44
The universe revolves around the sun, and so must werewolves. The Ascension Rite begins at dawn.
I am already awake when Oona bursts into my room before sunrise.
I dress in the dark, anxious, my stomach roiling. If Oona can sense my unease—if she noticed anything wrong with me before Calix and I disappeared from the ball—she doesn’t ask. She hardly speaks. Her hands shake with nerves as she laces up my stark ivory bodice.
All white today, as per tradition.
She weaves a purple rose into my hair, but otherwise leaves my waves untended. “There,” she says when she finishes. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’m walking toward my death,” I answer honestly, my heart panging. At least I can still trust Oona. If nothing else, I have her.
She licks her thumb and wipes a stain of Calix’s blood from my cheek. “Nonsense. Today, you will join the future of this court. I’ve seen the prince. He’s very taken by you.”
He loves me , I think. He said he loves me, but all I feel in return is hollow and afraid.
Love isn’t enough, sometimes, to repair the holes inside us. It’s not enough right now.
“I think you’re a vision,” Oona says. “A fine girl with a strong pair of purple eyes. When it’s your turn, remember, you will drink the blood of the queen, and the sun shall reach into your heart and wrench your truest form from within,” she says.
“From that moment forward, you will belong to the pack. Your pack. I am—so proud of you, Vanessa.”
I glance at Oona—her round, freckled face and orange hair.
She’s never lied to me. She’s always been here.
Without considering the action further, I throw my arms around her and drag her in for a hug.
Tears leak from my eyes onto her maid’s uniform, but she doesn’t mention them. She runs her hands over my hair.
“It’s a big day,” she says. “It’s fine if you are nervous, but I’ll be there to watch you. The queen… She’s allowed me to attend.”
Oona sounds pleased at that, but she doesn’t know—she doesn’t know that Queen Sybil still uses her as a threat against me.
Oona’s attendance is simply to ensure that I will remain at Castle Severi.
As if I have another choice. Sin will pick me.
After all his confessions last night, I’m sure of it.
And I haven’t decided how I feel about that yet.
I don’t want to face him this soon. Him, or Calix.
But the Ascension is in less than hour, so I must.
Oona returns to cleaning my room, picking up spools of ribbon, brushes, and combs, before fixing my bed. She’s so busy that she doesn’t notice me deflate. I sag against the door. My head throbs. It hasn’t stopped throbbing since last night.
Calix killed Celeste. Sinclair bit me.
Nothing can ever be the same again.
My future with Sinclair was uncertain before, but now it’s the fog over dewy moors. Intangible. Cold. A phantom more than anything else.
“I will be here for you every step of the way,” Oona says, returning to my side. She squeezes my hand. “I promise.”
“Thank you, Oona. For everything.”
“You are the sister I’ve never had.” Oona kisses me on my cheek before opening my door, and it’s that gesture that manages to wrest me from my room and out into the forest where my peers and the most powerful werewolves in the world await.
I’m the last outside.
In the fathomless blue of dawn, the massive, muscular frames of werewolves blur together.
Queens and dukes and countesses gather between the oaks and pines of last night, the mossy carpet of the dance floor now blanketed with red and black roses.
It looks like a blood spill. Like decay.
Oona sandwiches herself between Lord Allard and Instructor Shepherd, and for a brief moment, I even feel a glimmer of happiness.
Instructor Shepherd moves closer to her than necessary, his cheeks flushed again.
I wonder what happened between them last night.
I’ll have to ask her about it later—because there will be a later.
I will never leave this castle.
I swallow hard, shuffling my feet even as I wait in a straight line of my peers.
Evie is the only one beside me, Sin and Calix at the other end, thankfully.
I don’t need to see them. Not now. Just get through it , I tell myself.
Worry about the rest after. If I scream or lash out, someone here will kill me. I have to remain collected.
Lanterns sway from boughs, glowing with scarlet flames, and the sky overhead cracks open with slender rays of golden light. It looks as if the world is on fire.
Lyra steps out from the pack of werewolves first, her blue eyes fixed firmly on my face as a sheath of gauzy white billows around her body. “It is time,” she says, raising her hands to the sky. As though she conjured it, rain drizzles onto us in a soft but freezing melody.
A sprinkle of ice during the first morning of winter solstice.
I slide my feet in the grass. In the mud. Beyond the minor preparations that Oona has helped me with, I’m unsure what to expect, and I find that I no longer care. I just want to get it over with. I want to move on.
Queen Sybil prowls out next and takes her position beside Lyra. A large diadem sits on the queen’s head, obsidian as her soul. She smiles at us, and though it’s meant to be a warm and adoring gesture, it raises the hair on my flesh.
At the heart of it, this is her fault.
I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I’m not even certain what she did to the dungeon—but it has to be her fault.
“Welcome to the Ascension Rite,” she announces.
“It is my honor to host this generation as you ascend to your rightful places in our courts and packs. Since your First Rite, we—as your parents, your rulers, and your court—have witnessed you grow from pups into leaders. You have learned. You have fought. You have protected this court before even yourselves. This morning, you shall be rewarded for your service. The universe long ago granted you gifts, and now it is time to reap the rewards of the sun.”
On cue, gold flickers across the sky.
Lyra hums, and that hum weaves into a song soon joined by wild drumming.
Her lilting voice carries through the sunrise, ethereal and heaven-sent as the onlookers begin to sway.
Rain soaks through their black clothes. Soaks through our white clothes.
I look to my right. Evie shoots me a nervous glance, biting her lip as her gaze darts to the doors of the castle.
I suppose I’m not the only one anxious about today.
When Lyra’s song finishes, the werewolves still. She blinks her pretty blue eyes and curtsies to the Wolf Queen of the North American Court, who speaks once more.
“Those accepted by the sun will be welcomed into the Seven Courts and forevermore bound to our laws and ways of life. If you should agree, please step forward when you are called and drink.” Queen Sybil retrieves a gilded chalice from the folds of her ruffled black gown, and she holds it beneath her neck as she drags a claw across her throat, slitting it with a shallow slice that pours blood into the cup.
I glance away quickly. The smell permeates, disguising the magical, rich scent of sweetened earth with gore. I hate it here. I hate it, but there’s no way out. So I stand up straight and wait for the moment when my future permanently belongs to this castle.
Unless , a little voice hisses in my mind, Sinclair doesn’t want you anymore .
But even as I think it, I realize how ridiculous that is. Last night, he told me he loved me. He wouldn’t revoke that now.
“Sinclair Severi, first of his name, Born to the Wolf Queen of the North American Court and blessed beneath a Scorpio sun and Aquarius moon, beneath the Capricornus stars, as a Dreamweaver, would you step forward and accept your place as the future of this court beneath the sun of a new winter’s morn? ”
I tilt my head.
Something about that… is strange. Scorpio sun, Aquarius moon, Capricornus stars.
Dreamweaver.
But Sin is a Bargainer. Like his mother, he’d said.
I blink rapidly, and Evie’s gaze flicks back to the castle’s entrance.
The droplets of rain impale my skin like icicles.
I shiver. My belly tightens as if in anticipation.
But around us, all seems well. Sin walks up to his mother and accepts the chalice.
He takes a small sip, licking his lips before swallowing.
“I do accept my place,” he declares.
For moments, nothing happens. I wait for the sun to rip from the sky, for the world to implode and grow anew.
But nothing. And then—he drops to his knees.
His heart floods with light, shining bright through the white of his shirt.
He claws at his chest, a guttural scream freeing from him as that light pulses.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The shadow of Sinclair’s wolf emerges. Bursts forth as a spectral gray beast with haunting red eyes before evaporating with the rain.
“Alpha,” his mother says proudly. “The sun has pronounced you Alpha. Rise, and fulfill your potential, Sinclair Severi. It is time to declare your intentions.”
Sin looses a ragged breath before stumbling to his feet.
Still holding his chest, his shirt torn in places where his claws scratched too deep, he rasps, “I accept my position as a Dreamweaver Alpha in the Wolf Queen’s Court of the North American continent and will forever abide by our laws and way of life. ”
Dreamweaver.
I chew on my lip, desperate to ignore the burgeoning flames in my gut. Something is wrong.
The only way to rouse from a dream is to notice everything wrong within it.
I glance around, but everything appears normal.
An enchanted forest filled with werewolves as the boy I love—the golden prince—is crowned with a diadem of magically woven sunlight.
The werewolf crowd cheers, a louder celebration than even the ball, and my chest aches because I should be celebrating too.
But… I can’t shake the feeling burning through me.
It feels like a lie. It all feels like a lie.
Evie’s gaze fixates on the castle now, her attention sharpened to a fine point.
I follow it. However, Castle Severi remains massive, intimidating, morning light slowly drenching its adamantine walls and explosions of ivy and flora.
It’s fine , I tell myself. That too feels like a lie.
Queen Sybil nods to her son and continues the rite.
“Please choose the leaders of your future pack, Prince Sinclair Severi. Remember, they will become your closest allies and dearest friends. Together, your strength will bloom as one. You will remain eternal as brethren. As the Wolf King’s pack when my own reign has ended. ”
“I shall.” Sinclair turns to the rest of us, and his eyes soften as they land on mine. I’m sorry , he mouths.
And I know what’s coming before it happens.
“First,” Lyra announces, “you must declare your mate—the most cherished member of your pack—before the formal mating ritual on the spring equinox. Prince Sinclair Severi, please choose wisely the fate of this kingdom.”
My stomach drops, and even though I’m angry at him—even though I might hate him—I feel sick. I can’t watch.
Sin is seconds away from being engaged to Evelyn Lee.
Oh god. It’s going to hurt.
I love you, Vanessa.
Why did he have to say it? Why did he have to bite me? Why did he have to lie? The questions pummel me, one after the other, like blows to my chest. I refuse to watch. I refuse to breathe. I just want it to end. I want the Ascension Rite to be over—
“Vanessa Hart,” Sin says, “first of her name, Bitten not Born, blessed beneath a Virgo sun and Scorpio moon, beneath the Orion stars, as a Truthseer, would you please step forward?”
Wh-what?
All eyes turn to me.
No. I couldn’t have heard him right. He just said…
he just said my name instead of Evie’s. What is he doing?
Why… why? Sin meets my gaze now, unflinching.
He repeats himself amidst the ripple of confusion that sweeps the crowd.
The shock. At the front, the Lees go unnaturally still.
And—and he’s inciting a war . A low growl reverberates from Queen Jae in warning, but Sin doesn’t seem to care.
I gaze at him with wide eyes, my hands limp at my sides, the rest of my thoughts lost to the wind.
Sin. He stares back at me, and hope brightens that beautiful burgundy gaze.
I blink. And blink. And blink.
He doesn’t care.
“What the hell are you doing, Sinclair?” Eric asks quietly—menacingly. He takes a step forward. “Consider your decision here, or it will be your head—your entire court—as payment.”
Queen Jae’s fangs lengthen in response, and that low growl—it heightens to a snarl. Her soldiers echo it behind her, and King Zhiyu glares directly at… at me . My chest constricts. It can’t be me.
“We are in the process of the rite,” Lyra interrupts, and her soft voice draws the attention of every single wolf. She speaks for the stars. They can’t ignore her. “What has begun cannot be undone. The Ascension must continue.” The growls intensify. “Vanessa Hart, step forward.”
Limbs numb, I do as she says, though I hardly feel as if I’m moving at all. Queen Sybil smiles at the Lees, cold and cruel, and I spy Oona behind her. Oona, who is the only one in the crowd flushing pink without a claw in sight. She waves tentative fingers at me in encouragement.
I’ll do anything to protect her. Just as Sin did for me.
“It’ll be okay.” Drawing me against him with an arm around my waist, he whispers the words against my hair. “Just stay by my side.”
He grins then, and the sight of it stops my heart. It’s so pure. So him . His thumb caresses my hip. I hear his words from last night as if they’re the only thought left in my mind.
I would do anything to protect you. You are the other half of my soul.
“I’m sorry,” he says at my ear. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” A pause. A horrible, cruel beat. His gaze flashes, and his voice deepens further into compulsion. “Just don’t fight .”
That’s when the screaming starts.