt wrong coming from her, twisted and warped. Her voice was soft, but it was the emotions beneath that intrigued me. There was no hint of emotion toward Darren’s betrayal. I had expected anger, at the very least.
Understanding dawned like bloodstained petals when she continued, “I heard about your ceremony-it’s like a promotion, right? Or a coronation?”
Once, I might have mistaken the light in her eyes for fondness, perhaps convinced myself that some small, maternal part of her was proud of me. That, for once, her own desires were set aside for the child she never truly wanted.
My abilities were both a liberation and a cage.
I felt the desperate, clawing need rattling in her ribcage like a starved beast-the bitter regret, coated like ash on her tongue, and the greedy desire to claim it all. The realization that life was fleeting, and what had she done with hers but ruin it?
Like a snake, I sensed her slithering closer with each silent step. Even to those closest, a snake never changes its nature, nor does it apologize.
Somewhere deep within, a child cried out for a mother’s warmth. My heart broke for this woman countless times, the pain suppressed until it seeped into our blood, hardening our hearts.
As any wise predator would, she saw the change in my eyes-the hardness that took over as I stared right through her. I wondered if she felt my probing, peeling back layers of her deepest emotions with the honed scalpel of my abilities-slicing through bitter memories, fits of jealousy, rage, and the frustrations piled onto the shoulders of a child.
“You can’t hurt me anymore,” I said softly, finally releasing myself from her grip. “Have a good life, Mom.”
Her broken sobs filled the house, echoing in my ears as I turned my back on her. Descending the porch steps, I returned to the men who claimed every inch of my soul, who consumed my pain and replaced it with unconditional love.
A ghost of a smile touched my lips, for once knowing her regret was genuine.