Chapter 43 THE ANCESTRAL SASH (2)
GALLAHAN'S POV
To hell with this.
I didn’t have the time nor the energy to be faking smiles and pleasantries with an old man who should really be sitting down instead of welcoming guests.
But the plethora of wonderful cusses that were on my tongue was swallowed back.
After all, I had already made an enemy out of Willa’s brother, and Willa herself was not fond of me at all. So I truly couldn’t afford to fall further from the graces of the Alfieros if I wished to see my children.
That meant I would have to work extra, extra hard to keep my temper in check, which was something easier said than done. I was well-aware of how temperamental I was.
But I would have to try.
And so I returned his greeting, lowering my head slightly as I said, “Mr. Greggory Alfiero. The pleasure is all ours. We appreciate your family’s hospitality.”
Greggory Alfiero accepted my gratitude with a humble bow and a tight-lipped smile.
“Come. Join us at the head table,” he said, beckoning for us to walk with him.
The dome was spacious as it was cavernous. Roughly a few thousand people occupied the strategically organized rows of cushioned tiered-benches, lining the curved sides of the dome and leaving a long red-carpeted walkway in the middle.
Still, despite the astounding number of people that had gathered for the Ascension Rite, the place was still ridiculously far from being cramped.
“This almost feels like a stadium,” Maliya mumbled in awe.
And she was right. Especially since the center of the dome was kept empty, apart from the gigantic golden bowl, which was brimming with the water that had been bathed in moonlight for sixty days.
Suddenly, Zuleika whispered, “Hell, we are quite a sight, aren’t we?”
I almost snorted.
Eyes were inevitably on us as we made our way to the head table on the low dais at the far end of the dome. Murmurs also buzzed annoyingly, and perhaps it was the sheer negativity spoken about me at the same time that gave me a phantom prickling sensation on my skin.
Needless to say, it was the most discomfiting thing I’ve experienced in a long while.
Still, I shrugged off the feeling valiantly. The thought of seeing my children go through the Ascension Rite was all the motivation I needed to complete the agonizingly long walk to the head table and to sit in between Wendell Alfiero and Greggory Alfiero after a round of pleasantries with the pack council members.
If it hadn’t been for my children, I would’ve bolted even before my ass could even land on a chair.
“Gallahan,” Zuleika called, looking at me with pursed lips and furrowed brows. She hadn’t taken her designated seat beside William Alfiero yet. “Where’s your sash?”
I looked down at myself and realized the lack of a sash hanging in front of my chest.
I looked up at her and shrugged. “Forgot.”
She huffed, rolled her eyes at me, and then marched over to where I was.
“Stand up.”
I obediently did so, wondering why she was suddenly making a fuss over the absence of my ancestral sash.
Wendell, Greggory, and the others at the head table, looked on with both wariness and interest.
“Is it really a big deal?” I whispered to her.
“Yes,” she said simply as she snapped her fingers to magically summon my sash.
Then, without any ado, she put on the velvety fabric over the back of my neck, letting the V-shaped ends, which proudly bore the family insignias of the Hancrofts and the Wicks, hang over my chest.
“Now, you’re perfect,” she praised, grazing a finger at the embroidered Wick family insignia.
“I am always perfect,” I replied with a smirk, taking the hint behind her intention.
It must’ve shown how I managed to get on the same page as her, because she let out a soft snort.
“Look at her reaction. I believe it’ll delight you,” she murmured before finally returning to her designated seat.
My gaze immediately darted to Willa, who was also seated at the head table as a member of the main Alfiero family.
And the look on her face nearly made me guffaw. Her eyes were glowing in deep yet vibrant viridian, and her mouth was curled in a furious sneer.
‘Not fated, huh?’ I thought with a petulant sense of triumph.