Chapter 13 Prayers at the Moon Temple
Lily's POV
What does he mean by that? Darius... an werewolf with unawakened wolf... Is this acceptance or just giving up? I wondered, confusion swirling through my mind.
I nearly choked when Darius assumed my wolf hadn't awakened. The truth burned in my throat—that my wolf had been with me for three years, that she was currently writhing in agony from Blake's rejection.
But I kept my mouth shut. Better to be thought of as a late bloomer than as damaged goods.
The conversation had barely ended when Darius's phone rang, its harsh buzz cutting through the car's silence.
"Hello?" Darius answered, his voice shifting to a professional tone. "Yes, Mrs. Bennett. This is Darius."
I stiffened. My boss. Shit.
"Yes, the delivery was completed," Darius said smoothly, catching my eye. "No issues at all. The flowers were delivered safely." He paused. "Lily? She's right here. I'm giving her a ride home."
My heart raced as I imagined trying to explain what had happened at Dark Moon. But Darius just nodded along, not mentioning anything about soaked hair or Alpha Blake's cruelty.
"No problem at all. She looked like she could use a lift. Have a good evening." He hung up with a sigh. "She's worried about your first delivery."
"Mrs. Bennett always takes care of me, she's kind." I mumbled, grateful for her.
Darius tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "So, I'm guessing you don't know much about wolf hierarchies if you're unawakened."
I shrugged, playing along with his assumption.
"It's all about when you awaken," he explained. "Alphas are the earliest—sixteen, seventeen at the latest. Then the officer ranks—Betas, Gammas, Deltas—they're all before eighteen." He glanced at me. "Regular pack wolves usually awaken around eighteen. Then there's us Omegas."
"Us?" I questioned.
"Yeah. I never awakened either." His smile held no bitterness. "There are two types of Omegas—late bloomers who might still awaken, and those who never will. I've accepted I'm in the second group."
I studied him, this confident man who seemed perfectly at peace with his supposed deficiency. "Doesn't it bother you?"
"Used to. Not anymore." He shrugged. "Being a wolf isn't everything, Lily. Remember that."
If only he knew how much I wished that were true right now. My wolf whimpered inside me, a constant reminder of pain I couldn't escape.
When we reached my apartment building, I thanked him sincerely. "For everything. The ride and... you know."
"Anytime," he said. "Take care of yourself, Lily."
I climbed the three flights of stairs to our apartment, each step sending fresh stabs of pain through my wolf. By the time I reached our door, I was fighting back tears. I took three deep breaths before entering.
"Lily? Is that you, dear?" Old Martha called from the kitchen. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce filled our small apartment.
"Yeah, it's me," I managed, trying to sound normal.
Martha appeared in the hallway, wooden spoon in hand. Her weathered face creased with concern when she saw me. "Goodness, child! You're soaked!"
I forced a laugh. "Got caught in a surprise rain shower. The delivery took longer than expected."
"Well, get changed before you catch cold. Dinner's almost ready." She studied me for a moment, and I wondered if she could sense the lie.
"Where's Silver?" I asked, desperate to change the subject.
"At his desk. That boy and his homework—I swear he's going to be valedictorian someday."
I found my nine-year-old brother hunched over his science textbook, scribbling furiously. "Hey, smarty-pants."
His head snapped up, face breaking into a grin. "Lily! Check this out—I'm building a model solar system for science class. Mr. Peterson says mine might win the competition!"
I mustered enthusiasm I didn't feel. "That's awesome, Silver."
"You okay? You look weird."
Leave it to Silver to notice. "Just tired. Long day."
Dinner was Martha's famous spaghetti and meatballs. I pushed the food around my plate, my stomach in knots.
"You barely touched your dinner," Martha noted.
"Just not very hungry," I lied.
Silver, oblivious, chatted about school and friends. Martha talked about her day at the senior center. I nodded and smiled at appropriate intervals, but inside, my wolf continued to writhe. Every breath felt like inhaling glass.
After helping clear the table, I excused myself for a shower. Once alone in the bathroom, I turned the water as hot as I could stand and stepped under the spray.
Only then did I allow myself to break.
Sobs racked my body as I scrubbed frantically at my hair, desperate to remove any trace of the Midnight Blake had poured over me. The humiliation burned almost as much as the physical pain.
"It's not fair," I whispered, sliding down the shower wall until I sat under the scalding water. My wolf howled in silent agony.
I remembered the night of my fifteenth birthday—running away from my drunk father, the unexpected shift in the woods, the terror and exhilaration as fur sprouted from my skin. I'd been so young. Too young, according to everything Darius had just told me.
I'd awakened at fifteen, alone in the rain, terrified and exhilarated. I'd stumbled upon the abandoned Moon Temple that night, taking shelter beneath its crumbling roof. The moonlight had filtered through the broken ceiling, bathing me in silver light as my wolf emerged for the first time.
And now, three years later, my early awakening—something that should have marked me for greatness—had become my curse. I was bound to an Alpha who despised me, his rejection slowly poisoning my wolf from the inside.
I sat there until the water ran cold, washing away my tears but not my pain.
The apartment was quiet when I finally emerged from my room near midnight. Martha's soft snores drifted from her bedroom, and Silver's door was firmly closed. I moved silently through our small living room, slipping on my shoes by the door.
My wolf's pain had become unbearable, a constant fire burning through my veins. I needed help, and I knew only one place to seek it.
The night air was cool against my damp cheeks as I made my way through the sleeping town. Most shops were dark, though the occasional bar or convenience store cast pools of neon light onto the sidewalk. I stuck to the shadows, not wanting to be recognized.
My feet knew the way, even after three years. Out past the town limits, up the overgrown path that few remembered existed. The Moon Temple had been abandoned decades ago when the pack built their modern meeting hall in town. Now it stood as a crumbling reminder of older, more spiritual times.
As I approached the ancient stone structure, my wolf stirred differently—not in pain, but in recognition. This was where she had first emerged. This was sacred ground.
The temple's roof had partially collapsed years ago, leaving the central altar exposed to the night sky. The full moon shone directly through this opening, illuminating the stone circle in the center.
I stepped carefully over fallen columns and made my way to the altar. Kneeling on the cold stone, I raised my face to the moon above.
"Moon goddess," I whispered. "Please help me. I can't bear this pain." My voice broke. "He rejected me—your chosen mate rejected me. My wolf is dying."
