Chapter 125 Luna Lessons
The eastern hall had grown warmer with the rising sun, pale gold light stretching farther across the carved stone floor. Dust motes floated in the air like tiny drifting stars. Somewhere outside, I could hear the distant sounds of the pack beginning their day,footsteps, voices, the thud of doors opening.
Life continuing.
But inside the hall, Mara moved as though the outside world didn’t exist.
“Now,” she said, clasping her hands together lightly, “we move to the next part of preparation.”
I stretched my shoulders, trying to shake off the heaviness of the earlier lessons.
“Please tell me this part involves coffee.”
Mara didn’t even blink.
“No.”
I sighed dramatically.
“You’re determined to ruin my morning.”
“This ceremony has lasted centuries,” she replied calmly. “It has survived far worse than your complaints.”
I muttered something under my breath that made her mouth twitch slightly.
“Next,” she said, “is called Rooting the Pack.”
I frowned.
“That sounds… ominous.”
“It is grounding.”
She gestured for me to follow her as we moved across the eastern hall again. This time she stopped near the far end, where the stone floor shifted into a different pattern.
I hadn’t noticed it before.
A long carved path curved across the ground like a river of pale stone. Symbols were etched into it, old ones. Older than the council halls, older than the pack house.
Older than memory.
“This,” Mara said, nodding toward the carvings, “is the beginning of the Moon Path.”
I crouched slightly, tracing one of the etched markings with my fingers.
“What language is this?”
“Old tongue.”
“That’s helpful.”
She ignored my sarcasm.
“It predates most written pack law.”
The stone felt cool beneath my fingertips.
Solid.
Steady.
Ancient.
Something about it stirred my beast in a quiet way, not restless, not aggressive.
Just aware.
“What happens during Rooting the Pack?” I asked.
Mara began pacing slowly along the path.
“The pack lands must be cleansed.”
“Cleansed how?”
“With moon water.”
I blinked.
“Moon water?”
Her expression remained perfectly serious.
“Yes.”
“That sounds suspiciously mystical.”
“It isn’t.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s simply water from the lake.”
I stared at her.
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“So why call it moon water?”
“Because during Silverbound, the lake reflects the full moon directly over pack territory. Tradition holds that water drawn during this time carries the Moon Goddess’s blessing.”
“That sounds mystical again.”
“It’s symbolic.”
I snorted lightly.
“So we’re blessing houses with lake water.”
“In essence.”
“And every home has to do this?”
“Yes.” She continued “Before the Silverbound, all pack members draw water from the lake. They cleanse their homes with it.”
“Cleanse meaning…?”
“Doorways, windows, hearthstones.”
“That’s a lot of houses.”
“Yes.”
“And people actually do this?”
“They always have.”
I leaned against one of the stone pillars, trying to picture it.
Hundreds of wolves walking to the lake.
Buckets in hand.
Returning home to sprinkle water along door frames and windows.
Preparing their territory.
Grounding themselves.
“Why?” I asked quietly.
“Because territory is not just land,” Mara said. “It is memory.”
Her voice had softened slightly.
“Every pack carries the imprint of those who lived and died within it.”
My stomach tightened faintly.
“Ancestors.”
“Yes.”
“Ghosts,” I muttered.
“Not ghosts.”
She stopped walking and looked at me.
“Roots.”
That word lingered.
Roots. Something I had never really had. I had lived in foster homes, shelters, streets.
Temporary spaces.
Places that belonged to no one.
Or worse, places that rejected you.
The idea of land holding memory felt foreign.
“So the water is symbolic,” I said slowly.
“Yes.”
“It reconnects people to the territory.”
“Yes.”
I nodded thoughtfully.
“That part I understand.”
Mara studied me for a moment, then continued.
“After the homes are cleansed, the pack gathers for the Moon Walk.”
“Moon Walk?”
My brain immediately pictured something ridiculous involving dancing.
Mara pointed toward the carved stone path again.
“This.”
“Oh.”
Right.
“The Moon Walk begins just before the ceremony itself,” she explained. “The Alpha and Luna lead the pack along this path.”
“That sounds like a parade.”
“It is not.”
Her voice sharpened slightly.
“It is quiet.”
Of course it was.
Everything about Silverbound seemed quiet. Controlled. Measured.
“Explain it,” I said.
Mara opened a map of the pack and gestured for me to join her.
“This is where you will stand.”
I moved beside her.“This point,” she said, pointing to a large circle, “is the ceremonial stone.”
I looked down.
“When the Moon Walk begins, you will step here first.”
“Why me?”
“You are Luna.”
“Shouldn’t the Alpha go first?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“The Luna acknowledges the land before the Alpha commands it.”
I blinked.
“That’s… actually kind of powerful.”
“It is.”
Mara folded her arms.
“You will step onto the stone barefoot.”
“Barefoot?”
“Yes.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“This thing looks freezing.”
“It is stone.”
“I noticed.”
“It is meant to connect you to the land directly.”
“So no shoes.”
“No shoes.”
“Wonderful.”
She continued.
“When you step onto the stone, you do not speak.”
I felt immediate relief.
“No speech?”
“No.”
“None at all?”
“None.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “That’s the first good news you’ve given me all morning.”
Her eyebrow lifted.
“You were worried about speaking?”
“Yes.”
She seemed amused.
“This part requires no performance.”
“Good.”
“No commands.”
“Even better.”
“No declarations.”
“Perfect.”
Mara nodded once.
“This moment symbolizes acknowledgment.”
“Of what?”
“Land.”
She gestured toward the distant forest visible through the hall’s open arches.
“Ancestors.”
Her hand swept toward the carved path beneath us.
“Territory.”
Her gaze returned to me.
“You are not commanding the pack here.”
“Then what am I doing?”
“Listening.”
I blinked slowly.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Something warm spread through my chest.
Relief.
Actual relief.
“So I just stand there?”
“Yes.”
“And breathe?”
“Yes.”
“And feel connected to ancient wolf spirits or something?”
Mara sighed.
“You may interpret the experience however you wish.”
I grinned slightly.
“I’ll try not to offend the ancestors.”
“That would be wise.”
I looked down at the ceremonial stone again.
Barefoot.
Silent.
Just… present.