Chapter 84 FALSE BLESSING
Elder Janice's Pov
“There is life.”
The moment I said the words “there is life,” the entire crowd erupted into celebration. People were clapping and cheering and calling out congratulations to Alpha Raphael and Luna Medea. Some of the women were crying happy tears. The whole atmosphere shifted from solemn ceremony to joyful party in an instant.
But I could not let them celebrate too much because I had more to say.
I raised my hand and the crowd slowly quieted down. They were still smiling and excited but they could tell from my expression that I was not finished with my announcement.
"However," I said and I made my voice grave and serious. "The pregnancy is troubled."
The smiles began to falter, freezing halfway across faces before slowly disappearing altogether. Confusion rippled through the gathered crowd, followed closely by unease. People exchanged uneasy glances, brows knitting, whispers stirring at the edges of the room. This was not joy or reverence. This was tension. This was wrong. Whatever they had come expecting during a sacred blessing ceremony, it certainly wasn’t this sharp turn into suspicion and quiet alarm.
"The life force is weak and unstable. This child's survival is uncertain," I continued.
Now the crowd was completely silent again. The joy had drained out of the moment and been replaced with worry. I could see mothers in the audience instinctively placing their hands over their own bellies as if protecting their children from whatever was threatening Medea's baby.
I turned to look at Medea and I could see the shock on her face. She had not expected me to say this. Whatever arrangement Eclipse had made with her it clearly did not include announcing that the pregnancy was troubled.
"Luna Medea you must take great care from this moment forward," I said directly to her. "Complete bed rest is required. No stress of any kind. No physical activity beyond the most basic movements."
"I understand Elder Janice," Medea said and her voice shook.
“The slightest strain could cause you to lose this child,” I said, keeping my tone firm, clinical, unyielding. “Your body is already struggling to maintain this pregnancy, and that means the margin for survival is dangerously thin. Even emotional shock, prolonged stress, or physical exertion could push it beyond what it can endure. This is no longer a matter of caution or preference. It is necessity. From this moment on, every choice must be made with preservation in mind—yours and the child’s—because your body is already fighting a battle it may not win without absolute care.”
I was laying it on thick now. Making sure that everyone understood just how precarious this situation was. If Medea were not pregnant anymore in a few weeks or months I wanted everyone to remember that I had warned them this could happen.
"The Moon Goddess has blessed you with life but that life hangs by a thread. You must do everything in your power to protect it," I said.
I said it loud enough for the entire crowd to hear. I wanted my words to be remembered. I wanted there to be no doubt that I had identified this pregnancy as troubled from the very beginning.
Medea nodded and I could see tears forming in her eyes. I wondered if they were tears of fear or tears of frustration. Maybe both.
Alpha Raphael stepped up onto the platform and wrapped his arm around Medea protectively. He looked shaken by my announcement but he was trying to appear strong for his pack.
"We will take every precaution," Raphael said to the crowd. "Our child's safety is our top priority. Luna Medea will have the best care possible and we will follow Elder Janice's guidance exactly."
The crowd applauded, but it was cautious, restrained—a polite echo of celebration rather than true enthusiasm. Hands clapped, but slower, hesitant, as if afraid to make too much noise. Faces were still frozen in thought, brows furrowed, eyes flicking between one another as they tried to parse the weight of my words. Whispers started to ripple through the assembly, questions unspoken but palpable. Everyone was processing, attempting to understand what had just been said and what it might mean for them, for the future, for the fragile tension that now hung over the room.
I stepped back to join Elder Marcus and Elder Ruth. Elder Marcus leaned close to me.
"That was well done. You have protected us if this pregnancy fails," Elder Marcus whispered.
"I hope so," I whispered back.
But I was not entirely convinced. I looked out at the crowd and found Eclipse. She was sitting in the front row and her expression was hard to read. She did not look happy but she did not look angry either. More like she was thinking and calculating.
I wondered what she was planning. Had I given her what she paid for or had I complicated her schemes by announcing the pregnancy was troubled?
Then I saw Celestia—the exiled former Luna. She remained seated beside the Lycan King, perfectly still, as if carved from stone. Her gaze locked onto me, sharp and unblinking, carrying an intensity that made my skin prickle and my chest tighten. There was no warmth in it, no plea—only something dark, calculating, and unnervingly knowing. When our eyes met, the moment stretched unbearably long, heavy with unspoken judgment and challenge. My stomach twisted, heart hammering, and I was the first to look away, unsettled by the certainty that she had seen far more than I ever intended her to, that nothing I did could escape her scrutiny now.
There was something in her gaze that made me deeply uncomfortable. She looked like she could see right through me. Like she knew I had accepted a bribe and announced something I was not entirely certain of.
I had heard the rumors about Celestia. That she was innocent of the crimes for which she was exiled. That she had been framed by Eclipse and Medea. At the time I had not wanted to believe it because it seemed too complicated and too evil.
But now looking at Celestia's knowing expression I wondered if the rumors were true. And if they were true then I had just helped the people who framed her by confirming this questionable pregnancy.
The ceremony was technically over, but the hall still thrummed with a tense, uneasy energy that no amount of ritual or applause could dissipate. There was supposed to be a feast, a celebration filled with laughter, music, and chatter, yet now it felt fragile, almost staged. Servants hurried in, carrying trays and arranging tables laden with food and drink, their movements precise, careful, as if the slightest misstep would shatter the uneasy calm. Musicians set up their instruments, plucking strings and testing notes, tentative, aware of the heavy atmosphere, of whispered rumors and sideways glances, waiting for the moment they could coax joy back into a room that no longer felt entirely safe or celebratory.
But the mood was all wrong. Instead of a joyful celebration, this felt more like a funeral. People were talking in quiet voices and casting worried glances at Medea.
Raphael helped Medea down from the platform and immediately several pack doctors rushed over to check on her. They were taking my warning about bed rest very seriously.
I watched as they fussed over Medea and led her to a comfortable chair. She was playing the role of a fragile pregnant woman well. She let them help her sit down and accepted a glass of water with shaking hands.
But I noticed something. When she thought no one was looking her expression changed. Just for a moment the fear was replaced with something else. Anger maybe. Or frustration.
It made me wonder what was really going on, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts with relentless persistence. Was she truly carrying a child, struggling through a fragile, troubled pregnancy, or was this entire story nothing more than an elaborate deception crafted to manipulate everyone around her? Every expression, every whispered word, every carefully timed pause suddenly felt suspect. I found myself questioning her motives, doubting what I had seen, and wondering how deep the truth—or the lie—really ran beneath the surface.
Eclipse approached me and I tensed up. I did not want to talk to her right now but I could not avoid her without being obvious.
"Elder Janice that was quite an announcement," Eclipse said.
"I only spoke the truth of what I sensed," I said.
"Of course. And I appreciate your thoroughness in explaining the situation to everyone," Eclipse said.
She was being polite but I could hear the edge in her voice. She was not entirely happy with how I had handled things.