Page 47 of Fated Exile

Then someone tries, "Two alphas!"

"Glass Pack!"

Roarke murmurs in my ear, "I think the drinking has begun."

There's no doubt of that. I find myself bending down to take more and more tokens from the pack as they step forward one by one to toss something at our feet or hand something over. A few give herbs and tributes for the fire. I take them all, brushing up against their feelings and murmuring my thanks. My voice is swallowed by the growing fervor of the crowd. The full moon is nearly at its apex, and soon Roarke will be binding himself to the pack. I'll follow, and then it will be time for the mating ceremonies.

I try not to think of what comes then.

Or how many times it's coming.

First I'm taking a handful of tributes from someone I dimly recognize from childhood. Then I'm stepping off the platform, and someone else is handing me a huge cup of punch. I've barely drunk my first pull when Finn pulls me into the crowd, swooping me up to dance with a grin on his face. My punch spills on the front of his shirt, and I can barely hear his voice over the music that's started somewhere, spilling from an electronic speaker.

Some of the punch winds up in my mouth, and it fills me with warmth. Then I'm passed off, suddenly holding hands with Kieran as the music switches to something jaunty. He kisses my cheek and murmurs in my ear, "Don't go too fast, or you'll slosh that punch right back out again."

I'm laughing, and then I'm sliding into Lance's arms, and Finn is standing in front of me. There are warm lips on the back of my neck, and hands on my hips. My eyes flutter closed and I fall into the sensation, letting the eerie light from the pack flame lick away the darkness all around me.

A few songs and drinks later, I find Bastian at the edge of the circle, uncertain what to do. An old werewolf folk song starts playing, and we all laugh, but his face is full of confusion. So I take his hand and drag him into the crowd. Together with the others, we show him how to step back and slide, teach him when to howl and kick his feet up.

After a few more songs, Roarke is there, and I'm pressed up against his chest as a slow song brings us to the pinnacle moment.

"It's there," he murmurs, glancing up towards the full moon. His eyes are soft and his mouth full as he looks back down at me. "Ready?"

"No," I admit.

"Too bad. It's going to happen anyway." He drops a kiss on my mouth, our tongues twining, the taste of punch mingling back and forth. "It'll only take a minute. All we have to do is—"

"Put our hands in the pack flame and speak the sacred oath. I know." Raising my brow, I remind him, "I am the alpha's daughter, after all."

Roarke chuckles. "Right."

The song ends, and there's a poignant silence. Kieran wishes me good luck; Finn slides forward to press a kiss to my cheek. Bastian watches with worried eyes, and Lance gives me an encouraging nod. Looking out into the darkness, I know Cat and Kerry are somewhere out there, watching with bated breath just outside the circle.

I wish they were here beside me. Well, at least for this part. I was serious when I told Cat that I don't want her here for what happens next.

My feet feel glued to the ground, but thankfully Roarke isn't similarly incapable. He draws me up onto the platform again and takes a step forward. I watch from a few feet away, heart squeezing, as he steps in front of the flame.

The moon crests above us, and the pack begins to chant, their voices low at first and then louder.

"Lun-is! Lun-is! Lun-is! Lun-is!"

Their voices have an odd, eerie tone to them that slides over my skin and seems to cling to me. Swallowing, Roarke reaches out his right hand and shoves it into the flame. He grimaces away from the light as it flares, hot and bright enough to throw the entire circle and its surroundings into shadow.

"I pledge myself to the pack." His voice is quiet, but it rings out loudly in the sudden, hushed silence. "The blood of my people is my blood. Their troubles are mine to carry, their hungry bellies mine to fill. If they wither and die on the vine, so shall I. Until the day I am dead or the day they revile me, I will watch over them, lead them, and keep them safe. This I pledge to the elders who watch! This I swear to the moon above!Lunis!"

The flame douses at the last word, throwing us all into darkness. A mere second later it shoots up, its shape thin and long this time. Warping and twisting, it wraps around Roarke's right arm and tightens around his skin. He hisses through his teeth as it sinks in, the runic pack tattoo flaring bright blue for a brief moment, then dissipating.

As soon as it's over, the flame burns bright again, licking happily across the belly of the bowl that holds it. Roarke shakes out his hand, staring at his wrist with an odd expression. He cocks his head to the side just slightly, then looks down at me with wide eyes.

"Is that what it's like for you?"

The pack has started chanting again, wildly yelling,”Lun-is! Lun-is!"I frown at Roarke, asking, "What is what like?"

"Hearing their thoughts. Their emotions." He shakes his head, like there's pool water in his ear canal that he's trying to get out. "I feel like the television is on in the other room, and I can't turn it off. Though at least I know that they're pleasantly drunk and deliriously happy, instead of sad and miserable."

Reaching out my awareness, I sense the same thing as him, and it fills me with a great deal of relief. As I point out, "They've seen the pack flame rise again, saw the Mating Circle repair itself, and have been slipped more than a few glasses of Cat's punch. I have no idea what tomorrow will be like, but for today, at least, we have them on our side."

"Yeah." His brows draw together, and then he grins. "Yeah! Your turn, Delilah."

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