Chapter 5 - Sera
I have never hated someone so quickly or intensely before, but somehow, Luke has managed to secure first place for himself in only a matter of hours.
It’s an overwhelming feeling to carry around. It’s heavy and insistent, constantly burning within my chest every time I think of his face. He looked so decisive before, while he condemned me to the last thing I need.
He’s expecting us to get married—mated, in a proper ceremony.
The words came out so easily, as if he had already been planning it, but I know better than that. It’s a spontaneous plan, and one made without my input or consent.
Just like before, I’m being pushed into something I don’t want, in a place I have no intention of staying.
I know how packs like these work. Even if the fact that I’m a witch didn’t seem to alarm him, I know the rest of his wolves won’t take that information lightly. Magic is forbidden, and now he’s going to use me for whatever he has planned.
After resting, my magic has started pulsing faintly under my skin again, reacting to my anger and to how everything has unfolded. Though I keep it buried as far as I can force it to be. If it gets out of hand, I’ll only be proving everyone right.
As much as I don’t want to believe it, or further the narrative, someone like me does need protection here. I’d rather not be forced into anything by him, but the thought of being prosecuted by the rest of the pack for losing control isn’t a nice one, either.
I don’t need him…I don’t want to need him. I just need to get on the ferry and as far away from Willow Island as possible.
But the next morning comes too quickly, and I didn’t manage to come up with an escape plan during the night. I hardly even slept through the night after being too stuck on Luke’s claims.
I barely manage to get much down for breakfast, only suffering through it to keep my stomach from aching. But it does anyway as I stand behind the front door, left all alone in the house.
From here, I watch as the others move about, getting things prepared. That’s where Luke has been all morning, leaving me to sit and stew in all of this.
And now, I’m staring at the doorknob, wondering how far I might manage to get away if I break into a sprint in the opposite direction.
Would it be idiotic of me to run from a pack of wolves capable of shifting, unlike myself, and their Alpha? Definitely.
Yet, the thought of being tied to anyone I don’t know so intimately has panic consuming me from the inside out.
He doesn’t know me, and I don’t know him. He’s the Alpha of a pack that will want nothing to do with me or what I am. I have another Alpha trying to use me for his benefit, and yet, I’m supposed to just go along with everything.
Before I can stop myself, I turn the doorknob and step onto the porch.
The breeze is warm and fresh, but it does little to calm me down. Instead, anticipation buzzes through me as I stand there, prepared to run but not knowing how this might end for me, or if I’ll make it far at all.
My hands shake subtly as I take a step forward, drawing closer to the top of the stairs.
“Hi!”
I freeze at the soft-sounding voice the moment it reaches me, and with a glance, I see a young woman standing nearby. Caught now, I stumble over my thoughts at the sight of her.
“I’m Evelyn, but you can call me Eve,” she says, dirty-blonde hair tied back in a loose braid as she steps onto the porch with a smile and a warm gleam in her blue-green eyes. “I’m Luke’s sister.”
Luke’s sister. Of course.
“Uh, hi,” I murmur lamely, taking a small step back to give her some room as she joins me on the porch. “I’m Sera.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says, taking me in with open curiosity rather than suspicion. She gestures to the big makeup bag under her arm and to a garment bag. “I’m here to help you get ready.”
I feel as the color drains from my face. “Ready?”
“For the ceremony,” Eve explains, expression softening fractionally, obviously picking up on my discomfort. “I have everything you need.”
Hearing someone else acknowledge the ridiculous idea only makes it burn worse. “I’m not participating.”
She tilts her head fractionally, and the way she studies me feels startlingly kind. “I imagine this isn’t what you want, but Luke isn’t trying to hurt you.”
“It sort of felt like he was when he threatened to send me back.”
Her expression falls a bit, turning more empathetic. “He’s been under a lot of pressure lately, being a new Alpha and all. He’s trying to make sense of everything, too. Trust is a lot to ask for, but I’m hoping you can lend us just a little for now.”
The sincerity and kindness in her tone throw me. The way she looks at me is disarming, even when I’m trying not to get myself in too deep here.
After enduring a beat of silence, Eve takes a small, cautious step closer. “It’s tradition. The ceremony happens by the water, in a sacred place. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
I can already tell she means it, but I stiffen just a touch. “It’s not my tradition.”
“I know,” she says gently, almost looking like she wishes she could take the discomfort away. It’s almost confusing how easily she offers that kindness to me. She doesn’t even know me.
Before I can say anything, I catch what sounds like bickering nearby, and I glance out to see Luke standing a short distance from the house with an older man. His tone is sharp, yet more restrained than the other’s. Given how similar they look, I assume that must be his father.
I strain to hear them at first, but the tension is heavy even from here.
“…It’s too soon,” his dad says, eyes surprisingly intense. “You’re pushing them too much.”
Even if there’s a subtle hesitation in the way Luke looks at him, almost like he’s warring between being a son and a leader, he stands his ground. “I don’t have the luxury of waiting.”
“Either way, it’s reckless. Stupid, too.”
Luke’s jaw clenches. “It’s necessary.”
“You’re binding yourself to a woman you don’t even know. To instability.”
That word strikes me harder than it should, given how I don’t have any reason to be invested in these people or what they think of me, but it burns anyway. I go perfectly still, hating how it feels to be talked about like this.
I glance over when I feel Eve’s hand on my arm, glancing between me and the obvious disagreement happening.
“Come on,” she says quietly, already guiding me away with a small, encouraging smile that just barely falters at the edges, as if she can sense what all of this is doing to me.
My pulse roars in my ears, but I can’t bring myself to argue or to listen to their harsh exchange.
Before long, I’m brought back to the spare room and guided to the bed where Eve spreads out her tools and makeup, draping the bag over the foot of the bed.
Unable to argue, I’m helped into the dress made up of an off-white silk decorated with strands of varying shades of blue and green.
Small, encrusted gems catch in the light whenever I move.
The dipped neckline and soft, gauzy sleeves make it more beautiful than I care to admit, reminiscent of something a sea goddess might wear. But I can’t pretend like this is all for a good cause, or that any of this should be for me.
“The dress is meant to mirror the tide,” Eve says quietly while she gently begins with my makeup. “Each one is a replica of the one before it, all following a similar pattern. It was designed to represent strength and surrender, and to flow like water. That’s what the elders always say, anyway.”
I almost want to laugh at how ironic it is.
“Surrender,” I murmur more to myself than anything, but she doesn’t let it get to her.
“We bond at the cove where our ancestors first performed their ceremonies. Both the sea and pack serve as witnesses,” she explains, speaking with at least a touch of reverence. “That’s how it has always been.”
I dwell on the word ‘witness’ for a little too long, allowing that fact to twist inside me. They will all be watching, and there’s nothing I can do about it. The dissolving of my wants and needs will be seen by the entire pack, as if it wasn’t humiliating enough.
Eve looks me over for a moment, noticing the hard swallow I take. She says lightly, “You can hate him—I probably would too if I were you. But I hope you know he isn’t a monster.”
In some ways, it feels like he is, even if he has been gentler than expected.
“That doesn’t mean I’ll smile, or pretend I’m okay with any of this.”
She lightly sweeps blush across my cheek. “You don’t have to.”
“I’m not going to promise anything I don’t mean, either.”
She hesitates, and when I meet her gaze, she takes on a sheepish look. “That part…is less flexible.”
Of course it isn’t.
Eve continues her work, moving with an efficient yet unhurried pace. Eventually, she does my hair as best she can, despite its short length, working a delicate braid into the loose curls she styled.
Once she’s done, she steps back and looks me over with a pleased smile. “You look like part of the sea already.”
Something about that only makes everything feel worse.
***
The ceremony begins as Eve said. The cove is a structure carved into the bottom of the cliffs within the main territory, nestled between water and land. The salty sea air is everywhere, and despite it looking like any other seaside, it feels a little different.
Even if the shifters here don’t believe in magic, it exists here in some ancient sort of way. I feel it in the way the waves crash, like pent-up energy waiting to be released as they hit the stone and sand. It reminds me of myself, though, the current is much freer than I am.
Every pair of eyes is on us while we stand together beneath the rock formation, both curious and wary. I can feel the way they assess me, most openly skeptical.
They don’t know who I am, and I don’t know them. I appeared out of nowhere, and now, I’m being mated to their Alpha. It doesn’t make sense to them, or to me.
Luke stands next to me, barefoot, with his ceremonial shirt being tugged by the breeze. His hair is slightly disheveled, but regardless of how steady he seems, it almost makes him look younger and a bit boyish. It makes me wonder what he was like as a teen, before all of this.
There’s nothing smug or triumphant in the way he holds himself as the ceremony begins. If anything, he’s reverent and respectful, like his sister had been when describing the tradition to me, like he has fully grown into his place here. While I don’t, he belongs to the ocean.
If the situation were different, I might respect that about him. But here and now, it only makes my anger burn hotter.
With the sea at my back and the pack flanking us, it feels like everything is closing in around me at once. I’m reminded that there’s no exiting, and no fleeing.
Luke may be in his element here, but I have never felt more out of place. They can dress me up all they want, but it won’t change the fact that I’m an outsider. A drifter with nothing.
The one thing I do have rises to the surface just enough to feel protective. I let the faintest flicker of magic wash through me. It’s just enough to numb my senses and make everything feel more bearable, but not enough to cause any alarm.
It helps to blur the events unfolding around me, melding them all together as I participate with great reluctance.
“The ocean remembers what we cannot,” one of the elders says, voice carrying over the crashing of waves. “It remembers the first wolves who stood here and committed themselves to their bonds. It witnessed them, and it witnesses now.”
I barely hear him over the quick rhythm of my pulse, somewhat muted in an attempt to protect myself.
Like a veil has been placed over my eyes, I feel more like an observer as an older woman approaches, making a light cut into Luke’s palm first with a ceremonial blade.
He doesn’t even wince, but the scent of his blood is sharp and almost turns my stomach.
Then, she does the same to me, and the pain hardly registers.
“You stand before witnesses. Before pack and sea,” he continues, as Luke’s hand is pressed against mine. “Through blood and tide, you are bound. The ocean receives your offering, and in return, she provides a connection as pure as her waters.”
A thin line of our blood runs down our fingers, dripping slowly into the shallow tide around us.
Everything about this moment should be cherished. It feels so divine and earnest, yet I can’t ignore the way it feels thrust onto me. All of this is wasted on me.
Rather than like I’m willingly offering myself to him and to tradition, I just feel exposed and on display.
With our palms pressed together as the elder continues to speak, I feel heat at the contact. It would be easy to assume it comes from magic, but I know better than that. It’s something else entirely.
Every word said and repeated carries so much weight, both binding and final, and it only pushes me deeper into a position I never asked for.
For a moment, the numbness flickers as Luke’s forehead is pressed to mine while the ocean spray flies up around us, dampening our clothes and hair. The warmth of his skin almost feels like it is burning compared to the cold water.
“Breathe,” he murmurs, low enough just for me.
It’s meant to be comforting, but I don’t want his gentleness or his reassurance. I just want my autonomy, even if it was short-lived.
The tide crawls closer, flooding around our feet, almost like the ocean has claimed us, just like Luke has claimed me.
We’re bound now. Bound by a decision I did not make.
Even if something warm and ancient awakens in my chest, separate from the magic inside me, grief wraps around my heart anyway.
I survived Wraith Peak and the Voss family. I took matters into my own hands and outran Dawson’s wolves, and yet, I still ended up pulled into someone else’s plans.
The ocean’s waves almost sound satisfied in the way they continue to crash, like an encouragement for Luke and the rest of the pack.
And I loathe it.