Chapter 70
The Pack
Generations had gone by since Lycan and Werewolf had seen each other as equals. Feuds and misunderstandings and prejudice kept a wall up between their worlds with only a few finding the means to pass between.
And now the pendulum was swinging back the other way.
The second day of the conference started with a breakfast and social hour, though many in attendance had spent the night before partying and already made new friends. Something about the setting made it feel like summer camp, and while there was work to be done there was also a lot of joy to share.
“We are so grateful to be here, and to see so many faces just as passionate about this work as we are.”
The Lycan delegation had taken the dais for opening remarks. A tall man, silver-haired with coffee-colored skin, had taken the microphone.
“This moment is indeed historic, and in just a short time here we have already come so far in establishing connections and deeper understanding of one another,” Martius continued, his voice deep and resonant. “Today we will hear from both sides, in organized speeches and with open table discussions. We are not here to make ‘demands’ of one another, but to discover how we can look after our neighbors and live in harmony alongside one another. We have more in common than we think, and our future generations will benefit
Others stood behind him, supporting. Most wore pleasant expressions, but the shorter woman on the end was smiling with her whole face.
She seemed to know something that the others didn’t, a sweet secret that came with the alliance being formed. Elena, Princess and Luna, was winning an extra prize: the reunion of her family.
If you followed the direction of her eyes, you would see her watching a man in the back. He was holding up a small child so she could see, her face covered in cream cheese. Killian was doing his best to clean her cheeks, but the headstrong toddler would not concede.
Liana raised her bagel in the air triumphantly as the applause continued to fill the room.
The conference concluded on Sunday, with a nearly unanimous vote confirming an alliance that served all sides. Enchanted fountain pens signed off on documents that upheld terms and promises, with room for the errors of humanity and hubris.
“Tonight,” an older woman in a long robe said, “we celebrate not only the union of our tribes, our packs, and our communities. We also celebrate the reunion of two long-lost lovers, leaders in their own right, and a couple that symbolizes all the potential we have as allies and friends.”
Killian stood next to Queen Lorena as she spoke. His suit jacket was pressed, but his soul was calm. Until, that is, he saw Elena enter the room and stand at the far end of the aisle. The guests on either side rose from their chairs, each a side a melange of cultures and identities on display.
“Breathe.”
Elena sent her Mate a hopeful smile, and the astonishment on his face melted back into ease. Elena wore a light gold dress, light enough to melt into her alabaster skin. Her long white hair was down, with two braids wrapping around her crown. A diadem wrapped around her forehead with a single Moonstone in the center.
Instead of flowers, she carried her daughter in her arms.
“Elena,” the Queen said, “do you choose, openly and honestly, to pledge yourself to this man, in body and soul, mind and heart, to have and to hold, to keep and to cherish, to uplift and to ground in love, so long as you live, in this life and the next?”
The crowd was silent, the future hanging.
“I do,” Elena said evenly.
“And, Killian, do you—“
“I do.”
A burst of laughter in the room, and even the Queen couldn’t fault the man for his eagerness. The bond between bride and groom was almost tangible, visible to the adoring crowd who loved a happy ending.
“By the power vested in me, by the Goddess of the Moon, and the spirits that protect us,” the Queen raised her arms to take in the universe, “I pronounce this union blessed, sacred, and unbreakable by any force of nature.”
The child was the first to clap as her grandmother finished her invocation, and the crowd cooed in admiration. Applause and cheers resounded in the room as Killian gently held Elena’s face and kissed her, the years they spent apart melting away. The laughter returned when Liana pressed her face between theirs and joined their embrace.
The couple turned out to face the crowd, fingers interlocked as they held their hands between them. They shared a breath together, feeling the power and comfort of their Fated Love. They looked out among their friends and loved ones, and into a brighter future ahead.
Elena
TEN. YEARS. LATER.
“MOM!”
I knew the exact timbre of that yell, and had an idea about what storm was making its way towards me. I put down the spade I was holding, brushing some dirt off my hands as I stood to face them. My hands automatically went to my hips, asserting my maternal dominance and control.
Callum, the nine-year-old, was looking smug as he followed his younger brother outside. Elliot, the seven-and-a-half-year-old, was holding a kite he made that was looking sad.
“He did it!” Elliot pointed at his brother. “He broke it on purpose!”
“No I didn’t!” Callum’s hands went up in the air in defense, and he looked so much like his father that I smiled.
“Mom, this is serious!”
“Of course it is honey,” I removed the smile and looked serious. “Whether or not Callum broke it, I am sure he would be more than happy to help you fix it. Isn’t that right, Cal?”
The boy’s face opened like a fish, then closed and scrunched into sourness. “Fine!”
Elliot looked mostly appeased, so I passed it off.
“Your father is good with those things,” I said, bending back to my weeds, “go ask him for help too.”
They trotted off, forgetting their fight quickly once they had permission to go and bug Killian in his office. I did this every so often when I thought he was working too hard. The children were good about giving him space, but the minute they knew it was “allowed” they would rain chaos and giggles down upon him.
I looked back away from the house, just to where our yard met the trees. A blanket was spread out in the shade, its three occupants content with their tea party and books and some sheets of paper to color.
Liana looked more like Killian everyday, and she would turn twelve-years-old in two days. Alicia, four-going-on-forty-years-old, was coloring as her older sister read some adventurous tale out loud. Between them was the baby, almost two-years-old, Larkin.
His older sisters doted on him, giving me time on these lazy Sundays to work in the garden and keep the house in order.
We were renovating, again, and had just cleared out a few trees to expand on one side. When we moved here, there was nothing but trees. Killian and I looked at a map and found a spot that suited our desire to be between our two homes. We invited a few trusted families along with our Betas, and started creating our own Pack.
Werewolves and Lycans alike have joined us over the ten years we’ve been here, aligning with our own growing family. When I think about the struggles it took me to get here, this decade feels like a dream.
And I hope I never wake up.
END.
