Chapter Twelve: The ceremony confrontation

Chapter Twelve: The ceremony confrontation

Freya’s POV

The suit Godric had ordered made for me was a work of intimidation barely concealed within elegance. It was a deep emerald silk that matched my eyes, cut to accentuate instead of disguise the gentle curve of my expanding belly. Diamonds dripped from my throat and ears, leaping gifts that may have been worth more than some packs made in a year. I hardly recognized the woman I saw staring back at me in the mirror, submissive Luna who’d once dwelt here too.

The convoy that had brought us into SilverFang lands was ostentatious by design – three ebony carriages, emblazoned on all sides with the Obsidian sigil in silver hauled through the wilderness of Silverfang territory by riders in full ceremonial regalia. Godric’s set up had been painstakingly laid out to appear powerful and prosperous, so that everyone would know precisely how high I’d risen after running from this pack not butawet with miserable tears.

"Nervous?" it was as they rounded the familiar gates.

I pondered the question, which surprised me — it did not occur to me that I felt anxious. “No,” I murmured, it was true. “I used to think I would be, but … it’s like looking at someone else’s life. As if those were just places where I once lived.”

His smile was smug and proprietorial. "Good. You’re too big for this place now, little wolf. Now is the time to show them just how much.”

The pack house courtyard was full that evening, a mass of strangers whose attentions turned the faces of all his kin toward him as they awaited the naming ceremony. The brief calm gasped its last as our convoy rolled in, hundreds of eyes following our course to the primary entrance. I stood up straight and serene, one hand on my belly and that was what would be stubbornly noted and analyzed.

Maya, my real attendent pulled me out from the carriage with a practiced hand, seeing to it that I did not emerge too unporportionaly or gracelessly. The whispers began right away — remarks about my appearance, speculation about my pregnancy and oratory on the conspicuous wealth evident in my jewelry and clothing.

“Luna Freya,” growled a familiar voice, and I looked over to find Elder Marcus lumbering toward me along with the rest of the Council. "You look... well."

“I’m fine Elder Marcus,” I answered with a steady voice. "Pregnancy agrees with me."

His gaze traveled to Godric, who stood at my shoulder as though it was his right. "Alpha Godric. I’m sorry, but it’s strange to see you two here amidst the…”

"What circumstances would those be?" Godric asked with dangerous politeness. “You’re not saying we would turn our back on marking new life and diplomacy?”

Elder Marcus was about to answer when Ryan stepped out in the main entrance. His features were worn, looking far older than twenty-five, but there was deadly determination in his strides towards us. His blue gaze roamed over me from head to toes, pausing at the undeniable curve of my belly.

“Freya,” he said and my name was a prayer in his mouth. "Thank you for coming."

"Alpha Ryan," I answered clinical e, giving the little nod that decorum warranted. "Congratulations on your daughter's birth. I hope both mother and child are doing well?"

"They are," he answered, never taking his eyes from my face. "Shirley is eager to see you. She's… she's missed talking to another Luna."

The lie was so blatant that a few people nearby squirmed. Everyone knew Shirley was a part of my exile from these folk, and the notion that she missed me was ridiculous.

“How kind,” I replied with a smile that did not involve my eyes. “I am anxious to see your offspring.”

Ryan winced at the term ‘heir’ and I knew in his thoughts he was contemplating my unborn child – who that should have belonged to in SilverFang’s future, but now would be brought up as Obsidian royalty.

"Shall we go inside?" His hand came to rest possessively at the small of my back, “Godric recommended. “I’m looking forward to meeting this daughter you’re bragging so much about, Ryan.”

The great hall had been festooned for celebration -- flowers and banners made it gay. The room was filled with packpoliticians and visiting dignitaries, but I could see how the conversations all ceased as we came through. The change in me was just so drastic, it couldn’t be ignored- a place for which I had only moved through like a ghost – now saturated with all my being – enough to gain people’s attention just from existing.

"Freya?"

I glanced to see some of the former pack members nervously coming over. Women who’d once been my friends, men who had ridden in the ranks beneath Ryan when I’d still been Luna. They looked curious, then apologetic and then outright wowed.

"Luna Sarah," I greeted the first, a woman who had been a member of my inner circle prior to Shirley coming along and ruining everything. "You look well."

“And you do as well.” She looked at how obviously successful I was. "We've missed you, Freya. The pack has not been the same since then..."

"Since I departed," I cut for her, both of us avoiding the embarrassment of choosing nice words. “Change is always hard, but sometimes it’s necessary for growth.”

The group shared a look with each other and even I could tell that the subtext was just as audible in what I had said. I was not the damaged woman who had run from their land – I had emerged a person that was stronger and braver even if still just as formidable.

“Here they come,” someone said, and the crowd started to shift toward the ceremonial platform, where Ryan and Shirley stood.

"The much worst for wear" Shirley was looking perfectly good despite her recent harrowing experience, robed in a dress of pale blue silk which served to heighten the color of her violet eyes. She cradled a little bundle to her chest — baby Miu made her first public appearance. The scene ought to have pained me, should have brought up all I had lost.

Instead, I was removed, feeling as though I were watching strangers go through a ritual that had nothing to do with me.

"Presenting Miu, child of SilverFang and heir to our line!" producted Ryan his voice resonating through the chamber. "May she be strong and wise, shielded by our pack and blessed by the moon goddess."

The usual responses came from the mass below, but I didn't respond. This was no longer my pack, and this wasn’t my event to join.

As it was time for the visiting Alphas to give their blessings Godric seemed to stalk forward like a predator. The throng split asunder before him, their own animal sense of power parting for his coming.

"Alpha Godric, of the Obsidian Pack," announced the cleric. "Do you bless this child?"

“I do,” Godric replied, his voice clear to all in the hall. “May little Miu become strong and find her true place in this world, whatever that might be.”

It was a diplomatically worded blessing, but there were subtle implications in it that made Ryans jaws clench. By receiving the child, Godric was recognizing its legitimacy without committing anyone to any political allegiances in the future.

But it was the next thing that occurred that sent shockwaves through the room.

Rather than heading back with the rest of the visiting Alphas, Godric came over towards me. Sweeping it over the curve of my belly with everyone looking on, this touch was as tender as it was proprietorial.

“And this child.” His voice was loud in the abrupt silence. “May they grow strong knowing that they are loved, that they are wanted—born for greatness in the Obsidian Pack.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. It was scandalous to assert that in public, even among conservative Victorians, but more than a statement of sentiment it conveyed at the other end of a loud horn exactly what was being claimed. Heirs of my child reared in his domain, possessed by him even if not begotten by him.

Ryan had turned white, then red, with something close to controlled fury. Next to him, Shirley’s false veneer of courteous hospitality finally gave way to the hate and fury she had spent so many years hiding below her saccharine surface.

"You oughtn't to," hissed Shirley in a low voice that made itself heard clearly through the atmosphere of consternation. “How dare you come into our home and wave your stolen —”

“Shirley,” Ryan cautioned, although his mate was beyond politesse by that point.

"No!" she snapped, taking another step forward, with Miu still in her arms. “Oh, I will not sit here and play second fiddle while she parades around like some kind of queen pregnant with your child and playing house in my father’s home!”

The public meltdown was the one I had been expecting, but hoping hadn’t occurred. With Shirley's facade she had so carefully built up slowly breaking down around her, we all could see just that horrible, envious and ambitious woman.

I stated nonchalantly whilst I placed my hand on top of Godric's that was atop my stomach. “its mother is Obsidian Pack. When it comes to family, biology doesn’t matter, right?”

The barb hit its mark. Shirley and Godric's relationship had always been difficult, his expectations versus her independence. What I'd meant by choosing families -- as opposed to having them thrust upon us -- was a most decidedly challenge to her assertion of ownership not only over her father's heart, but also Ryan's loyalty.

“You scheming bitch,” said Shirley., now without all pretense of politeness. “From the start, you planned this. Trapped Ryan by getting knocked up, then threw yourself at my father when you failed.”

The charge was so preposterous it was all I could do not to giggle. But I saw the harm — the lack of confidence setting into some faces, the quiet muttering about my intentions.

“I’d planned nothing,” I said, my voice sounding as though it echoed across the hall. “I just decided to build a new life when my old one became impossible. If that scares you, maybe you should ask yourself why.”

Before Shirley could reply, Miu cried – the rough voices and stress even reaching the infant. That sound sliced through the tension in the room, reminding everyone present that there was a small child caught in the cross hairs of our grown-up war.

"Maybe we should leave," Godric whispered, although he was still in a protective stance. “We have already extended our congratulations and blessings.”

As we started to leave, Ryan’s voice halted us. "Freya, wait."

I glanced over my shoulder to see him standing there all alone – Shirley had skulked off into the distance with said bawling baby, leaving him exposed and defenceless in front of an audience.

"Is the child mine?" he asked, the query ripped from his mouth in spite of their very public location.

There was dead silence in the hall as everyone waited for my response. This was the moment that would decide everything – my child’s fate, Ryan’s contribution to our history, the power dynamic between our territories.

"The baby is Godric's," I told him firmly, my hand covering his still where it lay on my stomach. "In every way that matters."

Ryan’s face folded in on itself, with grief and regret fighting across his features. But all I could muster for the man who’d once been my entire world was distant pity.

As we conducted one final walk away from SilverFang territory, I knew I had finally let go of the old me.

It appeared the war was just starting.