Chapter 44 START OF THE ASCENSION RITE
WILLA’S POV
THIS DAMN BASTARD.
THIS. DAMN. FUCKING. JERK.
The ancestral sash was a sacred item to old werewolf families like the Hancrofts, the Wicks, the Warricks, and the Alfieros. It was so sacred that no one could touch it but one’s family members and mate!
And yet Gallahan had let the beautiful woman, who I just learned was actually the renowned Miss Zuleika Banfey, touch his ancestral sash!
“Fuck,” I seethed.
The sight I was forced to bear witness had ignited the need to rip the woman’s hand and smash Gallahan’s head, as fury roared loudly in my mind and in every fiber of my being.
Did the bastard forget about such an old yet deeply ingrained custom? Or did his head go empty in the last six years?
Or maybe Miss Banfey was simply his chosen mate.
But the thought just angered me further.
Why did he have to disrupt my peace? Why did he have to show me the man that he had become and the man that I had to lose? Why did he have to show me how easy it was for him to fill in the spot that was supposed to be mine?
And most of all, why did he have to suddenly appear back into my life and still claim me as his fated mate when he already has a chosen one? Why? Why? Why?!
“Darling, is something the matter?” Mom asked, coming into my line of sight with an expression of utter concern on her face.
She took my trembling hand that was clenched into a tight fist, then began to pry it open.
“You’re going to make yourself bleed,” she said softly. “And please… Please control yourself. Your eyes are glowing, and there could be people watching you.”
I immediately bowed my head and closed my eyes, hoping no one else caught the slip up.
My heartbeat was still loud in my ears, and my blood was angrily rushing through my veins, making me feel hot.
I began to mentally count as I took slow, deep, and even breaths in an attempt to sway myself back to calmer waters. But with the agitation of my inner wolf over Miss Banfey’s intimate gesture with Gallahan, it was a difficult battle to win.
It took me nearly a couple of minutes before I opened my eyes and mumbled to Mom, “Sorry.”
Mom, who had successfully prised open my hand, went on to massage my palm, asking, “What is it, sweetheart?”
“It’s nothing, Mom,” I fibbed, my voice coming out small and shaky.
But Mom didn’t buy it. Not at all. In fact, she leaned close to me and whispered almost conspiratorially, “It’s him, isn’t it?”
I sighed, pulling my hand away from her tender grip.
I wasn’t ready for this conversation at all, and I was sure as hell that I wouldn’t let us have this conversation while being surrounded by prying eyes and ears.
I shifted on my seat, straightening my back and primly clasping my hands on my lap. Then, with my face turned towards the seated crowd, I said, “Mom, not now.”
Mom finally leaned away and sat herself properly on her chair like a dignified lady. “I just need a yes or no, sweetheart.”
My fingers found the soft and silky fabric of my maroon dress, clutching it tightly. Then ever so slightly, I moved my head, just so I could give her a wry look.
In response, she raised her brow at me, as if baiting me to just spit the truth out.
But I didn’t take the bait.
I stubbornly remained mum about the subject, making Mom sigh.
“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, the gesture unfairly coming across as elegant. “I suppose I’ll just be resigning myself into watching him bring hell on land the moment he learns two of the pups among tonight’s rite participants are his.”
Mom’s words pulled a soft sound out of my lips, one that rang in between a sigh and a groan.
My annoyance flared once more, and I could feel my inner wolf clamour to come out, intent to whisk Calisto and Gillian away before Gallahan could dare lay a finger on them.
“I see,” Mom muttered.
“What?” I blurted, garnering a side-way glance from Sir Flamson, an elderly council member of our pack who was seated on my other side.
I cleared my throat and offered him an apologetic smile.
Then I turned to Mom and parroted my earlier reaction, albeit softer this time. “What?”
An affectionate gaze softened the corners of Mom’s eyes. “I am your mother, Willa. I know you. So I can read you well to a certain degree.”
“Mom, seriously-”
“Oh, sweetheart. Listen to me, and trust me. Ease your worries, child, and do not stress yourself about Mr. Wick anymore.”
It took me quite the effort to resist the urge to roll my eyes and scoff. “You’re asking for the impossible, Mom.”
Mom hummed, sounding confident and a tad bit condescending. “I know what I am talking about, sweetheart. After all, your Dad and I are fated mates. I know the magnetic pull, the warmth, the perfection of the connection. Everything will be alright. Things will fall into place eventually. Just don’t keep fighting it. Remember, no fated pair has ever been a mistake. So you shouldn’t have to fear that man and what he’s going to do if he is indeed your fated mate.”
The chance to refute Mom and her tendency to ‘leave things up in the air’—or perhaps ‘leave things up to fate’ would be more fitting in this case—was yanked out of my hands when Dad rose from his seat and lifted his palm to quiet the crowd of thousands.
It was like magic how solemn silence fell and enveloped the entire dome at once.
Then with a hand pressed on top of the moon-like orb, a magical artifact passed down from generation to generation in the Alfiero clan, Dad’s voice was amplified and sonorous as he opened the ceremony with the long welcoming spiel.
Furtively, I mouthed along the words I already knew by heart after attending multiple Ascension Rites since I was five.
“...With and under the blessing of the moon goddess, we shall welcome the future of our kind to the Wolverham pack.”
Then, as if on cue, the door swung open. A bunch of five-year-olds, who were all wearing the same light blue and white ceremonial robes, marched down the carpet in two straight lines.
Some of them couldn’t hold the awe of amazement as they were finally able to enter the Glass Dome that quite held a good fame in our pack. A few others, those who were buzzing with uncontrollable excitement, waved their hands at their parents and friends. But there were those who diligently followed the protocol that was taught to them at the last minute.
It was chaotic as it was adorable.
The small smile I wore grew larger when I spotted Calisto and Gillian in the middle of the group. They were now being organized into eight rows of eight with the help of the three pack members who had signed up for the task of handling the kids.
Pride and affection bubbled in me while I watched the twins follow along obediently, their posture right and proud. Calisto was beaming, his cheeks bunching up, making him look rounder. Gillian was smiling too, slightly rocking on her spot in eagerness to experience the Ascension Rite unfold.
My beautiful, beautiful children.
Tears sprung in my eyes as so much love, joy and pride for my twins drowned me overwhelmingly. Still, a soft smile lingered in my lips.
“Monumental moment for a parent, isn’t it?” Mom whispered surreptitiously.
But with the lump that had taken residence in my throat, I was only able to give her a hum in response.
Then, against better judgment, my misty eyes flickered towards Gallahan, only to find him already staring at me.