Chapter 249
249
Third Person’s POV
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After a commotion filled with low growls and the rustling of fur, it seemed Priscilla had taken her seat.
Then, the Warscar Training Camp requested another stone throne be brought in for Irene and Klein to sit and receive Adelaide and Lance’s “tributes.”
Traditionally, Adelaide should have bid farewell to her ancestral spirits under the moonlight in her birth pack before joining her mate’s territory.
How could Lance show reverence to her mentor in his own Blackthorn Pack?
This defied werewolf tradition.
Klein’s deep, authoritative voice boomed like a wolf king’s growl, “In the name of the Moon Goddess and bloodline, I am Lance’s mentor, guiding him to harness power. Why shouldn’t Laccept his tribute?”
Who cared about archaic traditions?
In the wild, power was law, and the strong made the rules.
Klein’s logic was unassailable. As Lance’s mentor, he sat on the stone throne symbolizing power, representing the source of Lance’s strength–a rightful and legitimate place.
Side by side, they stood before the blazing wolf smoke and towering totem pole.
A sense of familiarity washed over Adelaide. Almost instinctively, she turned toward the silver moon, quietly prompting Lance, “We need to face the moonlight.”
Lance smoothly turned, his voice calm yet undeniably commanding: “Follow the Moon Goddess’s lead.”
Adelaide immediately fell silent, realizing her’slip.
He was a formidable Alpha warrior, favored by royalty, and his mating partner was a she–wolf who’d once had a mate–undoubtedly a sacrifice.
Better not to dwell on past rituals.
Adelaide was guided toward the chamber reserved for mating pairs.
The journey in darkness felt interminably long, the ground uneven, her senses filled with the scents of soil, moss, and the Blackthorn Pack’s intense pheromones.
Inside the room, Lance would help her remove her veil.
The Royal Elder chanted ancient blessings, and the Blackthorn Pack’s square erupted in a deafening chorus of howls, the pack’s collective blessing and celebration.
She would wait in the warm room, while he ventured out to face challenges and receive well–wishes. When the bonfire feast reached its peak, they would reappear together to accept the pack’s
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congratulations.
This process felt oddly familiar.
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Sure enough, after the Royal Elder finished his chant, Ivy reminded Lance to remove Adelaide’s veil.
Lance noticed his fingers were trembling ever so slightly.
Eye contact was immediate, both struck by mutual fascination.
Time seemed to freeze, even the crackling of pine torches fading away.
They gazed into each other’s eyes, seeing the other’s image clearly–a primal, overwhelming beauty beyond expectations.
Breath instinctively held, only the wolf–like heartbeat throbbed loudly, drowning out the external winds.
Lance’s heart pounded like a war drum, quickening and deepening.
His gaze, like a wolf locking onto prey, was ardent and unwavering, fixed upon her face.
She today was unlike any he’d seen before.
Moonlight seemed to drape her in silver, softening her usual sharpness, making her appear otherworldly, like a spirit from the depths of the Moon Goddess’s forest.
She radiated an icy glow and fatal allure, akin to a white wolf basking lazily yet dangerously in the full moon’s light.
Adelaide was equally captivated.
Before her stood Lance, more dazzling than ever.
He’d shed his usual battle–worn armor for the mating ceremony attire.
Far from diminishing his handsomeness, it accentuated his towering, pine–straight figure, brimming with raw, potent vitality.
His aristocratic elegance remained, yet any trace of cold aloofness was gone. His once–hawk–like eyes now held nothing but naked, tender warmth.
He stood there, firelight dancing on his chiseled features, embodying the mortal form of the god of strength.
They locked eyes, cheeks flushed from the intense emotional collision and surging blood, neither willin to look away first.
A strange, powerful resonance flowed between them in that silent exchange–was it soul–to–soul attraction?
Bloodline resonance?
Or the Moon Goddess’s blessing?
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They all truly felt the tremor of a deep connection.
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Their moment was interrupted by a voice from outside, “Alpha Lance, Luna Adelaide, the guests are eager to offer their blessings and share in your mated glory.”
Before she could react, the door swung open, and a wave of heat carrying a cacophony of growls, excited howls, and footsteps surged in.
What warmed Adelaide’s heart was the sight of Pasley, Angela, and Evie – always with that blood–stained leather cord around his neck–standing shoulder–to–shoulder at the front, forming a solid human shield.
The guests behind could only offer their blessings from beyond this four–person barrier.
“By the Moon Goddess! May your bloodline endure!”
“Never seen a more compatible pair! Your union shall bear the strongest pups!”
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