Page 83 of Luna Rising

“Ewan’s trying to protect you, Zara.” Winter covered one of my hands with hers. “No one really knows what any of it means. Mom thinks the fae soulmates bond you guys have is what makes you the true alpha and Luna. Gaia-marked are two halves of a whole. Equal in power and strength. That’s why the Virgo wolves are pouring in. Ewan is the most powerful alpha, the true King of Wolves. And you as the Luna are just as powerful.”

“The King of Wolves has but one rival, and he will know her in his soul.” The words came from my lips, and no one was as surprised as me. They popped into my head without an accompanying image, but I knew where I’d heard them. “That’s what the royal seer said when King Orrin brought me to her. I think.”

“I’ve heard different variations of the saying from the elders,” Birch admitted. “The true alpha has but one enemy, and he will know her in his heart. I’ve also heard ‘he will feel her blade in his heart’, but that’s less common.”

“And Ewan knows all of this?” I sat back in my chair and folded my arms. “Fascinating.”

Honestly, I didn’t know how to feel toward Ewan. I was definitely furious, especially that I found out on the day of my father’s funeral. When I needed Ewan the most. I wanted him to hold me while I cried and then fuck me until I forgot why I was upset. But his lie put a damper on my plans for the day.

Instead of leaning on my mate, I stayed with Winter until Colleen and Walter returned and then went to the lodge to be with my family. After all, it wasn’t like Ewan even knew my father. How could he appreciate my loss? Except, well, even mad, I still saw logic. He had recently buried his alpha father, so Ewan appreciated my loss more than most. Still, it felt right to sit with my mom while she told stories about her life with her mate.

Gemini wolves gathered in her suite to pay their respects privately and listen to her talk. She cried, which surprised me. Mom never let herself be vulnerable. The pack cried with her, including me, and it felt good to let it out.

Not so long ago, my father’s death would have crippled me. Before I met Enzo and Hayden and fell down the eternal rabbit hole. I liked to tell myself it was because I was an emotionally stronger person. That I had grown the fuck up. Maybe I had. Or maybe I had just experienced too much death and devastation over the centuries, which I remembered thanks my liquid diet. Or, Essie might’ve upped the dose of calming magic in my bottled blood so I wouldn’t fall to pieces.

Whatever the case, the grief didn’t consume me. I embraced it. The guilt feeding on my intestines was still there. If I hadn’t gone through the portal, Kiernan wouldn’t have followed, and my father would still be alive. Yet not one Gemini wolf mentioned my part. No one wanted to talk about how he had died, only how he had lived.

His pack had loved him just as much as our family had, and that warmed my undead heart, when before it had made me mad. He’d touched their lives without even knowing it in some cases. My brother had one helluva legacy to live up to. Plus, he was going to father a child that could potentially unite the Gemini and Taurus packs permanently, if Ewan and I decided to end our immortal lives. That was a lot of pressure for a guy who probably needed Essie’s calming magic more than I did.

Ewan wasn’t at the house when I returned with Birch to get ready for the formal part of the day. I didn’t ask where he was or what he was doing, and Birch wisely didn’t even say his name. My trusty bodyguard/babysitter/fashion adviser had somehow found the time to have a dress sent for me to wear under my ceremonial robe.

“The blue flames are for your Gemini ancestry, and then the orange to represent your place in the Taurus pack. I would have asked, but I didn’t want to interrupt at the lodge,” Birch said as I admired the dress. It was mostly black, with the twisted flames only around the bottom hem.

“I love it. How did you get this made so fast?” The design was simple, but the dress was tailored to my measurements.

“Magic,” he deadpanned.

I squinted at the dress. “Like glamour?”

Birch shrugged. “Better if you don’t know. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

I took my time getting ready, luxuriating in my aloneness. Birch didn’t count since he was quiet and stayed in the kitchen, while I lounged in my bathtub and drank blood from a martini glass that I kept refilling. I drifted in and out of sleep. Zosia felt closer to me somehow, and I felt more like her than ever. Her father—my fae father—had died a few years after she became a wolf. By then, she had a family of her own—Enzo and their two children. Because Zosia was an alpha’s mate, she went to the funeral. Her sister wasn’t allowed.

The memories were sad, but I wanted to be sad, so I didn’t mind. I cried a few times, sobbing loud enough for Birch to have heard me. He didn’t come check on me, which I appreciated. I didn’t want comfort. I wanted my heart to bleed so it could start to heal.

Ewan found me in the tub, alarmed when he noticed the five empty bottles of blood on the tile floor. “Are you drunk?”

“No. High, I think. Essie’s magic is strong. Why didn’t you tell me this would happen?” I trailed my fingertips across the water’s surface, spreading the bubbles so Ewan could see my naked body. “I would ask you to join me, but I’m mad at you.”

This was not the moment for this fight, and a part of my brain realized that too late. I had planned to save this conversation for the following day, or at least after I said goodbye to my father.

“I know.” He sat on the edge of the tub. “I felt it. Until you started downing blood martinis. Do you want to talk about it now?”

My head felt heavy, so I let it fall back against the inflatable bathtub pillow. “Isn’t almost sunset?” I pointed to the window, where dying rays of light peeked through the curtains.

“The ceremony will start when we get there. So, do you want to talk about it now?” He used his alpha voice, which rankled my inebriated wolf.

I splashed water on him, annoyed. “No. I want to be sober so I can be properly mad at you. Now, I just want to be mean to you while you placate me because I’m grieving. I reserve the right to be mad and yell at you tomorrow. Oh, and this is between you and me. No one else. Got it?” I poked his chest with my wet, soapy finger.

His lips fought a smile, amusement clear in his expression. “Do your worst, Snyder.”

Because I was drunk on fae magic and Ewan’s blood, he helped me into my dress and brushed and dried my hair. He drew the line at makeup.

“You don’t need it. You’re beautiful without it,” he told me.

“You would say that,” I snapped back, hating that my wittiness had gone away with my sobriety. “Don’t just tell me what you think that I want to hear.”

“I’m placating you.”

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