Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Chapter 31
I just hope… Wade leaves as peacefully as he did in my life once this is over.
The words stick to my mind, but I shove the thought down before it cats me alive. I can’t afford to spiral now, not with the damn ritual tomorrow.
By morning, the Omegas are already scattered like ants, running back and forth with fabrics, flowers, trays of food that all look too fancy for people like us to even touch.
I’m in the center of it, barking orders though I’ve done this my whole life–maybe I have, but in reality I’m just piecing it together so none of us gets chewed out later.
“Tully, masks.” My voice cuts through the chatter. I jab a finger toward the carved wooden box near the wall. “Make sure each one’s left outside their rooms by dawn. No mix–ups, unless you want warriors showing up to the ritual with mismatched faces p>
“Yes, boss,” Tully grins, too damn cheeky for her own good. She’s wiry, fast, and thinks making me roll my eyes counts as flirting.
“Marg, food prep. Double–check the herbs for the stew. No one wants to explain to the Alpha King why the wolves are shitting themselves in the middle of the full moon p>
A chorus of laughter ripples through the room. Even Marg smirks as she wipes her floury hands on her apron. “On it p>
I scan the rest, ticking names off in my head. Assignments are rattled off like bullets, and the Omegas nod, scatter, move. For a moment, it almost feels like I belong here. Almost.
When the chaos dies down, Tully sidles up behind me and pats my shoulder, “You don’t even look stressed, Sorin. Which is either a miracle or a straight–up lie p>
I arch a brow at her. “Stress doesn’t do me any favors. It just makes me want to strangle idiots faster p>
Marg snorts, stepping closer, flour dust clinging to her braid. “Take the night off/We need you alive and actually functioning tomorrow, not collapsing like a half–dead mule p>
“I’m fine.” I wave them off, but Marg crosses her arms, already in mother–hen/mode.
“No, you’re not,” she says firmly. “You’ve been running this whole thing on no sleep and sheer spite. Both run out p>
Tully’s grin widens, smiling cutely. “I know a place. Only Omegas go there. It’s kind of our secret p>
I narrow my eyes. “And why the hell would I need a secret spot right now p>
“Because you’re not really an Omega in this pack until you know it.” Her tone is mocking yet so genuine, baiting. I hate that it works.
Marg adds the dagger in. “He’s right. Go. Get out of my sight before I tie you to a chair. Directions, Tully p>
Tully leans in, voice dropping like it’s contraband information. “Straight down the servants‘ path. When you see the fork, turn left. Keep going until you hear water. Don’t freak out if the woods feel too quiet–it’s part of it. Trust me p>
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “If I get murdered, I’m haunting you both p>
Tully winks. “Wouldn’t be the first time a woman’s threatened me with that p>
I shake my head, muttering a curse under my breath as I grab a change of clothes. Fine. One damn night.
Chapter 31
The path is darker than I expected, the kind that swallows sound and makes my own breathing feel too loud. Branches scratch at my arms, and my bare feet crunch over damp soil. When the trees finally part, I stop dead in
Holy shit.
my tracks.
A lake stretches out before me, smooth as glass under the silver wash of moonlight. But it isn’t the water that makes me blink. It’s the fireflies. Hundreds–no, thousands–hover over the lake, flickering like the stars decided to come down and scatter themselves across the shore.
The air smells like wet grass and something faintly sweet. The silence here isn’t heavy–it’s… peaceful. Maybe Tully was right. Maybe I do need this.
I peel my clothes off slowly, shivering as the cool night air hits my skin. For once, no one’s looking. No eyes waiting to judge, to condemn, to strip me of more than fabric. Just me and the water.
The lake’s chill bites at my toes as I step in, ripples breaking the glassy surface. Goosebumps race up my arms, but once I’m waist–deep, the water hugs me, cooling the sweat and tension right off my skin. I dip under, hair slicking back, the world going quiet except for the muffled hum of my heartbeat.
When I surface, I lean back, floating, staring at the fireflies blinking against the sky. It feels too rare. Too good. Which of course means it won’t last.
Rustling.
I freeze. My body goes rigid, water lapping around me. My gaze cuts to the tree line. There–movement. Small.
I hold my breath until a fat squirrel darts out from the bushes, its tail twitching as it scurries off.
A sharp laugh escapes me, half relief, half nerves. “Scared of a fucking squirrel. Pathetic p>
I dunk my head again, trying to wash away the lingering paranoia. When I finally decide it’s enough, I wade toward the shore-
But something catches my eye.
A shadow moves on the far side of the lake.
I squint, heart hammering harder than it should. Shoulders. A back. Broad, sculpted, glistening with water under the moonlight.
Not just anyone’s.
My throat closes as he turns slightly, profile illuminated. Amber eyes flicker like molten gold across the distance.
No. No fucking way.
“Shit-“The sound rips from me, splashing as I stumble back in the water.
His head snaps. He heard me.
“I know you’re there,” I blurt, voice sharper than I intend.
For a beat, silence. Then, low, smooth, dangerously amused-
“ I didn’t think someone would follow me even here p>
Alaric.
My pulse slams in my ears. I’m moving before I think, scrambling out of the water, dragging my clothes on while my fingers.
Chapter 31
shake so bad I nearly rip the fabric.
I don’t look back. I can’t. If I meet those eyes again, I’ll drown before I hit the water.
Branches whip at my arms as I bolt into the trees, lungs clawing for air. I don’t even know which way I’m running. Tully’s directions are gone from my head. Left, right–fuck, I don’t know anymore.
The woods press in tighter, silence dropping over everything like a noose.
And I know–I’m not alone.
The air feels wrong. It’s far too still, too heavy. My instincts claw at me, telling me I’m not alone.
I stop moving, my boots sinking into damp earth as my lungs stall halfway through a breath. The clearing around me is silent–too fucking silent. Not even the usual chirp of crickets or distant rustle of nocturnal animals. Just… nothing.
And that’s when I feel it. The unmistakable prickle of eyes on me.
I slowly pivot, scanning the tree line. My heartbeat thunders, too loud in my ears, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Then-
A hand clamps over my mouth, cutting off my breath.
I thrash instantly, elbowing backward, my wolf screaming through my veins to rip whoever the hell dared touch me.
“Don’t,” a low male voice rasps against my ear, rough and sharp. “If you make a sound, the Alpha King will find you p>
Alaric.
My blood goes ice.
I freeze, panting against the stranger’s palm, my nails digging into his wrist to pry him off, but then I see it–just barely, glinting in the corner of my vision.
A silver ring.
Not just any silver. This one’s etched with strange markings I’ve never seen before, moonlight bouncing off its surface like it doesn’t belong in this world.
He feels me still, feels the fight leaking out of me when curiosity overtakes my panic. His hand doesn’t move until I nod once, sharp and quick, the only agreement I can give.
The stranger’s grip eases. He leans closer, breath hot against my ear. “Follow. Quietly p>
Something in me says not to trust him, but I do anyway. Maybe because I’m too fucking tired of fighting shadows, or maybe because the ring looks like a warning carved into metal.
He moves behind me, soundless for someone so solid, guiding me with just the weight of his presence at my back. My every step crunches against wet leaves, and the longer we walk, the heavier my chest feels.
By the time the tree line thins, I’m trembling–not from fear, but from the weight of knowing this isn’t over.
We break out of the woods. The clearing spills into the path that leads back to the packhouse. I blink against the moonlight, but when I glance over my shoulder-
He’s gone.
Chapter 31
The bastard who pulled me out of those cursed woods vanished like he was never there. My breath hitches, eyes darting around for a flicker of movement, a shadow, anything. Nothing. Just the forest yawning dark and endless.
“Shit,” I whisper under my breath, pulse skittering.
I take off running. My legs carry me back to the packhouse faster than I think they should, lungs burning, my hair whipping across my face. When the familiar structure looms out of the dark, I almost collapse against the stone wall in relief.
Inside, the halls are quiet, the pack asleep. I sneak into the bunkers and settle against the rough mattress, grabbing the notebook I’ve kept hidden under my pillow. My fingers shake as I scribble down everything–the silent forest, the ring, the way his voice crawled down my spine.
And Alaric.
God, the memory of him from earlier won’t leave me alone. That infuriating man, stepping out like sin wrapped in flesh, naked and unbothered, as if the gods crafted him to ruin what little sanity I had left. The cut of his shoulders, the ripple of muscle, the scars mapped across his skin–real, brutal, fucking beautiful.
Heat floods my face. I slam the notebook shut and bury it under my pillow before anyone sees how pathetic I am, journaling about a man who’d fuck me raw without asking twice.
I press my hands over my eyes and groan. “I’m losing my goddamn mind p>
Sleep doesn’t come easy. When it finally does, it’s restless, a haze of heat and half–formed dreams that make me want to scrub my own brain out with soap.
Morning comes too fast.
I jerk awake to a streak of sunlight spilling through the small window. Excitement surges even clicks into place. Full Moon Ritual.
in
my
chest before the memory
“Up,” I hiss, shaking the bodies sprawled across the bunker beds. “Get the hell up, all of you p>
Groans and curses echo back at me.
“Five more minutes,” one mumbles.
“Nope. Big day. We’re not missing it,” I snap, ripping blankets off.
“You’re too fucking chipper for someone who barely sleeps,” another grumbles, rolling over.
“Caffeine,” I lie. The truth is, nerves have me wired. My stomach churns with it, a mix of dread and something I don’t want
to name.
By the time we’re washed and dressed, the packhouse hums with activity. Banners are strung up, silver–threaded fabrics draped along balconies, tables laden with food being carried out. The real celebration won’t start until the moon rises, but already the air thrums with anticipation.
We’re herded to the gates. The head maid stands prim as ever, barking orders to straighten posture, fix collars. Victor, the old butler, takes his place by her side, eyes sharp as a hawk’s.
The announcer stands at the front, scroll in hand. Guests arrive one by one–some in sleek black cars, doors opening with practiced elegance, others padding in on four legs, shifting mid–step into pristine gowns or tailored suits.
“Why the difference?” I whisper to the head maid.
She doesn’t look at me, eyes fixed on the arrivals. “Some don’t want their dresses ruined. Some don’t want to arrive exhausted. It’s a matter of preference–and pride p>
13:09 Wed, Dec 31
Chapter 31
I nod, lips pressed together. Pride. Right. My pride got me chained in a dungeon once. What a joke.
1377
My eyes drift back to the endless stream of guests. Gold. Silver. Velvet. Perfume thick in the air. Laughter too polished to be
real.
I feel useless, standing here like a prop. When the crowd lulls, I take a step back, intending to slip away and actually help with something that matters.
I turn-
“Alpha Wade Thayer of Woodridge Pack,” the announcer booms, voice slicing through the air.
“And his betrothed Luna, Ariel Willow p>
I freeze.
My back is to them, every muscle in my body locking solid.
The ground tilts beneath me, heat draining from my face. My fists curl at my sides, nails digging into my palms.
Their names echo through the courtyard like a curse.
I don’t turn. I don’t breathe.
bBecause if I do–if I see them–I’m not sure I’ll survive what comes next.
色
Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.