Chapter 79

Ava

I stepped out of the front door of my cottage, feeling much better after a shower and changing into some clean clothes. Chris, who had been waiting for me in the garden, met my gaze as I approached and shot me one of his signature roguish smirks.

“You look hot.”

“Not in public,” I teased, swatting at him; although, the compliment did make my cheeks heat up a bit. I had picked out a flowy sundress, sandals, and a wide-brimmed hat to protect my face from the sun.

“So, where are we headed?” he asked, sticking his hands into his pockets as we began to walk.

I nodded my head toward the sound of the temple bell up ahead. “You don’t know?” I asked.

Chris furrowed his brow. “The temple? Since when do you visit the temple?”

I shrugged. “It’s been a while,” I admitted, “but it’s a nice day, and maybe after what happened yesterday…” I paused, shooting him a sidelong glance.

He seemed to get the idea, and nodded. “I see. What’s your offering?”

Smiling, I pulled the fresh orange from my tree out of my pocket and held it up. “What else would you expect?”

As we passed beneath the large archway and continued down the winding path, a light breeze blew across the pebbled pathway, causing the light pink cherry blossoms to float through the air and swirled around our feet.

It was like something out of a painting, with the small shrine up ahead at the end of the path; and for a moment, I kicked myself for not coming more often. The last time I had visited the Moon Goddess temple had been… far too long.

“Have you visited since you returned to the pack?” I asked, glancing over at Chris.

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “No. Is that bad?”

“I mean, if what happened last night was truly a sign from the Moon Goddess… then how mad could she be?” I teased.

Eventually, the canopy of cherry blossoms gave way to the centerpiece of the temple: an ornate wooden structure with stairs leading up to it, and inside, through the large open archway, we could see the intricate stone statue of the Moon Goddess sitting in the center.

“I forgot how beautiful this place is,” Chris said softly as we climbed the stairs, politely nodding toward passersby.

I hummed in agreement, my eyes adjusting to the darkness as we stepped inside. The statue of the Moon Goddess seemed to tower over us now, her long gown and sleek hair seeming all too real. At her feet knelt the lone figure of a powerful male wolf, her hand resting on the top of his head.

“Ares,” Chris said quietly, keeping his voice low so as to not disturb those who were praying. “Did you know that Ares is the god of war in the human world?”

“I did know that,” I replied.

“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” he asked. “That the name of the wolf who supposedly founded our pack also happens to be a human god? It makes you wonder which came first: the chicken or the egg.”

“In some ways, yes.” I shrugged one shoulder. “But you have to remember, we do share common ancestry with the humans stretching back millions of years. Even if we eventually splintered off into our own cultures and societies, it makes sense that there would still be areas of overlap when it comes to certain stories, symbols, figures of worship, and so on. Our histories, mythologies—they're bound to have bled into one another over the centuries.”

Chris considered that for a moment, chewing absently on his lower lip as he studied the statue. “So... what, then? You’re saying all these gods we’ve historically worshiped across different cultures and civilizations are actually just different interpretations of the same core deities? Like some weird, convoluted cosmic game of telephone?”

I felt a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. Leave it to Chris to reduce something like this down to its most simplistic form. “More or less, I suppose,” I conceded with a slightly bashful laugh. “Although personally, I subscribe to the idea that maybe all versions of a given deity are equally real and valid.”

A furrow formed in Chris’s brow. “How does that work, exactly?”

Slowly, I guided him over toward the altar, gesturing for him to sit beside me on the polished stone bench in front of the offering trays. “Well, you have to think about it this way,” I began, slipping the orange out of my pocket again. “Deities are abstract concepts, metaphysical entities that only exist in the collective consciousness of those who choose to believe in them, right? Their power comes from faith.”

Chris’s expression remained impassive, but the slightest dip of his chin prompted me to continue.

“So from that perspective, couldn’t you imagine all the different iterations of Ares—the second son of the Moon Goddess, the founder of Moonstone pack, and the human god of war—as equally real versions of the same fundamental idea? Like the beliefs and feelings and experiences and cultural identities of everyone who worshiped and prayed to him gave simultaneous rise to all of his various forms?”

Recognition filled the green depths of Chris’s eyes as realization appeared to dawn on him. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, sitting silently for a long moment. I had clearly given the man plenty to unpack and process—hopefully not too much.

“That’s, uh…” He trailed off, shaking his head slowly. “That’s heavy stuff, Ava. You have no idea how many times I’ve asked myself these sorts of questions and never found the answers. But you handled it so eloquently.”

Smiling, I handed him the orange. “Here.”

Chris looked at the orange for a moment without taking it. “You want me to—”

“Just place it on the altar,” I said, nudging it toward him a little. “You don’t have to pray if you don’t want to.”

For a few moments, Chris just blinked at me, his gaze shifting back and forth between me, the orange, and the altar in front of us. I felt as though I could practically see the gears turning behind his eyes, his frazzled attempts at understanding the metaphysical entity that we knew as the Moon Goddess seeming to fray with each passing second.

But then, finally, he gingerly took the orange. I watched with patient silence as he carefully placed it into the tray, opening his mouth to say something but then quickly shutting it again before turning to me with a look of childlike confusion flickering through his eyes.

“Did I… Did I do it right?” he whispered; although this time, he didn’t check his tone, and his voice accidentally carried up through the high ceilings of the temple.

I couldn’t help but smile as a few snickers of nearby temple visitors floated through the air—not out of cruelty, but rather adoration of their sometimes-clueless Alpha.

“Yes,” I said, standing. “You did.”

Chris let out a slow breath and stood alongside me. For a few more moments, we just stared up at the statue of our goddess and our pack’s founder, taking in the sight of the beautiful stonework before we finally turned and headed back outside into the bright sun.

We were hardly halfway down the path, however, when a familiar, tall form materialized up ahead: Leonard.

“There you are,” he said, rushing toward us. He stopped in front of us, slightly out of breath, his salt-and-pepper hair tousled by the breeze.

“Leonard,” Chris said, inclining his head politely. “Is everything alright? You look—”

“She’s awake.”