Chapter 248 Pack ritual 2
Chapter 248 Pack ritual 2
pack ritual 2
damon pov
They scattered like lost flocks, to follow my orders.
Within an hour, dozens of wolves had gathered in the great hall where we had laid Milo's body on a raised platform.
Daphne had chosen the hall, because according to her, it's the place where everything concerning the pack, ranging from dispute, to pack festivals and feast takes place, hence the better place for the pack ritual.
The room was full, but silent except for soft breathing and the occasional whimper from the women and children. This was their first time learning about what happened.
Daphne stood at the head, explaining what we were about to attempt. "The pack bond is powerful, but it requires sacrifice. Blood, given willingly, to forge a connection strong enough to reach wherever Milo's consciousness has retreated."
She turned to me. "Damon, as his mate and alpha, you will be the anchor. Your bond to him is the strongest. The rest of us will lend our strength, our blood, and our connection as one pack. You will be the one to amplify it."
I nodded, already moving to Milo's side. My hand found his fur, still soft despite everything. "Tell me what to do."
Daphne produced a ceremonial blade, silver and ancient. "First, you offer your blood directly to him. Not just any blood… alpha blood, given with purpose and will."
I took the blade without hesitation, drawing it across my palm. Blood welled up, rich and red. I pressed my bleeding hand to Milo's mouth, letting it flow past his lips.
"Come back to me," I whispered, letting my alphas' command mix together with the blood. "Follow my blood. Follow our bond. Come home."
One by one, the other wolves approached. Each made a small cut, letting their blood drip into a ceremonial bowl that Daphne then poured over Milo's body. They whispered their own pleas, their own promises.
"You saved my daughter."
"You gave us hope."
"You showed us strength comes in many forms."
So on and on. They came and went.
The bowl emptied. Refilled, Emptied again. Dozens of wolves willingly offered their blood, their life force, to the omega who had sacrificed everything for them.
But still, Milo didn't move.
"It's not enough," I said desperately. "We need more. We need…"
"The baby."
Everyone turned to stare at Selene, who stood in the doorway with my son in her arms.
"No," I said immediately. "He's too young. It could hurt him."
"Not his blood," Selene clarified, approaching slowly. "His bond. The parent-child bond. Damon, you know it's the strongest connection in existence. If anything can reach through to Milo, it's his son."
My hands shook as I took the baby from her. He was so small, so fragile. His purple eyes… Milo's eyes blinked up at me with innocent trust.
For days, I had refused to hold him. Couldn't bear to see Milo's features reflected in our son's face. But now...
"Guide your father home," I whispered, pressing a tiny needle Daphne had given me in his hands.
The tiny cry of my son filled the hall.
A tiny drop of blood formed, falling inside the ritual bowl. Slowly but steady, I poured the last batch on Milo.
I felt the tension increase three folds. Everyone held their breath. 1 minute passed, 2, 5, and nothing happened.
Milo's body remained cold. Still. Unresponsive.
My head swam. I was losing too much blood. We all were. Daphne would have to stop us soon, would have to…
Our son whimpered in my arms, still crying, his little hands gasped towards Milo, as if he understood the gravity of what was happening.
The sound cut through my fading consciousness like a blade.
My son, crying for his father. His father who had leaped into an explosion to save him. Who had burned his very essence to ensure his child would have a future.
And now that child was reaching out, calling for him in the only way he knew how.
“Damon, we had an agreement. It's time.”
Something broke inside me. Some final wall of denial or restraint or self-preservation. I knew what I had to do.
"Everyone, step back," I said, my voice barely a whisper.
"Damon…" Daphne called,
"Step back!" The alpha command laced through the words, and they obeyed despite their confusion.
I carefully repositioned our son, holding him with my uninjured arm, then pressed him gently against Milo's chest. Right over where his heart should be beating. Where their bond… the parent-child bond that had formed in the moments after birth… should be.
"Say goodbye," I whispered to the baby, my tears falling freely now. "Say goodbye to your father. Tell him... tell him how much we love him. How much we need him. Tell him..."
My voice broke completely.
My son's small hand rested against Milo's chest, and his crying intensified, as if he too felt the wrongness of his father's silence
And for just a moment… so brief I thought I felt something. But alas, it was just my imagination.
"Milo," I breathed., "Milo, if you can hear me, follow our son. Follow the bond between you. He needs you. Please, come home