Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
Darkness falls quickly in the mountains, the last rays of sunset giving way to deep purple twilight as we make our way to the Moonstone Clearing.
Ryker walks beside me, a steady presence radiating power and purpose.
Unlike the others, who wear minimal clothing for easy shifting, he’s dressed in formal attire—black pants, a sleeveless shirt that displays the painted runes marking his left shoulder, and a cloak fastened with a gold clasp shaped like a crescent moon embracing a star.
I’m similarly adorned, though my outfit was clearly designed with my human form in mind.
The dress Lithia brought to our chambers is midnight blue, its fabric light enough for movement but warm enough for the mountain air.
Gold embroidery traces patterns along its edges—the same runes that mark Ryker’s shoulder, symbols of the Shadowmist’s ancient lineage.
The path to the clearing winds through old-growth forest; solar powered lights illuminate our way at regular intervals. Around us, pack members move in anticipation, voices hushed. I catch glimpses of Zella among them, her encouraging smile easing some of my tension.
“Remember,” Ryker murmurs as we near our destination, “you are my equal. No hesitation. No submission.”
I nod, drawing strength from his confidence and the claiming bond humming between us. Days ago, I might have faltered under the weight of such expectations. Now, after seeing the truth of what we face, what’s coming for us, my resolve is hardening.
The mark at my throat pulses, and I’m hyperaware of Ryker’s body as we walk. His scent wraps around me, a deep ache igniting in my belly.
My wolf stirs, restless beneath my skin. She too is watching him with sharp interest.
His shoulder brushes mine and my breath catches. My skin feels too tight, every hair on my body vibrating with awareness of him.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. The sharp line of his jaw. The way his fingers flex like he’s readying for a fight.
Or a touch.
I shouldn’t be thinking about touch right now. But I am.
He catches me staring. “Okay?”
I flush, turning to look ahead. “Yes.”
No, my wolf growls. We want. We ache. We need.
I ignore her as the trees open into the Moonstone Clearing—a vast natural amphitheater nestled in the mountainside.
At its center stands a circle of standing stones, each twice the height of a man, their surfaces covered in the same runes that decorate our clothing.
Moonlight bathes the entire clearing in silver, lending an otherworldly quality to the gathering.
Hundreds of wolves have already assembled, creating a living ring around the stone circle.
They part silently as we approach, bowing their heads in respect to their alpha.
I recognize faces from the den, Elias and his hunting unit including Zella, who offers a small wave; Lyra standing with other elders, Levi watching with the same unreadable expression I’ve come to expect from him.
Lithia awaits us at the circle’s entrance, formally dressed in silver and black. She bows deeply as we reach her.
“Alpha. Alpha Female.” Her acknowledgment of my title carries no trace of the hostility from our first meeting. “The pack is gathered. The moon rises full.”
“Let it begin,” Ryker commands.
A howl rises from somewhere in the forest—a signal that echoes across the clearing before being taken up by voice after voice until the night vibrates with their combined call. The sound resonates in my bones, awakening something primal.
Ryker leads me into the center of the stone circle, where a raised platform of polished granite awaits. We climb the shallow steps together, turning to face the gathered pack. From this vantage, I can see every face turned toward us, expectation heavy in the air.
“Wolves of the Shadowmist,” Ryker’s low, rumbling voice carries effortlessly across the clearing, the gravelly tone stroking a heated path across my skin. “Tonight we gather under the full moon’s blessing as we have for generations. Tonight we honor our ancestors, our traditions, our pack bonds.”
He places his hand at the small of my back, a public claim of possession and protection.
“Tonight I present my mate, Kitara, before the moon and the pack. Marked and claimed as Alpha Female of the Shadowmist.”
A murmur runs through the gathered wolves, not hostile but not entirely welcoming either. I stand taller, refusing to shrink under their scrutiny.
“Some question my choice,” Ryker continues, his tone hardening slightly.
“Some see only her human form and not the gift she carries. Let me be clear—my mate is the first true seer to join our pack in a generation. Her visions have already saved Shadowmist lives. Her gift will help us face the storms that gather against us.”
His hand moves to my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Step forward, Kitara. Let the pack see their Alpha Female.”
Heart pounding, I move to the edge of the platform. The moonlight seems to intensify as I reach the edge, bathing me in silver radiance that makes the embroidery on my dress shimmer like liquid metal.
“I come before you as I am,” I say, my voice steadier than I expected. “Just as the Moon Goddess shaped me. I cannot run with you as wolf, but I will see for you as seer. I cannot fight with claws, but I will protect with visions.”
The words feel right, flowing from some deep well of certainty I didn’t know I possessed.
“I am Kitara, mate to your Alpha, claimed and marked.” I touch the claiming mark at my throat, feeling Ryker’s power pulse in response. “And I pledge my gift, my loyalty, my life to the Shadowmist Pack.”
Silence falls over the clearing, heavy with judgment and decision. For a heartbeat that stretches into eternity, I wait—exposed, vulnerable, wondering if my words will be enough to bridge the gap between what they expected and what I am.
Then, from the edge of the circle, a howl rises—Lyra, the elder, her song carries the unmistakable cadence of acceptance. Another joins her—Elias, then Zella, then more voices I can’t identify until the clearing rings with their acknowledgment.
Not universal, not complete—I can see faces that remain silent, eyes that watch with reservation. But enough. Enough to begin.
The pack shed their clothing then Ryker steps forward again, standing naked beside me as the howls gradually subside. Pride flows through our bond, warming me from within.
“Tonight we run under the full moon’s blessing,” he announces. “Tonight we hunt as one pack, one blood, one purpose.”
He turns to me, his mismatched eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Are you ready?”
I nod, knowing what comes next. We’ve discussed it, planned it, but the reality still makes my heart race with equal parts nervousness and anticipation.
In one fluid motion, Ryker shifts. Where the alpha stood a moment before, now towers his massive wolf form—midnight-black fur rippling with silver highlights, shoulders level with my own despite my standing on the raised platform.
His mismatched eyes—gold and blood-red—fix on mine as he moves to position himself beside me.
The gasps and murmurs from the gathered pack confirm what I already knew—this is unprecedented. The Alpha will carry his mate who cannot shift, rather than leaving her behind.
With practiced movements, I gather my dress and slide onto Ryker’s back. My fingers tangle in his thick fur, securing my position as he adjusts to my weight. Through our bond, I feel his satisfaction, his pleasure at this public display of our connection.
Mine, his thoughts reach me, clearer than they’ve ever been before. My mate. My queen.
He turns to face the pack, presenting us together—Alpha and Alpha Female, unified despite my inability to shift. Then, without warning, he leaps from the platform, landing with effortless grace despite my added weight.
The pack parts before us as Ryker pads to the edge of the stone circle. At some unspoken signal, the gathered wolves begin to shift—a wave of transformation rippling through the clearing until hundreds of wolves stand where humans had been moments before.
Lithia approaches in her wolf form—silver-gray with striking white markings around her eyes, the same scar that marks her human face visible as a line of white fur down her muzzle. She bows her head to us before taking position at Ryker’s right flank.
Elias joins her, his russet fur gleaming in the moonlight, followed by the rest of his hunting unit. Zella’s wolf form is sleek and lithe, with unusual markings that remind me of dappled sunlight through leaves. She nods to me as she takes her place, eyes bright with excitement.
Ryker throws back his head and howls—a sound so powerful it seems to shake the very stones beneath us. The pack answers, hundreds of voices joining in a primal chorus that vibrates through my chest and echoes across the mountains.
Then we run.
Ryker leads the charge from the clearing into the forest beyond, the pack flowing around us like a living river of fur and fang.
I cling to his back, the wind whipping through my hair as we race through the darkness.
His powerful muscles bunch and release beneath me, carrying us effortlessly over fallen logs and rocky outcroppings.
I’ve never experienced anything like this—the speed, the freedom, the belonging.
Through our bond, I feel Ryker’s wild joy, his wolf exulting in the run, in the night, in the pack that follows him.
And beneath that, pride that his mate rides with him, that he can share this most sacred ritual with me despite my human form.
Ride me, my queen.
I lean down, pressing myself against him.
Like this?
He lifts his head to howl his approval.