Chapter 77
The ceremony for Giana's appointment as Delta approached, with elaborate preparations emphasizing her new status. The pack hall had been transformed with lavish decorations—silver banners bearing the Blood Moon emblem, rare mountain flowers imported at great expense, and ceremonial torches crafted by the pack's most skilled artisans.
I watched the preparations from the Luna's balcony, noting how the traditional symbols had been modified to showcase Giana specifically. The customary blue-and-silver color scheme now incorporated touches of deep crimson—Giana's favorite color, not coincidentally reminiscent of blood.
"Subtle, isn't she?" Kane remarked dryly, appearing beside me. "The crimson accents are traditionally reserved for Alpha ceremonies."
"She's staking her claim," I agreed quietly. "Making it clear she sees herself as more than just Delta."
We had developed our strategy carefully. I would attend as required by my Luna position, using the opportunity to identify which pack members aligned with Giana. Kane would maintain his distance publicly but establish a subtle signal system to communicate throughout the event.
"Remember the signals," he reminded me that morning as we finalized our plans. "Touch your left earring if you need immediate extraction. Adjust your bracelet if you notice something requiring investigation later."
"And you'll touch your wolf pendant if you spot potential allies," I confirmed, rehearsing our silent language.
Kane nodded. "I'll have three operatives positioned throughout the ceremony. They appear to be Raymond's security, but they answer only to me."
The preparation for such an event would normally fall to the Luna, but Raymond had explicitly assigned most duties to Giana—another break with tradition signaling her growing influence.
I used this unexpected freedom to observe which pack members eagerly assisted Giana versus those who performed their duties with reluctant formality. The division was becoming clearer, with younger wolves and ambitious council members gravitating toward her while traditionalists maintained polite distance.
Raymond became increasingly formal with me as the ceremony approached, our interactions rigidly official but with undercurrents of unresolved emotion. When we passed in corridors, his gaze would often linger on the silver crescent at my neck before quickly averting.
"The ceremonial blessing requires Luna participation," he informed me during a tense meeting. "It's expected that you will present the Delta medallion."
"Of course," I replied with practiced calm. "Tradition must be maintained."
Something flickered in his eyes at my emphasis on tradition—a moment of recognition that quickly disappeared beneath the fog of Giana's influence.
During preparations, I noticed more frequent moments when Raymond seemed to struggle internally. While reviewing the ceremony protocols, he paused mid-sentence several times, confusion crossing his face as he stared at ancient practices that Giana had altered.
"This isn't right," he murmured once, tracing a modified blessing with his finger. "The words are different."
"They're the original verses," I confirmed gently. "The ones your father insisted we preserve."
Raymond's brow furrowed, memory battling against manipulation. "My father was... very traditional."
For a brief moment, clarity sharpened his features before Giana entered the room. As always, her arrival coincided too perfectly with Raymond's moments of independent thought.
These glimpses of the real Raymond beneath the manipulation stirred my compassion rather than romantic feelings. The boy I had grown up with—honest, principled, and kind—was still fighting to break free.
The day before the ceremony, I received an urgent message from my mother reporting strangers watching her safe house. The communication was coded in the private language we had developed during my childhood.
"Shadows at my windows. Moving the paintings to safer walls. Remember where we buried your childhood treasures."
Kane immediately dispatched security when I showed him the message, his protective instincts extending to anyone I cared about.
"They're trying to reestablish leverage over you," he observed grimly. "Your father must realize you're slipping from his control."
That evening, I confronted my father directly, finding him leaving the council chambers after a late meeting.
"Are you having Mother watched?" I demanded without preamble.
His expression remained cold and calculating. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me," I pressed. "Someone is monitoring her safe house. You're the only one who knew its location."
"Your continued opposition has consequences," he said finally, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "The path to power requires sacrifices—I taught you that from childhood."
"You taught me to surrender my own happiness for political advantage," I corrected. "But you never taught me how to recognize when I was being used as a pawn in someone else's game."
The confrontation confirmed the painful truth I'd been avoiding: my father never truly loved me. I had been merely a pawn in his political ambitions.
Kane found me afterward in the moonlight garden, offering silent support that meant more than words could express.
"He never really loved me," I finally whispered. "All those years trying to earn his approval..."
Kane's hand covered mine, warm and steady. "Some people are incapable of love as we understand it. That's their failing, not yours."
During final ceremony preparations, I overheard Giana speaking with one of her supporters, their voices hushed but audible from my position behind a decorative screen.
"Once the territory transfers are complete, the alliance will solidify," Giana was saying. "The Rogue King expects results on the promised timeline."
"The Alpha King's appearance complicated matters," the supporter responded. "His interest in the Luna is concerning."
"It won't matter once the borders are secured," Giana assured him. "Without the traditional boundaries, the old magic weakens."
I leaned closer, but a floorboard creaked beneath my weight. Giana fell silent immediately.
When I emerged from behind the screen, I found Raymond watching me, his expression torn between suspicion and confusion.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
"I could ask Giana the same question," I countered. "What territory transfers is she discussing with the Rogue King?"
Raymond's expression shifted through multiple emotions—disbelief, anger, and momentary clarity before confusion returned. "I don't know what you think you heard, but Giana has only the pack's interests at heart."
"Then why modify the border markers?" I challenged. "Why change security protocols that have protected us for generations?"
His brow furrowed, genuine confusion replacing anger. "I don't know what to believe anymore," he admitted. "Sometimes I feel like I'm waking from a dream, but then everything gets foggy again."
I felt genuine compassion for his confusion. "Trust your instincts, Raymond. Deep down, you know something isn't right."
For a moment, we connected as we had in childhood—two people who had once trusted each other implicitly. Then Giana appeared, her timing impeccable as always, and the fog descended over Raymond once more.
The ceremony loomed before us, a public spectacle that would further cement Giana's position unless we found a way to disrupt her carefully constructed plans. As I prepared my ceremonial attire, I touched the silver crescent at my neck, drawing strength from its warmth.
The next day would test everything we had learned and planned. Giana's elevation to Delta would grant her access to pack records, security protocols, and decision-making processes that could prove devastating in the wrong hands. Yet it would also provide the perfect opportunity to observe her supporters and perhaps expose the larger conspiracy.
Kane appeared at my door as I finished my preparations, his expression serious but determined.
"Ready for tomorrow?" he asked.
I nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle over me like a cloak. "As ready as I can be."
"Remember," he said quietly, "you're not the same Luna who left here broken weeks ago. You've found your strength, your true purpose. Trust that."
His words resonated with truth I felt in my bones. Tomorrow would bring challenges, but I would face them as myself—not as someone else's pawn, but as a Luna who had chosen her own path and the allies who walked beside her.
