Chapter 69
Dawn of the full moon ceremony arrived with expectation hanging in the air. I watched the sun rise from my window, mentally preparing for what lay ahead. Today would be pivotal—for me, for Raymond, for the entire pack. I could feel it in my bones.
I prepared meticulously, knowing all eyes would be watching my performance as Luna. Beneath my ceremonial robes—midnight blue with silver embroidery depicting moon phases—I wore Kane's protective clothing, with the silver dagger secured against my thigh and my special cane within reach. I styled my hair to leave the silver crescent visible, a deliberate statement that would fuel whispers already spreading through the pack.
"The security team is in position," Kane's voice came through the communication device concealed in my pendant. "Remember your extraction signals if things go wrong."
"I remember," I assured him, drawing comfort from his steady presence even at a distance. "Any unusual activity?"
"Nothing yet, but stay alert. Giana disappeared for nearly an hour before dawn. We couldn't track her movements."
That information sent a chill through me. What had she been preparing?
A messenger arrived with a summons from Raymond—a pre-ceremony meeting with elders and council members. When I entered the chamber, I found Giana already seated in the traditional Luna position beside Raymond, her eyes gleaming with subtle triumph.
The room fell uncomfortable silent as I entered, the power dynamic instantly shifting. All eyes moved between us—the official Luna versus the Alpha's chosen companion—the embodiment of the division growing within our pack.
Rather than challenge the seating arrangement, I took the only remaining chair with quiet dignity. Making a scene would only reinforce any narrative about my instability.
"Thank you for joining us, Aurora," Raymond said pointedly, omitting my Luna title.
I inclined my head slightly. "I would never miss a council meeting before such an important ceremony, Alpha."
The emphasis on his title while he had ignored mine was subtle but noticed by several elders, whose expressions flickered with approval. Protocol mattered in these ancient proceedings, and Raymond's slip revealed his uncertainty.
Raymond explained they'd adapted certain ceremonial elements "to reflect modern sensibilities."
"Which elements specifically?" I asked, my tone perfectly reasonable though my suspicion grew with each evasive glance he exchanged with Giana.
"The order of rituals," Giana interjected before Raymond could answer. "And the division of ceremonial duties."
I carefully observed which elders appeared supportive versus concerned about these changes. My years of Luna training had taught me to read the subtle politics of council gatherings. To my surprise, Elder Morris—one of the most traditional council members and previously a staunch supporter of Raymond's father—caught my eye with a subtle nod of alliance.
"The traditional Luna role has been divided between us," Giana explained with artificial sweetness. "You'll conduct the opening prayers while I lead the moon blessing."
I immediately recognized the trap—the moon blessing involved drinking ceremonial wine, which would be the perfect opportunity to deliver poison. The realization sent ice through my veins, but years of political training kept my expression neutral.
"Actually, our traditions are quite specific," I countered smoothly. "The Luna who begins the ceremony must complete it. This maintains the spiritual continuity of the ritual."
Giana's composure slipped slightly. "Well, in this case we thought—"
"The sacred texts are clear," Elder Morris interrupted, surprising me with his support. "Breaking ceremonial continuity invites the Moon Goddess's displeasure. It has been thus for seventeen generations."
Several other elders nodded agreement, unwilling to risk supernatural displeasure regardless of political considerations. Raymond looked displeased but couldn't argue against traditional protocol in front of the conservative elders.
"They're improvising now," Kane warned through my device. "Be extremely careful."
The ceremony began at sunset, with the pack gathered in the sacred circle. Torches illuminated the ancient stone formation where generations of Blood Moon wolves had celebrated the lunar cycle. I stood regally in full Luna regalia, the silver crescent on my neck deliberately visible to all.
Pack members whispered at the sight, speculation rippling through the crowd. I caught fragments of conversation—"the mark is fading," "something new is forming," "the Moon Goddess herself"—spreading like wildfire among the onlookers.
Raymond performed the Alpha's ceremonial role with rigid formality, avoiding direct contact with me throughout the ritual. His discomfort was evident to anyone familiar with pack ceremonies, where Alpha and Luna typically moved in coordinated harmony.
When the crucial moment arrived for the Luna's moon blessing, I approached the ceremonial chalice with deliberate grace. The ancient silver cup gleamed in the torchlight, filled with deep red wine from our pack's sacred vineyard.
Giana moved slightly closer, her expression tense with anticipation. Kane's warning came immediately through the device: "The wine. Don't drink it."
I lifted the chalice, performing the blessing exactly as tradition dictated, my voice strong and clear in the hushed circle. "Blood of the earth, blessed by moonlight, binding our pack as one spirit, one strength, one future."
Instead of drinking immediately as was customary, I called for something unprecedented: "As is sometimes traditional in times of transition, I invite the elders to witness the blessing through shared communion."
This improvisation caused visible panic on Giana's face—clearly the poisoned wine was intended only for me. She stepped forward as if to object, but hesitated as the crowd watched.
Elder Morris immediately stepped forward in support. "A wise revival of the ancient practice," he declared, taking the chalice from my hands.
He took a ceremonial sip before passing it to the next elder. Giana attempted to intervene. "Perhaps we should continue with the modern version—"
The elders ignored her, continuing the cup's journey through their circle. When it finally returned to me, it had been emptied by their collective sips.
"It seems we'll need more blessed wine," I announced calmly.
A server immediately brought forward the reserve ceremonial wine, pouring a fresh chalice. I completed the blessing with this untainted wine, deliberately meeting Giana's eyes as I drank.
The ceremony continued with me performing each Luna ritual flawlessly, demonstrating my superior knowledge of traditions. The pack responded with increasing warmth, many approaching to touch my hand in the traditional gesture of respect.
As the rituals concluded, Raymond made an unexpected announcement: "Tonight we also celebrate Delta Giana's formal elevation to senior council."
This declaration caused murmurs among traditionalists—such advancement normally required years of service and pack contribution. The power play was obvious to anyone with knowledge of pack politics.
After the ceremony, Elder Morris approached me. "Your performance tonight reminded many why you were chosen as Luna," he said quietly. "Some of us have not forgotten what true leadership looks like."
During the reception that followed, I strategically reconnected with key pack members, rebuilding alliances that had been neglected during my absence. My childhood friend Lily found a moment to approach me, slipping a note into my hand: "Be careful. G has more supporters than you realize."
I positioned myself to overhear council members discussing plans for "territorial reassignment" after the upcoming Alpha Council meeting.
"The eastern quarter would be ceded entirely?" a councilor asked in hushed tones.
"Officially designated as neutral territory," another replied. "Though privately promised to the Rogue Alliance as a gesture of goodwill."
The information sent alarm through me. Territorial concessions to rogues? That went beyond unusual diplomacy into dangerous territory.
"We've detected movement at the eastern perimeter," Kane warned through the communication device. "Security team is investigating."
I excused myself from the reception, citing fatigue from my still-healing injuries. As I left, I noticed my father deep in conversation with two unfamiliar wolves from the outer territories. Their sudden silence when they noticed my attention spoke volumes.
Back in my quarters, I secured the room before reporting to Kane: "Something's happening with the eastern border."
"My scouts report increased rogue activity," he confirmed. "The same coordinated movements as before."
I connected this with the overheard conversation. "They're planning something involving territory. Territorial concessions to rogues—that's what the council members were discussing."
Tonight's ceremony had revealed more than just pack politics—it had exposed the first threads of a plot that seemed to extend far beyond our borders. Whatever Giana was planning involved external forces, territorial realignments, and a level of coordination that suggested long-term planning.
I had disrupted one trap, but I knew with certainty that a larger, more dangerous one was already being set.
