Chapter 159 Riley's POV

Chapter 159 Riley's POV
"Stop moving!" Harper says, swatting my hand away from my hair. "I've been working on this for twenty minutes and you keep fidgeting."
"Sorry," I mutter, trying to sit still as she weaves another intricate braid into my hair.
"You're not sorry," Vivienne says from where she's painting her nails a deep crimson. 
"You're nervous. Which is adorable, by the way. The fierce Luna who faced down Chasm entities is scared of her own mating ceremony."
"I'm not scared," I protest. "I'm just…"
"Terrified," Harper finishes. "It's okay. That's normal. You're about to stand in front of hundreds of wolves and permanently bond yourself to Damien. Anyone would be nervous."
Through the bond, I feel Damien's presence. He's with the heirs, and I catch fragments of their conversation, something about whiskey and spiraling.
You're eavesdropping, he sends, amusement coloring the thought.
You were listening to me earlier, I counter. Turnabout is fair play.
Fair point. How's the preparation going?
Harper is doing something complicated with my hair and Vivienne won't stop crying happy tears every five minutes.
The heirs plied me with whiskey and told me I was spiraling.
Were you?
Absolutely.
Through the bond, I feel his love and nervousness mixing with my own, and it's oddly comforting. We're both terrified. We're both excited. We're both absolutely certain this is right.
"There!" Harper announces, stepping back to admire her work. "Look."
I turn to the mirror and barely recognize myself.
My dark brown hair has been transformed into an elaborate half-up style, intricate braids woven through loose curls that cascade down my back. 
Small white flowers are tucked into the braids, delicate and perfect.
"Harper, it's beautiful," I breathe.
"It's not done yet," she says with a grin. "That's just the hair. We still have makeup, jewelry, and the dress."
"How much time do we have?" I ask.
"Three hours," Vivienne says, checking her phone. "Which sounds like a lot but trust me, we need every minute. My mother's schedule is very precise."
As if summoned, Selena Blackthorn sweeps into the room, followed by two assistants carrying what I assume is the dress in a protective garment bag.
"Riley," she says, her pale blue eyes warm despite her regal bearing. "How are you feeling?"
"Nervous," I admit. "But ready."
"Good," Selena says. "Nervous means you understand the significance. Ready means you're prepared for it."
She gestures to the assistants, who begin setting up a portable makeup station.
"We'll start with a light foundation," Selena says, all business now. 
"Nothing too heavy, you have beautiful skin and we want to enhance, not cover. Then we'll emphasize your eyes. Damien won't be able to look away."
Through the bond, I feel Damien's reaction to that. He already can't look away, he sends. You're beautiful without all this.
Sweet talker, I respond. But I appreciate it.
The next hour passes in a blur of brushes and powders and careful application. 
Selena works with the precision of someone who's done this before, probably for her own mating ceremony decades ago.
"My mother did my makeup," Selena says quietly, as if reading my thoughts. 
"The day I mated Marcus. I was terrified. Convinced I wasn't good enough for an Alpha. That the pack would reject me."
"But they didn't," I say.
"No," Selena agrees. "Because I proved myself. Not through bloodline or breeding, but through character. Through standing beside Marcus and supporting him. Through loving the pack enough to lead it."
She meets my eyes in the mirror.
"You've already proven yourself, Riley. The battle did that. Tonight is just making official what everyone already knows, you're Luna. You belong here, and you're going to be magnificent."
Her words make my throat tight with emotion.
"Thank you," I whisper. "For everything. For accepting me. For this." I gesture to the makeup, the preparation, all of it.
"Thank you," Selena counters, "for loving my son. For making him better. For showing him that strength comes in many forms."
She steps back, examining her work.
"Perfect. Now, jewelry."
She produces a velvet box and opens it to reveal a stunning necklace, silver with a pendant shaped like a crescent moon, surrounded by tiny diamonds.
"This belonged to my grandmother," Selena says. "The one whose pendant I gave you before the battle. She wore this at her mating ceremony, and my mother wore it at hers, and I wore it at mine. Now it's yours."
I stare at the necklace, overwhelmed.
"Selena, I can't, this is a family heirloom…"
"And you're family now," she says firmly. "Or you will be in a few hours. Please. Wear it. Continue the tradition."
She fastens it around my neck, and the pendant settles perfectly against my collarbone.
"Beautiful," Vivienne breathes. "Riley, you look like an actual Luna."
"She is an actual Luna," Harper corrects. "Or about to be."
"Now," Selena says, turning to the garment bag with dramatic flair, "the dress."
She unzips the bag slowly, and I see it for the first time.
My breath catches.
It's stunning. More beautiful than anything I've ever seen.
The dress is silver-white, the fabric shimmering like moonlight captured in silk. 
The bodice is fitted, with delicate embroidery tracing patterns of wolves and moons across the fabric. The neckline is elegant without being too revealing, and the back…
"The back is open," Selena explains, "for the mating mark. Traditional wolf ceremony design. The mark needs to be visible to the pack."
The skirt flows from the fitted bodice into layers of gossamer fabric that will trail behind me as I walk. It's elegant. Ethereal. Everything I never imagined I'd wear.
"It's perfect," I whisper.
"Try it on," Selena urges.
Harper and Vivienne help me into the dress, carefully managing all the layers and fastenings. 
When it's finally on, properly fitted and adjusted, I turn to the mirror, and I don't recognize myself.
The girl staring back at me isn't the scholarship student from the trailer park. Isn't the outsider who didn't belong. Isn't the charity case everyone whispered about.
She's Luna.
Confident. Beautiful. Worthy.
"Oh, Riley," Harper says, tears streaming down her face. "You're gorgeous."
"Damien is going to lose his mind," Vivienne adds, also crying.
Through the bond, I feel Damien's curiosity. He's trying to figure out what I look like.
Selena circles me, making tiny adjustments to the dress, ensuring every detail is perfect.
"One more thing," she says, producing a simple silver circlet. "You'll receive the official Luna circlet from Marcus during the ceremony. But for the walk down the aisle, wear this. It belonged to my grandmother as well."
She places it gently on my head, settling it into my elaborate hairstyle.
"There," Selena says, stepping back with satisfaction. "You're ready."
I stare at my reflection, hardly believing this is real.
"I look like a princess," I say.
"You look like a Luna," Selena corrects. "Because that's what you are."