Chapter 45 CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
ALORA
The ceremonial chamber feels too large and too small at the same time. Every eye in the room is fixed on me as I stand beside Alex at the front. The elders sit in a semicircle, their expressions ranging from skeptical to hostile. Behind them, the pack has gathered—warriors, families, even the unmated males who can't seem to look away from me.
I smooth down the white silk dress Alex insisted I wear. It's beautiful, with delicate lace at the shoulders and a flowing skirt that brushes the floor. But it feels too much like a target.
"You're doing fine," Alex murmurs through our bond, his hand finding mine. The touch sends warmth through me, steadying my racing heart.
"They hate me," I send back.
"They fear you. There's a difference."
Elder Margaret stands, her expression severe. "Alpha Stone. You've called this assembly to present your mate to the pack. A blood-wolf." She says it like a curse. "Despite our objections. Despite the historical precedent. Despite the danger."
"Yes." Alex's voice carries through the chamber, strong and unwavering. "I present Alora Mitchell. My mate. My Luna. And the future of Silver Creek."
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. I catch fragments of whispers—"blood-wolf," "cursed," "madness."
"Show them," Alex says quietly, squeezing my hand. "Let them see what you really are."
I take a breath, calling to my wolf. The shift ripples through me, and I feel my bones reshape, my body transforming. When it's done, I stand on four legs, my crimson fur glowing in the lamplight.
The chamber goes silent. Every wolf stares at my blood-red coat, and I see fear flash across more than one face.
"As you can see," Alex continues, his voice steady, "she is indeed a blood-wolf. The first documented in over two centuries." He moves closer to me, his hand resting on my head. "And I am not mad."
"Yet," Elder Thomas mutters.
Alex's eyes flash silver. "Yet? It's been three days since we completed the bond. Three days of being fully connected to her through the mate link. And I'm standing here, perfectly rational, addressing this council." His voice hardens. "When do you expect the madness to appear, Thomas? A week? A month? Or are you starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, the old texts got it wrong?"
"The texts are clear—" Elder Margaret begins.
"The texts are incomplete." Alex cuts her off. "They document what happened, but not why. They never considered that blood-wolves might have the ability to prevent the madness, not cause it."
I shift back to human form, and Sarah quickly drapes a robe over my shoulders. I'm shaking, but I force myself to stand tall.
"May I speak?" My voice is quieter than I'd like, but it carries.
Elder Margaret's lips thin. "You may."
"The mate bond between an Alpha and a blood-wolf is intense," I say, the words I've rehearsed all morning tumbling out. "More intense than any normal bond. That intensity creates pressure on the Alpha's mind and wolf. Cracks form where the bond pushes too hard." I take a breath. "But blood-wolves have healing abilities. Not just for physical wounds, but for those cracks. I can feel them through our bond and heal them before they become broken."
"Convenient," Elder Thomas says. "A convenient explanation after the fact."
"It's the truth." Alex's hand finds my waist, pulling me against his side. "I felt it during our bonding. Her power flowing into me, strengthening the places where the bond would normally fracture." His eyes sweep the council. "She didn't cause madness. She prevented it."
"If that's true," Elder Margaret says slowly, "why didn't the other blood-wolves do the same?"
"Because they didn't know they could," I say. "The texts say blood-wolves were hunted from a young age. Killed before they could learn to control their abilities. The few who survived to find mates probably didn't understand their own power well enough to use it." I meet her gaze. "I'm lucky. My parents taught me control. Taught me to understand my healing abilities. When the bond formed, I knew what to do."
Silence falls. I can see the elders processing, weighing my words against centuries of fear.
"Regardless of the explanations," Elder Thomas says finally, "the fact remains that three packs are camped at our borders demanding we turn her over. Keeping her here puts us all at risk."
"Then we defend." Alex's voice drops, dangerous. "We've defended our territory against worse."
"Have we?" Elder Margaret stands. "The Northern Pack has allied with Eastern and Riverside. That's at least twenty wolves we know of. And if word spreads further? How many packs will we face?"
"As many as come." Alex's power floods the room, making several wolves whimper. "I am Alpha. My word is law. And my word is that my mate stays. Anyone who has a problem with that can challenge me for leadership."
The threat hangs heavy. Nobody moves.
"However," Alex continues, his voice softening slightly, "I understand your concerns. Which is why I'm proposing we demonstrate, publicly, that the bond madness isn't affecting me."
"How?" Elder Margaret asks warily.
"An evaluation. By pack doctors, council members, even visiting Alphas if you want." He looks at each elder in turn. "Test me. Question me. Examine the bond. Prove to yourselves that I'm still fit to lead."
The elders exchange glances. It's Elder Margaret who finally speaks.
"We accept. But not just one evaluation. Monthly assessments for the first year of your bonding. Any signs of instability, aggression beyond your normal temperament, paranoia, or violent outbursts, and we reserve the right to intervene."
My stomach drops. They're setting up a way to remove him if they decide the bond is affecting him negatively.
"Fine," Alex says, and through our bond, I feel his confidence. He truly believes he can pass any test they throw at him. "When do we start?"
"Now." Elder Thomas stands, gesturing to a side room. "The pack doctors are waiting."