Chapter 91

Olivia POV

I had always admired blood woods. Unlike the rather ugly bloodwood trees of southern Africa (so named because they seemed to “bleed” red sap when cut), blood woods’ deep scarlet color, elegantly twisted trunk, and thickly canopied dark green leaves made them a delightful focal point of any forest or garden.

We had several in the garden where I grew up. They were too delicate for me to climb as a child, but their branches hosted a hanging red moss that varied in color from light pink to, well, blood red. It was illegal to pick the moss from the tree, but I used to collect the fallen and fragrant moss from the ground, heat it in the oven to take care of mites and other pests, and then weave little creatures and shapes from the thin strands.

Of course, doing that would dye my hands red for days, but fortunately that only made my mother laugh.

I felt a pang as I looked over the guest list for the banquet. I loved my mother fiercely and had been so proud of her for being the first female Pack Alpha in the history of Moonshadow Pack. That was all before her coma, of course, which had held her in its strange thrall for so long now.

Usually, such thoughts took me to my mother’s bedside, but there was too much to be done. The Blood Wood Banquet needed to be perfect.

I looked at the designs I and Jordan had made for the décor and smiled in satisfaction. In addition to its rare beauty, the blood wood featured in more than a few legends and folk tales.

My favorite story as a child—and to be honest, still my favorite—concerned a pair of young raccoons that came to a blood wood tree night of a full moon to steal some moss and berries for their soon-to-be-born kits.

They crept up to the tree, the female stepping lightly around her swollen belly, but before they could touch it, a strong wind blew through the branches, which promptly dropped moss and berries on the ground. The pregnant raccoon cooed and purred in gratitude, and they gorged themselves on berries before they snuggled into the warm nest they fashioned from the moss.

They ate so much, in fact, that they did not awaken with the sun, and so they did not know a jackal was nearby and sniffing for its breakfast until it was too late to make a run for it. The raccoons clung to each other and remained as still as they could.

“I’m sorry, dearest,” said the male raccoon. “I didn’t keep a good watch.”

“It’s not your fault. The tree was so kind that we forgot the world can be cruel,” said the female raccoon.

The jackal was almost upon them, sniffing loudly now, when another strong wind blew through the tree, and great heaps of sweet-smelling moss dropped over them, hiding them from view. The jackal kept sniffing the ground, but all it could smell was the moss, and soon enough, it left the area to look for prey elsewhere.

The two greatly relieved raccoons emerged from the pile of moss and thanked the tree for its kindness. They swore they would look after it for the rest of their lives, and to this day, the tale concludes, if you approach a blood wood during the full moon, you’ll see a mischievous raccoon or tree nestling in the moss.

I had thought about adding raccoons to the banquet decorations, but they didn’t really strike the tone I was looking for. At Jordan’s suggestion, we ended up with centerpieces that featured blood wood branches radiating out like the sunrise: a new day for a new beginning.

I looked up at a knock on my door and saw Ines. I waved her inside with a smile, but that quickly faded when I saw she had been crying.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as gently as I could as I led her to the room’s long, soft sofa and had her sit down.

She took a moment to respond. “It just, it gets difficult to listen to them.”

I nodded, understanding immediately. “The stories from the omegas?”

She shrugged. “Not just omegas: gentler betas, alphas who don’t project enough strength every moment of the day are tormented as well.”

I sat there with her in silence, trying to project empathy.

“I was just talking to a little boy. He loved his alpha father, and they would go to the market to sell the cloth he made on their family’s loom. One day, a drunken alpha looking for a fight smashed the loom and killed his father right in front of him.”

“Oh no,” I whispered.

“Because the victim was an alpha, the murderer did end up in prison, but what does that mean to the little pup? He just misses his father.”

“Is his mother still alive?” I asked.

“Yes, we don’t have to find him a new home.” Ines’s tone made it clear she didn’t consider that much of a consolation.

“Where was this?”

“World-Class Markets, in Cory.”

I nodded and took Ines’s hand. That was deep in Ravenscrest territory. “I’ll tell Elroy. We’ll need to talk to the family.”

She nodded, and we both just sat there for a while. We had so much cruelty to deal with, so many ways wolves were unkind to each other, I know we were both feeling overwhelmed.

“Luna?” Jordan called, sweeping into the room holding what looked like miles of red fabric.

I motioned for Ines to stay on the sofa and stood before walking across the room to look over the hand-stitched silk in Jordan’s arms. I nodded in satisfaction.

“Luna?” Jordan asked much more quietly as she looked over at Ines.

“A sad business,” I said simply, and Jordan took the hint and did not inquire further.

“This is perfect,” I told her, fingering the fine, smooth material and peering deeper into the embroidered branches and berries.

“I was so eager to show you,” Jordan murmured to me. “But I suppose the dress seems a bit frivolous now.”

I shook my head. “My mother told me a banquet can be more effective than a battlefield. We’re going to impress them with pageantry and stroke their egos until they all come around to our ways of thinking.”

“Luna willing,” Jordan said.

“Yes,” Jordan said firmly, and I turned slightly to see she had joined us. “It’s perfect.”

And Jordan was right. Three days later I stood with Elroy at my side in the palace’s grand ballroom in a dress that looked like a blood wood without remotely veering close to being a costume. I was surrounded by delicacies and obviously charmed guests. It was just what I wanted.

“You’ve triumphed,” Elroy said into my ear once we were well into the evening. “You can practically see everyone’s fur settling.”

I grinned at him. “It is nice to see people getting along for a change, even if it is at a political party.”

I turned to Elroy to share the joke, but he was looking away from me. I followed his gaze to a tall alpha who seemed oddly familiar and quite prepossessing. Many wolves, male and female, were showing their open admiration for the dashing figure he cut.

“Who’s that?” Elroy growled softly, which surprised me.

“I don’t know. Someone’s plus one, I suppose,” I said then surprised a little start when the man turned his head our way and nodded.