Chapter 49 CHAPTER 49
The soft rustle of parchment filled the king’s study. Ethan sat behind the oak desk, his brows drawn tight as he scanned through the endless council reports - trade ledgers, border patrol updates, and the latest correspondences from neighbouring packs. The room smelled faintly of ink, candle wax, and sleepless nights.
He had been signing off a shipment of new training armour when the doors swung open.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” came Lora’s voice, sharp and unyielding.
Ethan looked up, startled but not surprised. Few in the kingdom could walk into the king’s study without knocking. Lora was one of them.
She stood tall in the doorway, her silver-streaked hair pinned neatly back, her eyes blazing like tempered steel. The years had not dulled her—if anything, they’d carved her into something even more formidable.
“Lora,” Ethan said carefully. “To what do I owe the honour?”
“Honora?” She stepped forward, her boots echoing against the polished floor. “I call it concern. What is this I hear about a private ceremony for the princess’s first shift?”
Ethan sighed, setting down his pen. “Word travels fast.”
“When my son brings it to me over dinner, yes, it travels fast,” she snapped. “Liam may have thought nothing of it, but I do. You planned to take Lisa into the woods tonight, with only a handful of witnesses? That girl’s first shift deserves to shake the heavens.”
“Lora,” he began, his tone weary but firm. “Lisa isn’t ready for crowds. She’s been through enough. The idea was to give her something gentle - safe. A quiet way to find her wolf again.”
Her expression softened for just a heartbeat, then hardened again. “I know you mean well, Ethan. But you’re thinking like a brother, not a king.”
He looked up sharply. “She’s both, Lora. My sister and my princess.”
“Then treat her as both,” she countered, her voice lowering, rich and steady. “She’s no longer the lost child of Silverpine. She’s the heir of Mooncrest. This court has missed every one of her firsts - her first words, her first steps, her first laughter in this hall. Will we let her first true shift pass in silence too?”
Ethan leaned back, his jaw tightening. “You want a spectacle. I want her peace.”
“I want her to belong,” Lora said quietly. “To her people. To this court. Do you think they’ve all truly accepted her yet? They haven’t. They respect your word, but not all hearts follow orders. Let them see her for who she is - a Mooncrest princess, strong and chosen. Her shift is the perfect moment for that.”
He hesitated. For all his rank, Ethan could never quite argue with her. She’d raised him as much as his own mother had. When she spoke, the weight of the kingdom seemed to hum behind her words.
At last, he rubbed a hand across his face. “You’ve already spoken to the council, haven’t you?”
“They agree with me,” she admitted. “They’re ready to help prepare. The next full moon is in three nights. That’s when it should happen - properly. The ceremony will not only honour her, but the bloodline she represents.”
Ethan’s gaze fell to the papers on his desk - petitions, taxes, treaties - all meaningless compared to this. “She’ll be terrified,” he murmured. “She still startles at her own reflection. How am I supposed to tell her this?”
Lora’s expression softened now, maternal warmth melting through her sternness. “Leave that to me. I’ll talk to her, woman to woman. And, Ethan,” she added, a faint smile tugging at her lips, “you were truly going to let her shift without a female elder present? The poor child would have no idea what’s happening to her body.”
Despite himself, Ethan chuckled under his breath. “You never miss a chance to remind me how little I know.”
“That’s why the goddess keeps me around,” she said with a teasing glint. Then her tone turned gentle again. “She’s been denied her birth right long enough. Let’s give her back her story.”
Ethan leaned forward, elbows on the desk, watching her. “All right, Lora. The full moon it is.”
She nodded once, briskly. “Good. I’ll begin the arrangements. And don’t glare at your commander too harshly - Liam only told me because he was proud. He cares for her, you know.”
Ethan’s eyes softened. “I know.”
Ethan leaned back in his chair when the door closed behind Lora, the faint sound of her steps fading down the marble corridor. Silence returned, thick and alive.
His thoughts slipped to another night beneath the same moon - the night of his first shift. He had been fifteen, terrified and trembling, the woods behind the palace alive with whispers and torchlight. Lora had stood near, her hand on his shoulder, her voice a soft murmur that steadied his racing heart. And beside her, Elder Rufus - the old wolf who had once stood at his father’s side - had watched him with pride and patience, the way a father would.
When the shift began, pain had lanced through every bone. He remembered the crack of it, the rush of fire under his skin, the breath that turned to a howl. And then, suddenly, there was silence -his silence - before the forest answered. Rufus had been the first to bow his head, his deep voice breaking into a chant of welcome. Lora had knelt beside his wolf form, tears shining on her cheeks.
Ethan smiled faintly. They gave me courage that night, he thought. They made me believe I belonged.
Rex stirred in his mind, his voice a low rumble. Yes, they made sure to stand in the gap our parents left during our first shift. And now it’s our sisters’ turn. They deserve to be celebrated just like we were. Lora is right, and I’m sure waiting three more days to see my little sister won’t hurt me.
Ethan’s gaze lifted to the window, where moonlight brushed the desk. “Three nights,” he whispered.
“Then we’ll get to meet her - Celia the Mooncrest pack royal princess.”