Reverence
Kieran POV
The atmosphere in the council chamber was entirely unrecognizable from the tension of just a few hours ago.
I sat at the head of the massive table, my fingers resting lightly against the dark, matte grain of the wood.
My wolf was finally calm, anchored by rhythmic pulse of Aurora’s heartbeat echoing down our mate bond.
She was safe, currently in a deep sleep in our private quarters.
The healers had rushed in the exact moment I carried her through the doors to examine her.
Aurora had not shifted back into her human form.
She had curled into the heavy furs of our bed with a tired huff.
The healers had checked her from head to toe, but they had ultimately stepped back in sheer awe.
Her magic had already taken care of the majority of the damage.
All she needed now was proper rest to let her natural healing handle the rest.
Before reconvening the council, Silas and I had briefly intercepted my inner circle in our wing of the castle.
I had to break the news to Mara and the rest of my sub-pack that the grand welcome party they had been so enthusiastically planning for Aurora would have to be delayed.
Mara had been absolutely livid. When she heard Aurora had taken a direct hit from a dragon’s tail, her protective instincts flared so violently that Eilan had to try to physically hold her back from marching out into the eastern forest to mutilate the dragon corpses herself.
Now, back in the council chamber, the reality of what we had just fought was settling heavily over everyone.
I looked down the length of the table. Thirty Council Members sat in attendance again, each with their pack’s trusted Beta standing rigidly at their backs. The unified silence was thick with adrenaline.
And then there was Elder Thorne.
The old traditionalist sat at the far end of the table, looking like a hollowed-out shell of the man who had slammed his fist down and almost demanded my mate basically should bow to him.
Thorne was completely silent now. His deeply lined face was pale, his shoulders hunched, and his eyes were glued securely to the dark grain of the obsidian wood.
He was actively avoiding all eye contact, desperately hoping to fade into the stonework of the floor.
He had called my mate a fragile imposter, a feral stray playing dress-up.
She had just fought two Corrupted Dragons and saved hundreds of lives by putting herself in harm’s way. Thorne’s traditionalist faction was effectively dead and buried in the ash of the eastern forest.
Alpha Garrick cleared his throat, the deep, gravelly sound cutting through the quiet and drawing the attention of every wolf in the room. He leaned his forearms heavily on the table, his face a canvas of absolute, unfiltered reverence.
“My King,” Garrick began, his voice dipping into a low, respectful rumble. “How is our Luna faring?”
A wave of subtle, unified movement rippled around the table as almost every single wolf leaned in slightly, their scents spiking with genuine, protective concern.
“She is resting,” I answered, letting the heavy, undeniable pride bleed freely into my voice. “The healers have cleared her. To their surprise, she has chosen to remain in her wolf form to recover, but her magic healed the worst of the damage. She will be fully healed with proper rest.”
A collective, audible exhale of relief swept through the chamber.
“Praise the Goddess,” Alpha Kaelen muttered from my left, shaking his blond head as his Beta nodded fervently behind him. “I have fought in every border war of the last decade, and I have never seen anything like her. She was incredible.”
“She saved my Beta’s life,” Alpha Lukan interrupted, his voice thick with emotion as he looked down the table.
At twenty-three, he was both the youngest and newest Alpha in Valdora.
Behind him, the young Beta, the same wolf who had pledged his life to Aurora in the dirt, stood tall, though he visibly favored his uninjured side.
“She didn’t hesitate. She threw herself into the attack for a wolf she met less than an hour prior. She bled for Valdora today.”
I locked my gaze onto the council, my Alpha aura rolling out to blanket the room in heavy, absolute authority.
“My mate is anything but a fragile stray,” I rumbled, my gaze cutting to the corner where Thorne visibly flinched, before I swept my eyes over the rest of the exhausted, reverent faces at the table.
“She is the Princess of The Argent Kingdom. She is my fated mate, and she is the undeniable Queen of this kingdom.”
I leaned back in my throne, the lingering adrenaline of the battlefield giving way to a profound, humbling truth.
“Earlier today, some in this room demanded proof of her worthiness to stand beside me,” I said, my voice dropping into a quiet, unwavering register. “But after fighting beside her out there yet again... the truth is, I am the one wondering if I am worthy to stand beside her.”
A few of the more experienced Alphas, including Garrick and Kaelen, nodded slowly. The look in their eyes mirrored the exact awe I felt.
“She owes us absolutely nothing,” I continued, the raw emotion bleeding freely into my words.
“She has spent the last eight years surviving. Yet, without a second’s hesitation, she risked her life, drained her mana, and threw herself into harm’s way to protect our civilians and a Beta she had never even spoken to.”
I rested my forearms on the dark obsidian wood, looking out at the silent lords of my realm. “I do not need her to prove her right to this throne or to stand beside me. If anything, I owe her a staggering debt, and so do all of you.”
The quiet that fell over the room wasn’t just silence; it was acceptance. A heavy, reverent weight settled over the table, silently weaving Aurora’s place as Luna Queen into the very fabric of the council.
Finally, the deep, resonant voice of Alpha Garrick broke the stillness.
“Then we really should make it official, if she will have us,” the Ironwood Alpha said, his dark, experienced eyes meeting mine. “She has bled for us, and she carries your mark, but she remains locked out of the royal Pack Link. We must plan her Luna ceremony as soon as possible.”
A murmur of agreement rippled down the length of the table. To fully tether a Luna to a King’s massive territory, the ancient rites had to be strictly observed.
“The ceremony must be held under the light of a full moon,” Kaelen reminded us, crossing his arms over his chest.
He cast a concerned glance in my direction.
“The next cycle peaks the day after tomorrow. Given her injuries, that might be too soon. We also face a logistical issue… The Alphas of the Stonejaw, Sunforge, and Ashenvale packs are not present currently.”
Kaelen gestured toward the far end of the table.
“Elders Gideon, Baelen, and Thorne are here to represent them, but that is not enough for the ritual. To unlock the full Pack Link, the Luna must drink the ceremonial wine infused with the blood of the King and every Pack Alpha. If they do not arrive in time,
we might have to postpone until the following full moon.”
“The King has already made a mockery of our sacred traditions,” a bitter, arrogant voice sneered.
Every head turned. Elder Thorne leaned back in his chair, his chin tipped up with supreme, haughty confidence.
“Our ancient traditions clearly state that the Luna ceremony must be performed before the mating mark is placed. Since our King has already trampled the sacred laws by marking her prematurely, what does it matter if we perform a butchered, incomplete ritual?”
Thorne glanced to his left and right, expecting solidarity. “Isn’t that right, Gideon? Baelen?”
Elder Gideon scowled, shifting away from him. “Do not speak as if I agree with your outdated point of view, Thorne...”
“Agreed,” Elder Baelen muttered, crossing his arms. “I will not disrespect her courage.”
Thorne’s smug expression faltered. Before he could recover and before I could unleash the warning snarl building in my chest, a chair violently scraped against the stone floor.
“With all due respect, Elder Thorne,” Lukan snapped, his voice ringing with a sharp, furious edge. He planted his hands on the table, glaring directly at the older man. “Shut your damn mouth, and screw your traditions.”
Thorne’s jaw dropped in shock at the blatant disrespect. “You insolent..!”
“Stop Elder, you need to listen now.” Lukan interrupted.
The youth was entirely stripped from his eyes, replaced by the cold, hard reality of the battlefield.
“While you were sitting comfortably behind these thick stone walls, warming that chair and waiting for us to return, she was out there putting her life on the line. I saw her throw herself into the path of a dragon’s tail to save a Beta she didn’t even know.
She is more of a Valdoran than you have been in decades!”
A low, collective growl of agreement vibrated through the chamber.
Torrance, Garrick, and half a dozen other Pack Alphas turned their hardened, blood-soaked glares entirely onto Thorne.
The sheer, oppressive weight of their unified hostility hit the old man like a physical blow.
Thorne swallowed hard, the last remnants of his political defiance crumbling to ash as he shrank back into his chair, completely silenced.
Alpha Torrance leaned back, the thick scars on his face twisting as he let out a dark, dismissive huff.
“Alpha Lukan is right,” the Bloodmoon Alpha rumbled, shooting an approving nod toward Lukan.
“If a tradition tells us to disrespect our Luna, then it’s time to throw the old traditions out the window anyway. We will do the ceremony the day after tomorrow, if our Luna feels she is ready and is willing to go through with it. We’ll make sure the missing Alphas get here in time.”
“Alright, the ceremony will be held the day after tomorrow, at the peak of the full moon,” I stated, my voice echoing with finality.
“I will contact the Alphas of Stonejaw, Sunforge, and Ashenvale immediately to ensure their arrival. Once confirmed, I will announce the ceremony to the entire kingdom through the royal Pack Link.”
I stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “Begin the preparations. Consult your own Lunas for the necessary arrangements, they know what to do. Make sure everything is ready. Spare no expenses.”