Chapter 19 #3
The air shifts subtly around us, something unseen loosening, unraveling.
Marius bows his head, not in submission, but in gratitude.
“Stoneclaw will always be part of me,” he says. “But my loyalty lies with my daughter and the pack we now call home.”
Rowan’s breath catches behind me.
But I can’t look back at her. Not yet.
I step forward. “Marius Landry. Do you vow to serve and protect all that is sacred to the Solara pack? To defend our borders and bind your strength to ours?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “I do. From today and until my final breath.”
The words settle into the clearing like a stone dropped into still water.
A tendril of energy unfurls from my chest, invisible to the eye but unmistakable to the soul. It’s warm and bright and ancient, and moves with intention, crossing the small space between us before sinking into Marius’s sternum.
He stiffens, but not in pain.
I have no doubt that the magic now wraps around his heart, threads weaving outward through his veins, anchoring him to the pulse of Solara. I feel the exact moment the bond takes hold—the subtle shift in the pack link, the addition of another steady beat joining our rhythm.
Marius straightens instinctively, shoulders rolling back as though something inside him just clicked into place.
“I accept your vow,” I say, holding his gaze as the last of the energy settles. “Solara welcomes you.”
No embellishment.
No conditions.
“You stand no longer as a guest, but as family.” I extend my forearm.
He clasps it without hesitation.
The pack bond stretches, tentative at first, then stronger. Not as deep as Rowan’s will be. Not yet. But present and accepted.
Jocelyn wipes at her eyes discreetly, Liz squeezes her shoulder, and Iris pretends she’s inspecting her nails.
All while Archie's beady eyes remain locked on Rowan. He might be giving her space to be fully present right now, but he’s no less attached to her.
Marius steps back, and then it’s Rowan’s turn.
The clearing feels smaller suddenly, more charged.
Elias moves forward to stand just behind me as is his role when welcoming the new luna.
Rowan moves to face us, the glow of the stars catching in her dark golden hair.
“Rowan,” I say, and her name feels heavier than any title I’ve ever carried. “You came to Solara not knowing what you were stepping into.”
A faint smile touches her lips.
“You’ve sacrificed for wolves who doubted you, and you carry power that even our elders feel.” I keep my stare locked on hers. “You have already acted as luna. But after tonight, you’ll officially be recognized as such.”
Elias bends to a knee, solemn. “We bow to you, luna.”
Because of our already established bond, there’s no new tendril that I sense, but before I say my next words, I already feel the connection with Rowan thickening into something bigger than the rest of us.
“Rowan Prescott. Do you vow to serve and protect all that is sacred to the Solara pack? To defend our borders and bind your strength to ours?”
Her voice doesn’t waver. “I do.”
My voice cracks as I finish. “And will you stand beside me as we lead Solara together?”
Her eyes soften. “Always.”
The word echoes in my chest, and I step closer.
Our forearms press together, skin to skin.
The bond between us flares—brighter than before, stronger—and then something deeper threads outward.
Into the pack. Into the earth of Solara.
The connection blooms like wildfire, controlled, steady, and powerful.
Elias inhales sharply, and some of the others gasp.
Even Bram’s brows lift slightly.
Rowan’s wolf surges forward in the bond, brilliant and unmistakable.
The pack feels her now.
Not as my mate, but as their luna.
A ripple of approval moves through each connection, subtle and instinctive.
I lower my arm slowly.
“Welcome to Solara, my mate,” I say quietly.
Rowan’s grin stretches wide. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
Bram clears his throat, adjusting his stance, almost as if he’s a little uncomfortable.
“Well,” he says gruffly, “I’d say Solara just got a lot stronger.”
Iris sniffs. “Obviously.”
Liz laughs under her breath. “Is someone a little jealous?”
The other alpha’s gaze darkens. “Never.”
Jocelyn smiles through the last of her tears. “Family,” she says softly. “Just as it always should have been.”
And she’s right.
Except we’re not just bound by blood.
But by choice and loyalty and something far older than tradition.
I look at Rowan once more.
Her gaze is brighter now, and while the gold there was most prevalent before, every pack color stands distinctively again. Gold. Silver. Blue. Green. Brown. Purple. Threads of power individually layered and unafraid, not competing but harmonizing.
It’s no wonder Bram sounded nervous.
I won’t be the only one to sense the shift. The other alphas will feel it the moment they stand in her presence. The witches will notice. The vampires will watch from the shadows.
She’s more than an Ashmark, more than the luna of Solara.
If my instincts are right, Rowan is alpha.
More than any of us could ever dream to be.
And gods help anyone who ever forgets that, or decides to challenge her.