Chapter 19
Abigail's POV
Elodie pulled me through the square, enthusiastically introducing me to the preparations along the way. The massive bonfire in the center had been stacked with wood, waiting only for sunset to be lit. Long tables lined the square's edges neatly, laden with food and drink, metal trays gleaming in the sunlight. Busy wolves filled every corner—calling out, moving supplies, checking lists—the entire venue seeming to gather momentum for the approaching climax.
"It's beautiful," I said sincerely.
Elodie grinned, pride unmistakable in her eyes. "Wait until the ceremony starts. You'll find it even more spectacular."
Time passed quietly amid preparations and conversation, the sun gradually sliding toward the horizon. More and more guests gathered in the square, the noise growing denser, the atmosphere increasingly fervent. I stayed close to Elodie, letting her guide me among representatives of different packs, politely greeting them while maintaining appropriate distance.
Even while smiling and exchanging pleasantries, part of my attention remained locked firmly on Olivia.
She prowled the square's edges like a patient leopard, sometimes conversing with heirs of other packs, sometimes politely greeting elders. Every few minutes, she would unobtrusively glance in my direction, her eyes harboring shadows I couldn't penetrate.
Then I saw another familiar figure.
Cassandra.
She stood near one of the long tables, a servant beside her, speaking in low tones. A lazy smile played at the corners of her mouth, her gaze wandering casually across the square before stopping precisely on me.
Our eyes met in midair.
Her smile slowly widened, becoming sharp, deliberate, malice nearly spilling from her lips.
Elodie noticed my fingers tightening slightly around hers and turned to look at me. "Are you all right?" She frowned. "You seem a little nervous."
"I'm fine." I forced a smile, pulling my gaze from Cassandra. "Just... a little nervous for you."
Her brow smoothed, and she smiled confidently. "Don't be nervous for me. I've been waiting for this day for a long time."
As the last golden ray of sunlight disappeared from the ridge, night fell quickly. Torches lit one by one, the central bonfire was ignited, flames leaping up with a whoosh, clawing at the darkness.
The ceremony began.
Elodie stood at the very center of the square, enveloped in the bonfire's glow. Firelight danced across her deep red gown, her shadow stretching and twisting across the stone ground. The crowd gradually quieted, all eyes converging on her, the air seeming to grow heavy with anticipation.
The moon rose slowly from behind the clouds, its silver-white light spilling down, interweaving with the bonfire into a strange brightness and shadow.
At that intersection of light and fire, she began her first transformation.
Her body shuddered violently, chest heaving rapidly, then her back arched, knees bending. Her limbs were lengthening, bones making low grinding sounds, muscles writhing and reshaping like living things. Copper-red fur spread across her skin like flames awakened by sunset, covering her inch by inch.
Her face was changing, but her eyes remained those familiar eyes—except now they burned with fierce golden light.
When the last trace of human outline disappeared, a massive she-wolf stood where Elodie had just been. She raised her head high, her fur reflecting warm light in the firelight, her body powerful, her lines clean, her presence commanding.
Silence held for an instant—then the entire square erupted in mountain-shattering, sea-splitting cheers and howls. That sound gathered into a torrent, rushing toward the night sky, echoing endlessly through the valley.
I watched her, my chest gripped tight by a mixture of awe and longing.
Soon, I told myself. Soon, that will be me too.
Amid her pack's cheers, Elodie transformed back to human form. Her shape re-emerged from the wolf shadow into human contours, skin and fur alternating, and she knelt on the ground, gasping, sweat and firelight intermingling on her forehead. Someone handed her a cloak, and after draping it around herself, she slowly stood.
When she turned to look at me, her face bore undisguised triumph and joy, her smile bright enough to illuminate the night.
Next, the ceremony entered the gift-giving phase.
Wolves formed a line, stepping forward in turn to present their prepared gifts before her. Some offered exquisite weapons, others precious herbs and talismans, and still others brought ceremonial objects symbolizing family promises.
I stood in the queue, holding that small wooden box. Its weight was steady in my palm, but my pulse beat increasingly clearly at my wrist.
When my turn finally came to step forward, a familiar fragrance approached, accompanied by a saccharine voice.
"Abigail really went to great lengths for this gift." Olivia suddenly appeared beside me, her voice bright, deliberately raised half a tone so those around could hear. "Elodie, you must open it right away and see."
I raised my eyes, briefly meeting hers. Her smile was perfect, but her eyes were ice-cold. I ignored her and turned all my attention to Elodie, presenting the wooden box with both hands.
"This is what I prepared for you. I hope it will keep you safe."
The prickling sensation at the back of my neck grew more pronounced, as if invisible gazes were focusing on that point. I could feel that some people around had been drawn by Olivia's words, their gazes turning toward us.
Elodie carefully accepted the box, seemingly infected by my serious tone, her expression also becoming earnest. She lowered her head and opened the lid, and when she lifted the Moon's Tear from its velvet lining, her eyes clearly widened.
"So beautiful..." she said softly, almost holding her breath, raising the stone to the firelight. The Moon's Tear's glow interwove between firelight and moonlight, gentle yet firm, reflecting on her face, momentarily seeming to gild her with a layer of light.
A few low murmurs of admiration sounded around us. The next second, a grating voice violently severed the moment.
"Wait." Cassandra emerged from the crowd, her steps unhurried, her voice like a blade slicing through silk. "I've seen that stone before."
The crowd's noise fell silent in an instant, all eyes refocusing on her, then following her gaze to the stone and to me.
Cassandra stepped closer a few paces, her gaze sweeping over the Moon's Tear, a smile curving her lips.
"A few days ago I saw a merchant in the market selling fake goods. The stones in his hands looked exactly like this one. He also called them Moon's Tears, but they were actually Corrosion Stones—cursed things that bring bad luck if touched." Her gaze drifted leisurely toward me.
"What's interesting is, this stone looks exactly like his batch of goods."