Page 97 of Moonlit Fate

“Always,” he said.

“Then let us prepare,” I said, lifting my chin. “For tonight, and the lunar eclipse, we honor the past and arm ourselves for the future.”

Eldan’s hand found mine, his grip firm yet filled with the tremors of our shared loss.

“Can we be there with you? For the ritual?” Seren’s voice, usually so light and teasing, now carried our grim reality.

“Yes,” I answered. It was more than giving permission; a plea for their presence.

“Thank you,” Eldan said.

We madeour way through the remnants of war, where the fallen had been brought to lay in silent proof of the brutality of our existence. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of crimson and gold as if it, too, mourned the passing of Ragnar. My father, the alpha who had led us through the bad times and the good.

The pack gathered, a sea of faces awash with grief, their bodies huddled for warmth against the chill of impending night. I stepped forward, my feet rooted to the sacred ground that would now cradle my father’s body.

My words carved through the silence, each syllable a tribute to the man who had shaped my very being.

“Ragnar taught us to be fierce in love and in war.” I allowed the passion that always simmered beneath my skin to bleed into my speech. “He showed us that strength is not just the might of the claw and fang, but the courage to stand tall in the face of despair.”

As I spoke, memories of my father—his laughter, his wisdom, his unyielding spirit—danced across my mind.

“Let us honor him as he lived—proud and unbroken.” I lifted my face to the horizon, where the last light of day caressed the tips of the trees, setting them aflame with a solemn beauty.

“Tomorrow, we rise anew, bearing the legacy he has left us. But tonight, we lay to rest a great soul. May the earth be gentle on your slumber, Father.”

The pack bowed their heads, their whispers of mourning rising into howls of grief. I vowed to carry on Ragnar’s legacy, not just as his daughter, but as the alpha who would lead our pack into the dawn.

The silence that followed was profound, filled with shared sorrow. I exhaled slowly, allowing myself to envision the way ahead. It was fraught with challenges, but I was ready to meet them with the ferocity of a true alpha.

Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath us, a deep rumbling that snatched away all calm. An earthquake gripped the land with unforgiving hands, shaking the solemnity of our mourning into disarray. I stumbled, unprepared, but strong arms enveloped me, steadying my stance.

Atticus held me close, his presence a pillar. “Steady, love. It’s passing,” he said against my ear.

As the trembling subsided, I turned in his arms, my eyes locking with his. “The eclipse,” I said, the urgency clear in my tone.

With the countdown nearly zero, the pressure to complete our extensive to-do list was yet another burden on my already-heavy shoulders. Time was running out. If we didn’t know all our parts in the ritual by now, we were too late. We had to trust we’d been given enough information.

Atticus nodded, understanding. He released me but stayed by my side, ready to face whatever the prophecy demanded of us.

“Rumors have been slinking through our ranks,” I said to the pack. “Whispers of a prophecy, unspoken and feared. No longer.” I looked across the sea of faces, absorbing the thrum of their collective curiosity. “From this day forth, there will be no secrets that fester. We are a family, bound by blood and bond, and it’s time we honor every part of ourselves.”

I paused, allowing the sincerity of my words to seep into their hearts. “Our gifts, our powers, they are not curses to be hidden in shame, but abilities to be honed and celebrated. Our struggles and weaknesses make us who we are. They give us the courage to rise above. We will emerge from this grief stronger and more united than ever before.”

A hush fell over the crowd. My heart hammered, echoing the rhythm of impending change.

“The prophecy is real,” I said. “My father knew it—and yes, he feared it at first—but then he accepted its inevitability. It is a path laid out for us. One we must tread with both reverence and tenacity.

“Tonight, under the eclipse, I will perform a ritual, an ancient rite that promises to fortify the magic that pulses through the veins of our land, support the forest that shelters us, and empower our pack beyond measure.” I swallowed hard. “I won’t pretend to understand all its intricacies, but I do know this: it is essential for the safety of us all.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, a mixture of awe and apprehension. But beneath it all, there was hope that refused to be snuffed out by fear.

“Trust in me, as you trusted in my father. Tonight, we face our calling not as scattered individuals but as an indomitable pack, united by the bonds of kinship and the desire to protect what is ours.”

With those words, I solidified my vow to them, to myself. I would lead with passion, with empathy, guided by the memory of my father and the unyielding love that tied me to these lands and to Atticus, whose presence promised that I would never have to face the darkness alone.

The murmurs of the pack seemed to blend with the rustling leaves above.

“Thank you,” said an elder, “for your courage.”

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