Chapter 17 - Sera
After regaining my footing by the beach with Eve, we return to the main celebration, and while I feel eyes on me, they’re not quite as intense as before, with the others distracted.
We eat, listen to a few speeches from the elders, and Luke thanks everyone for coming, and by the time twilight breaks, the sea-knot rite begins by the water. A few other pack members linger nearby, watching it all unfold.
After steering me toward a crescent-shaped driftwood log nestled on the beach, Eve sits next to me, handing me the necessary cord and materials to get started. The ocean sounds quieter here as the water laps against the shore and nearby rocks, and a few torches staked in the sand light the space.
Elder Jonah sits on another log while the torchlight catches in his white hair, and his wrinkled face is solemn when we begin, but not unkind. A few other elders sit by him while a group of children gathers around, all at differing ages.
It catches me off guard to see them overlooking the process, as I assumed the young women and girls would be left alone for this part, but, in a way, it feels like a bridge between the two stages of life.
“This is the part we don’t let boys our age ruin,” Eve whispers with a knowing grin as she puts her own cord together in preparation.
Despite my hesitance surrounding all of this, my lips pull anyway.
I catch as Jonah’s eyes slide over to me, and instinctively, I brace myself for disapproval. Instead, he gives me a single nod, and while it isn’t exactly warm, it isn’t cold either.
When Elder Jonah and a few of the others gesture for the young ones to join, they sit in the sand. A little girl beams up at me when she sits nearby, looking at me like I belong here.
It’s disorienting at first, but as a few more kids look at me, sitting tall and proud, the realization hits me hard. To them, they don’t know who or what I am. To them, I’m their Luna. They don’t know the nuances that keep the rest of the pack from accepting me completely.
Softening slightly at the thought, I give them a gentle wave, and the girls giggle before turning back to the elders.
“Tonight, we braid for the Salt Mother’s favor…for her wisdom and guidance,” Jonah begins, voice old but still strong enough to carry. “Here with the waves around us, the young learn from the old, and the old reflect on when they were young.”
A few of the younger kids groan softly at the reminder, as if they’ve heard the words enough times over. However, Jonah allows a faintly amused smile to settle on his lips anyway.
One of the elder women continues, holding up a finished braid of her own.
“The youngest of us braid for protection, steady growth, and prosperity of our pack…those old enough to shift ask the Salt Mother for strength, courage, and luck in finding one’s true mate.
Those already mated may ask for her watchful eye to guard and build on those sacred bonds.
Take your three cords, blue, brown, and white to signify sea, land, and sky, and weave them with intention. ”
As she speaks, the group around me begins braiding, doing so carefully. I glance at Eve and study how she does it before beginning my own.
“Think about what you want to call in this upcoming season. No thought is too big or too small,” she continues, fingers running down her finished braid. “For each wish you have, weave in a shell or bead and focus on your intent.”
My fingers curl around the cords, moving them and reaching for a shell. At first, my mind goes blank as I try to think of a wish, not knowing what I want. Immediately, it feels like added pressure to my chest just trying to come up with something.
In my old pack, traditions were more rigid than this, and most didn’t allow for this much freedom in thought. And with Wraith Peak, there was none of this at all.
Swallowing hard, I urge myself to relax. Between the elders and the children, I have no reason to feel so on edge, or to be so lost in the details. From what I can tell, this isn’t obligatory or something the kids are eager to finish and put behind them. Instead, it’s…fun. Warmer than I expected.
“Over, then under, and repeat. Tighten when you cross over,” Jonah murmurs to a young boy as he guides him through it with surprising patience. “Take your time…the cord remembers the tension.”
Those words settle in as I focus on mine for a while, crossing the cords over before pausing to weave in a shell. I let my mind linger on what I want, and my thoughts drift to not just Luke, but to the pack as a whole.
Even if there’s still a knot in my chest when I think about everything that led me here, and how true acceptance feels out of reach, for a moment, I allow myself to wish for exactly that.
Maybe I shouldn’t be slipping into the idea of being here long-term, and maybe I shouldn’t be surrendering to it so easily, but I am mated. This bond I share with Luke, regardless of how infuriating it can be, isn’t something I can run from.
And despite myself, I don’t want to run forever.
The rhythm becomes steady and almost meditative while Eve talks idly to me about this and that, and before I know it, I’m part of the moment.
“Can you help me?” one of the little girls asks me with a slight pout, holding up her partially braided cord, a shell not quite woven in properly. “I can’t get it.”
Offering her a small smile, I nod and carefully take the cords from her. Without hesitation, she comes closer and plops herself into my lap, watching as I start. The lack of fear from her sends a bolt of warmth through me.
“You want to make sure you cross the cord over this way, holding the shell in place,” I tell her, moving my fingers slowly so that she can see. The girl watches with rapt attention, eyes tracking every movement. “See?”
She smiles and nods, continuing the braid while I hold the opposite end for her. Once she’s ready for another shell, she adds it the way I showed her, glancing up. “Like this?”
I nod and grin. “Exactly like that.”
Looking beyond pleased with herself, she keeps going, eventually nattering on about something I don’t have the full context of.
For a moment, I forget that I’m the outsider here.
The witch everyone else is wary of. Instead, they allow me to simply be a woman sitting in the sand with the children and elders, participating in something profoundly symbolic.
It’s something I’ve never done before, yet they’ve welcomed me into it anyway.
Something about that makes my heart ache.
It’s hard to ignore how much I actually want this…the belonging and quiet acceptance. In a way, it feels like a betrayal to the defenses I’ve built, and to the part of me that knows I shouldn’t be lulled into thinking I’m safe.
But resistance is draining, and I’m tired.
I catch as Jonah’s attention turns to me and the little one, and there’s something more lighthearted in his gaze now. “It’s nice to see you here, Sera.”
The claim catches me off guard, and initially, I want to assume he doesn’t mean it, but the sincerity in his voice says otherwise.
He seems to catch on to my surprise, and he hums. “Traditions are strongest when they are shared.”
Even if it isn’t an apology or full acceptance, it feels like the start of something more positive.
***
When more darkness surrounds us and the shared laughter and joy start to ebb, a few of the sleepy young ones are collected, and some of the older kids head back to the main fire or head home with their parents. Our group is smaller now, with a handful of elders and kids remaining, along with Eve.
The torches burn lower now, then, without warning, the air shifts, and I feel it before I understand it.
Jonah goes still at the same time I do, and he glances toward the tree line.
A scent reaches us through the wind, but it’s all wrong. It’s sharp and cold, and one I’m far too familiar with.
Wraith Peak.
Before the thought fully forms, I’m on my feet, and I feel Eve’s hand around my wrist.
Five figures step out together, slipping from the darkness like shadows taking on tangible forms. Two are shifted while the other three remain in their human shapes, all big and menacing with their predatory gazes.
The children still, when they realize, and the elders rise to shield them.
“Why are you here?” Jonah calls to them, slowly standing to his full height.
One of the men I don’t recognize grins, but it’s more like baring his teeth. “You know what we want.”
My stomach drops as every piece falls into place in my mind. They’re not here for a fight or to challenge anyone. With only the elders and a few young ones around, the rest are too far, and some are even gone home for the night as the festivities have started to dwindle.
They’re cornering us on purpose. At least, they’re trying to corner me.
“Stay behind us,” one of the elders murmurs, though despite their calm tone, the kids fill with fear at once.
Looking between the pack members and the Wraith Peak wolves as they start to spread out, aiming to circle us, my heart pounds.
Their eyes are set on me, but even if I’m the target, nothing is stopping them from taking one of the children or harming the elders. I can’t let that happen.
One of the kids breaks away in tears, heading for the path back to the clearing, slipping just out of Eve’s reach. At the same time, one of the shifted wolves lunges at them with a snarl.
Immediately, magic pulses inside me, surging fast and instinctively. Without time to shape it carefully like I usually do, I send the energy out, reaching into the sand and stone beneath it, and I yank.
As the wolf snarls, the sand shoots upward, sending it soaring backward with a yelp before colliding with the ground. It scrambles, claws trying to find traction in the unstable earth beneath it.
The others tense, bracing themselves as they watch, fear spiking in response.
Another wolf shifts in response, snapping its jaws before approaching and barreling toward Jonah.