9. Lumi
Chapter 9
Lumi
I solde’s words cause my stomach to twist in on itself as I stare up at the people gathered on the hillside in a different light. There aren’t just shifters here—there are also witches and vampires. Staring around the hillside, I have no idea who is what.
I thought witches and vampires were our enemies. Or at least, I thought they didn’t care to interact with us. I was told we all keep to our own kind. Why would they care if we broke our curse or not?
There’s so much I don’t know, so much my father kept from me. Or our separation from the other packs kept the truth from all of us, including my father, this whole time.
“Three curses plague our different species. Three curses we have all suffered under for twenty-one years. But they will all be broken soon—starting with the shifter curse,” she continues.
I hang onto her every word, as it’s all brand new information to me. Three curses? How did I not know that? Are they all tied together? If one is broken, are they all broken?
“The prophecy states that the shifter curse will be the first to lift. Once it has been, the others will soon follow. For the wolf shifter curse to be broken, a shifter must find and mark their true mate. Once the bond is sealed, the curse will lift for all wolf shifters,” Isolde says.
All eyes are on her, and no other voice speaks as everyone listens intently. I’m sure they’ve all heard this information before, but I wouldn’t be able to tell.
Isolde turns to us. “Thank you all for agreeing to the offering. You hold the hope for us all.”
I shiver at her words.
“We shall begin,” Isolde says with a sly smile.
I don’t trust her. I don’t know if it’s that she’s a witch and my wolf instincts tell me not to trust her or if it’s the woman herself I don’t trust.
“Moonlight’s offering,” Isolde says.
“My name is Rowena.” Rowena stands, ignoring Isolde’s outstretched hand. Her long golden hair blows gently in the wind, and her body seems to glow brighter under the moonlight above. With her shoulders back and a focused look on her face, she walks forward with all the confidence in the world.
“Moonlight’s offering is Rowena,” Isolde announces to the crowd.
I hold my breath as the male alphas stand and form a circle on the opposite side of the stage. Rippling muscles, sharp cheekbones, and cutting gazes—every man is more attractive than the next, each shirtless with black pants.
Arousal and desire flick through me in spades, my body coming to life on its own accord. My mouth waters, my nipples harden, and wetness drips between my legs.
I want them. All of them. Any of them.
My female instincts have taken over any common sense. Any of these strong alphas could be my mate. I can smell each of their scents from here—musky, fresh, woody, citrusy, spicy. Somehow, each one seems like my own personal drug. I’m drawn to every smell for different reasons.
My eyes lock on Rowena as she enters the circle of alphas. The circle closes behind her as soon as she steps inside, the fifteen males caging her in.
I stare at the backs of the men closest to me. Their bodies are so large that I can barely see past them to the others. It takes everything inside me to stay seated instead of running into the circle and begging them all to kiss me, to lavish me, to choose me.
Somehow, I stay seated.
I hold my breath as I watch her through the gap between the backs of two of the men. I don’t know what to expect. Through the heat pulsing through my body, I feel fear for her. She’s the closest thing I have to a friend here, and she’s moments from death if one of the alphas mistakenly chooses her.
Live—Rowena. Live.
Rowena smiles softly, basking in the attention. Her beauty shines even brighter as she grins. She’s strong, standing with all the confidence in the world and showing no fear at all. She doesn’t cower in front of any of the alphas. It’s as if she was born to be an alpha’s mate. It would shock me if one of these men wasn’t her mate.
Rowena’s hands grip her gown and bunch it up at her thighs before lifting it over her head.
I gasp at her nakedness so easily on display in front of the others. She doesn’t flush or show any sign of embarrassment. But why would she? She’s gorgeous—flawless skin and a perfect hourglass shape to her curves.
She nods to the first alpha. He walks forward, circling her slowly as they both size each other up. Their eyes lock, and nostrils flare at each other. Growls leave each of their throats.
I flinch at the sound. From the way they are staring at each other, I can’t tell if they are about to kiss or tear each other apart.
Suddenly, the male backs down and returns to his spot in the circle.
The dance repeats itself thirteen more times with each alpha. Despite the growls being distinct every time, each still sends shivers down my spine for different reasons.
Finally, the last one approaches her—Nyx.
My eyes widen at the sight of him. I don’t know how I didn’t recognize him earlier around the circle. Of course, he’d be here. He was the alpha of the Bloodmoon pack, and I’m his offering.
I grind my teeth together and fist my hands at my side. If anything happens to me tonight, it will be his fault.
He circles Rowena quickly, barely sniffing her before returning to his spot. His eyes hardly look at her. Instead, they look flat and bored with this entire event.
My own eyes scan his body like they have every alpha. He’s as attractive as I remember, wearing the same dark pants as every man here. Without a shirt, I can see every line of muscle on his body. But unlike the others, I’m not turned on by looking at him. All I see when I look at him is anger. I want to make him pay for putting me in this situation.
As Nyx settles into his spot, I hold my breath again, not sure what’s about to happen next.
A howl leaves Rowena—long and fierce. The other alphas howl back. It’s as if they’re calling to each other, searching for the howl that matches their own—their mate.
And then, Rowena shifts.
My eyes widen at the beauty of watching her turn into her wolf form. A flash of gold surrounds her, and then a golden wolf with piercing yellow eyes stands where Rowena just was.
Her wolf form is as beautiful as her human one. Her fur is sleek, glowing with long, lean legs and a feminine fierceness in her eyes. She walks around the circle, sniffing each alpha.
None of the alphas shift.
None of them so much as move in her direction.
None of them are her mate.
None of them are choosing her, and she’s not choosing any of them.
I may not know much about this ceremony, but I know that much.
Isolde sighs, standing just out of the circle.
“Blackwater is next,” Isolde announces, defeat in her voice.
The alphas part, making way for Rowena to exit. She jumps off the back of the stage and disappears into the darkness of the forest beyond.
She lived.
I exhale.
She’s alive.
I can live.
If none of them are my mate, I can live long enough to find the shifter who is my mate. That is, if they don’t throw me out when they realize I can’t shift.
I hope shifting isn’t a requirement of the ceremony. Hopefully, that was a choice Rowena made, and not all the women here can shift.
But as the offering from Blackwater walks forward and repeats the exact same steps as Rowena, shifting into her gray wolf form at the end before walking out into the forest in disappointment, I know my secret is going to be exposed.
Panic rises in my throat. I’m not sure what to do. All I can do is hope that someone finds their mate and breaks the curse before I’m called.
“Ironclaw,” Isolde calls next.
A woman with waist-length, straight black hair walks into the circle. Adaluna is the name she gave Isolde. With striking features, she begins to repeat the same steps as the two before her, but as the fifth alpha—the one with red hair and a scar below his left black eye—approaches her, there’s a shift in the air. We all can feel it.
Breathlessly, they both stare at each other with an intense focus. Their gazes seem to lock as if the rest of us no longer exist to them.
When the next alpha tries to approach Adaluna, the red-haired alpha bares his teeth in his direction, preventing him from getting close to her.
A gasp echoes, rippling up the hillside of the amphitheater.
Could this be it? Could they have actually found their mates? Could they be the key to breaking the curse?
“Baelor,” the sixth alpha with the silver hair growls at him before he shifts into his wolf form on the spot. Baelor does the same—turning instantly into his wolf form and shoving Adaluna behind him.
She shifts instantly as the two alphas circle each other, growling and baring their teeth as if preparing to fight.
Adaluna tries to intervene, but Baelor growls low in her direction, warning her to stay out of the impending fight.
All the other alphas shift in a burst of energy flowing from the stage.
I gasp at the sight of the alphas. My father is large in his wolf form, but these alphas put my father to shame. I’ve never seen such large beasts before. Baelor howls, battling the first silver wolf off with ease.
A brown alpha with yellow eyes attacks Baelor, going for the throat. But Baelor leaps in the air, avoiding getting his neck bit, and tackles the brown alpha, easily pinning him to the ground.
The brown alpha yelps and retreats as soon as he is let up.
The pattern repeats again and again, and I realize why the alphas are challenging him. Not because they think Adaluna is their own mate but to ensure that she is Baelor’s.
Nyx puts up a strong fight. His midnight black fur wolf towers over Baelor. Nyx pins Baelor beneath him for a solid minute before he breaks free. Even though it’s clear that Nyx would have won that fight, he doesn’t challenge Baelor again, seemingly satisfied with the effort Baelor put in.
Finally, the largest wolf I’ve ever seen approaches Baelor, his howl louder than any I’ve ever heard. His fur is black with golden spots and streaks and glowing yellow eyes.
Ambrose—this must be Ambrose, the Moonlight’s alpha, and who Nyx was searching for when he carried me here.
He howls again. I instantly want to obey Ambrose’s command, even though I don’t know what he’s saying.
Baelor cowers for a split second at Ambrose’s howl, almost as if he wants to obey whatever command he’s saying, but he fights it. Ambrose doesn’t wait—he attacks. His teeth sink into Baelor’s neck with ease, like a knife through butter.
I squeeze my eyes into slits and look away, afraid I’m about to see Baelor’s death. There’s a yelp and whimper from Baelor, and I force myself to turn back.
Baelor limps, holding one of his paws up, but he doesn’t back down against Ambrose. Baelor continues to bare his teeth at Ambrose, as if he’s willing to die fighting for Adaluna. It’s clear that Baelor will die if Ambrose doesn’t back down.
Ambrose howls one more time, enough that every hair on my arm stands up. His howl is a warning. Then Ambrose retreats, the other alphas already forming a circle and making room for him in it.
Baelor and Adaluna now face each other in the circle of alphas. The tension is thick in the air, and I find myself holding my breath.
Baelor howls and Adaluna matches with her own.
The sound is in perfect harmony as they circle each other and nuzzle their heads together. The embrace is as if they’re finding the other piece of their soul.
A tear rolls down my cheek, and my lips curl up. This—this is how shifters were always meant to be. Finding their other halves. Living with love, not living broken.
The circle parts, and Isolde walks into the circle with them. Her jaw is tense and her eyebrows are furrowed in determination.
There’s a tingle in my chest, and my breath catches once again.
“Do you, Baelor, accept Adaluna as your mate?” Isolde asks.
Baelor nods and then barks his acceptance.
“And do you, Adaluna, accept Baelor as your mate?”
She howls.
Isolde nods. “Then, mark each other as such.” Her hands outstretch as if magic is needed for the next part.
Silence stretches once again, and Baelor looks Adaluna in the eye.
I hold my breath, not sure what’s about to happen. But I hope it changes everything. I hope the curse is about to be broken.
Suddenly, Baelor sinks his teeth into Adaluna’s neck.
The howl that leaves her body is like none I’ve ever heard. It’s the sound of agony spreading through her body, not joy at finding her other half.
“No,” I whisper.
There are cries all around me. Howls, growls, and chaos as the pain reaches every one of us present, witnessing the scene unfold but unable to do anything to stop it.
Baelor’s eyes widen, but it doesn’t seem even he can stop. His teeth are sunk into her fur, unrelenting. Together, they sink to the ground until the life leaves Adaluna’s eyes, and her body flops the remaining inches to the ground.
Baelor stands over her limp body. My hands fly to my mouth, holding back a cry. He howls—long and loud through the silence of the night. The howl is prolonged until his voice trembles.
The other alphas echo him before the entirety of the packs sitting on the hillside join in.
Baelor doesn’t drop dead, and no one seems to expect him to. It must only be the females risking their lives in this ceremony.
Isolde waves her hand, and the howls instantly stop, even from the alphas circling her. Emeric and another man break through the circle and lift Adaluna’s wolf body, carrying her to an altar near the woods.
I swallow hard when I notice two other altars, as if they are expecting more deaths tonight. “Alphas, return to your positions. Stormburst is next,” Isolde orders with an unrelenting voice composed of zero compassion for the death that just happened.
My breath is hard and swift. Everything happened so fast. Isolde is trying to pretend like we didn’t all witness a woman die right in front of our eyes simply because she thought an alpha was her mate.
But the alphas obey, shifting back into their human forms, now naked. Even Baelor returns to his place in the circle. His puffy eyes are the only sign of the pain he just endured.
I can’t keep the tears from streaking my cheeks, mourning this young life, this woman. Even though I never knew her, the theft of the beautiful love she could have shared with the alpha is a crime.
I look up and see Rowena on the edge of the forest, staring at me with intensity in her wolf form. All you have to do is say none of them are your mate; that’s how you survive. Her words from earlier repeat in my head before new words seem to be sent my way.
Survive, don’t try to break the curse. Live.
I nod through my tears. When it’s my turn, I will have no chance of breaking the curse. I can’t even shift. I would never survive being marked like that. I just hope I’m not killed for being considered a traitor to our kind when they realize I’m from the Wintermoon pack. My pack is the reason the curse exists, the reason the offering is required, the reason Adaluna is dead.