Chapter 150
Chapter 150
The Alpha Who Stands Still
In the Silver Pack, a perfect white sphere swelled with divine power. Tonight is the long-awaited Blessing Ritual — the sacred dawn of new hope for the future of the pack.
But something was dreadfully wrong.
The Luna’s place beside the Alpha remained empty.
Every wolf noticed it. Every eye stared at the absence more than the presence of their leader.
The ceremonial yard, circled by towering pillars, shimmered with symbols. Warriors formed protective lines along the walls while fire torches crackled in a night wind. Flowers woven into moon wreaths adorned the stage where Marcus stood — fists clenched behind his back, shoulders squared in a display of dominance and resolve.
His wolf raged inside his skin, pacing in madness.
Where is she? Why are we alone before the Goddess? This is wrong.
He forced himself to ignore the restless howls clawing at his ribs.
The crowd murmured in waves:
“The Luna is missing.”
“Will the Moon Goddess abandon us?”
“Has she run away?”
Marcus raised his chin, eyes sweeping the gathering. His voice thundered across the yard:
“Your Luna is preparing her own path to the blessing. Do not fear her absence — fear your own doubt.”
The murmurs faltered — but only for a moment.
Elder Grath, dressed in ceremonial robes of deep indigo — the color reserved for former Alphas and those seeking influence — moved with grace. His eyes gleamed with the cold triumph of a man watching his plans fall into place.
“Alpha Marcus,” Grath sounds loud, ensuring all heard him, “A ritual of blessing requires balance — the Alpha and the Luna. The Moon does not honor a kingdom built upon one pillar.”
“And yet, here I stand — one pillar strong enough to protect all of you.”
A ripple of shifting paws. The tension grew choking.
Grath's voice dipped in false sympathy.
“We only ask what the Goddess asks — transparency, Marcus. If your Luna has fled, if she has abandoned her duty—”
Marcus’s roar cracked the air like lightning.
“My Luna has never abandoned anything. Least of all, this pack!”
Even the torches flickered with the force of his voice. Some wolves lowered their heads instinctively — submission to dominance undeniable.
But doubt still lingered. When fear enters hearts, even loyalty can tremble.
The priestess of the Moon, approached the ritual altar. Moon-light glimmered in her bone-white cloak. Every wolf bowed as she lifted her staff, carved with ancient symbols.
“It is time,” she declared, her voice eerily.
She looked at Marcus with eyes that held centuries of wisdom.
“Where is your Luna?”
The question hung like a knife.
“She is with the Moon,” he answered.
“Preparing to bring us the future we seek.” He answered.
The priestess looked at him, searching for lies.
But Marcus believed his own words — they were the only way to keep breathing.
After a moment, she turned to the pack and announced:
“Then the Alpha shall proceed alone.”
A murmured hit the tyard — tradition shattered.
Marcus stepped into the sacred circle etched into the ground. The air vibrated — ancient magic awakening.
Moonlight struck his body like beams of molten silver. His wolf surged, bones quivering under the sheer force of celestial power.
He had never felt so exposed.
Half a ritual — half a hope — half a pair.
She lifted her staff.
The Moon answered.
Wind whipped the yard, swirling into a shimmering dust. Wolves lowered themselves in awe as Marcus’ eyes glowed a lupine gold.
The priestess chanted:
“Moon Goddess —
bearer of fates, mother of wolves —
look upon your Alpha!”
Lightning flashed.
Then—
Silence.
A silence so deep it felt like the entire world held its breath.
She continued:
“Bless his bloodline.
Grant the Silver Pack an heir—”
But the magic… stopped.
The wind died.
Marcus’ glow faded.
And a powerful wave of cold rejection slammed into him, sending him staggering backward.
A wail of horror rose from the crowd. She clutched her staff, shock twisting her features.
“The Goddess…” she whispered, voice breaking.
“She denies the blessing.”
Marcus gasped, chest heaving.
Denied?
The ritual had failed.
The Moon Goddess had turned away from him.
From them.
The yard hot into chaos.
Wolves snarled. Omegas whimpered. Warriors shouted to hold the lines.
Elder Grath lifted his arms like a prophet delivering a long-awaited truth.
“There!” he shouted, voice booming.
“That is the consequence of a Luna who cannot fulfill her destiny! A blessing cannot reach a pack led astray by weakness!”
Marcus’ wolf snapped — his roar shook the mountain itself.
Warriors struggled to restrain him, fear radiating from their bodies.
Grath smiled — a serpent baring fangs.
“Silver Pack deserves a Luna who stands here! Not one who hides in shame and dishonor!”
Marcus surged past the warriors, fury blinding his senses—
But then—
A howl sliced the night.
The gates of the yard burst open.
Wolves turned.
Torches flickered.
Every eye froze on the figure stepping through the entrance.
A woman cloaked in blood-red fur, beauty and arrogance dripping from every poised movement.
Her eyes — storm-cloud gray — locked on the Alpha.
A smile curved her lips.
Frayer.
Elder Grath’s daughter.
The ambitious she-wolf who once swore Marcus would be hers.
She bowed, her voice echoing like coated poison:
“Forgive my lateness, my Alpha.
I am here now — to stand beside you.
And to give this pack what it deserves.”
Wolves gasped.
Chants erupted.
Some shouted her name:
“Frayer! Frayer! Frayer!”
Marcus’ rage halted, breath shattering from his lungs.
This was Grath’s plan.
Weaponize his daughter. Replace Camila. Rewrite the future —
Without the true Luna.
Marcus stared at Frayer — hatred burning in him. But he realized something chilling:
If he refused her now…
The Silver Pack would turn against him entirely.
He was alone.
No Luna.
Denied blessing.
Pack on the edge of rebellion.
Frayer took one final step forward, fangs glinting in the moonlight.
“Let me save you, Marcus.”
The moon glowed brighter —
As if watching.
Judging.
Waiting.
For the Alpha’s next move.
The Blessing Ritual had not ended.
It had only just begun —
and its true battle had arrived.