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There is something eerie about caves. The rocks carved out around you by water and wind over thousands of years. The temple is built over this cave system, we descended what felt like miles of stone stairs to arrive at the cave mouth. My body aches from the journey and my activities before. “Remove your robe.” One of the priestesses says to me. These are the first words they have uttered since escorting me to the temple as the Immaculate Mother demanded. I comply, resigned to following along. “These are the sacred springs of Selene. It is said the minerals hold the dreams of Endymion’s endless sleep; the water, the tears of the Goddess for her lover’s endless slumber.” Another priestess explains leading me toward the pool. “This is a ceremonial bath to cleanse you so the Immaculate Mother may see your path.” I suppress the fear rising like bile from my stomach. My mother warned me that the priestesses can detect witches. “We are one. We will push past.” Theia assures me in my mi
There is a hollowness to temples that I enjoy. The smooth white stone floors and endless smooth white walls reaching the massive domed ceiling that must be hung from the sky, it’s so far out of reach. The walls have the same glowing quality of the moon, so finely polished and sparkling. The ceiling depicts the different events of the ancient texts and the phases of the moon are cut in skylights in the sanctuary. The scale is considerably more modest as we walk towards the dining area, the ceiling a less impressive height of an Oak tree. Tall and majestic, but not otherworldly. The walls, still smooth and white, but dotted with official portraits of Immaculate Mother’s from long ago. The fashion unchanged with time, white robe after white robe, the same serene expression. Two doors open and we arrive at the dining hall. The long table is already full of white robed priestesses, perfectly silent standing like pawns on a chessboard behind their chairs, unable to move a space forward. No
“Isn’t it fascinating?” Dmitry asks. I’m at the helm of the stove, my only focus, the collection of bubbling pots in front of me. “Hmm?” I say in response. “That the monarchy forces an exam before allowing anyone in the line of succession to marry their mate.” He says. His tone indicates he has said this exact phrase before, my attention on stews and bread not mates and weddings. “Is it? Elites marry elites, if they can help it. What are the percentages anyways?” I ask. “The process is steeped in mystery.” He says dramatically. “We don’t even know what the process is, let alone how many fail trying to make it through. All we know is when a marriage happens, she must have passed.” “Why do they even waste time teaching this in school if they are not going to teach it?” I ask. “Oh, they don’t teach it, exactly. They teach that the women of the line are deemed worthy by both the Goddess and the ancient rituals of the Kingdom. This ritual is designed to test the worthiness of the can
“Upon the full moon that our Alpha is given his mate, Destiny reveals our Alpha’s fate. For an Alpha born under the approval of the stars, Leads our people righteously in all regards. A mate must pass the Trials to demonstrate their strength, A true Luna will go to any length. Demonstrate the truth of the bond and strength of body and spirit, The ability to pass is destiny- do not fear it! As the Goddess guides, We shall abide! As the wolf controls and the spirit is guided only by honesty, The spirit illuminates the truths we only know subconsciously. To heart and soul Threads bind and make whole. Devotion to the Goddess or to her Alpha mate, The outcome of the trials will determine her fate. “ The Order of the Kingdom of the Moon: Luna Trials I hear the echoes of steps in the stone hallway outside my door before my eyes even dare to open. I look toward the ceiling to the small square window for a shaft of light. Dawn is not yet splashing her colors across the s
The priestesses submit. Even the most steadfast of them eventually break. Their necks all bared to me. Theia hums in gratification. The Immaculate Mother is the first to shift back into her womanly form. She makes no effort to shield her body from me. She stands in her naked glory, no shame on her face, head held high. “There has not been a wolf from the Celestial Alpha line in centuries. The texts say the last wolf of the line waits for their match, which will only come when our true leader, the defender of the faith, is found.” The Immaculate Mother tells me. “Are you trying to say that is you? You are our awaited deliverer?” She says, voice full of doubt. “Impossible!” She studies my wolf. She is searching for something, but I do not know what. I tilt my head trying to understand. She grabs her robe and puts it on. She flips furiously through an ancient book placed on the altar. She abruptly stops, seemingly finding what she was so desperately searching for. “Here!” She shou
“Higher purpose.” I muse. I have read enough religious texts to know that saviors and saints are just martyrs by another name. “May I read the texts, Immaculate Mother?” I ask, seeking clarity. “Once married and sealed to Prince Edward of Fives, you will have access to all sacred texts of the pack. You are not a member of the pack, so you may not read the prophecies and divinations of the Oracles.” She replies sternly. “When shall I become a member?” I inquire. “Once Prince Edward of Fives accepts you within the temple and seals himself to you.” She says. “He will be told of your current success.” She assures. “Your identity as the last wolf of the Celestial Alpha Line will not be discussed until it is confirmed by your marking. You will know my child by the mark they make when they lay claim, A full moon with a sword emblazoned with Selene’s name.” She recites effortlessly. “Was my crescent mark and alpha command not enough?” Theia’s voice rages through me and out of my mouth. A
The ocean has always fascinated me. Dmitry would often carve me sea creatures he would see in books at school. He always felt his birds were more authentic because he was able to see them with his own eyes, rather than the depiction of a creature from another artist’s eyes. I would playfully disagree, always beaming with happiness to be able to run my fingers along the ridges of fins and scales. The dress reminds me of the sea. A deep endless blue, always in motion, tumultuous and wild. The dress has long sleeves and is tightly fitted to my bodice. The boat neck, a nod to innocence and purity. The skirt is full and glides with a swish across the floor. I braid my hair and coil it into a chignon. I look into the mirror. My reflection is strikingly similar to my mother. An irksome resemblance. The similarities are only amplified by my attire. Perfect porcelain doll dress. Perfectly coiffed and painted. The delicate wing of eyeliner and softly pink blushed cheeks. The playfully pink li
My eyes squeeze closed tightly. Small steadying breaths. I stop just short of the main dining room door. I must remain composed. Perhaps tonight is the next trial. Winning the acceptance of the King. A man who I have grown to hate for all that he is and all that he represents. Slavery. Pain. Starvation. Abuse. The King knows nothing of this. He lives in excess. In luxury. A table piled high with food for only a few nibbles to be taken. Far more interested in wine and women, rather than famine and fatigue. “Try to not openly sneer.” Asteria snorts. “Royalty do not care for that. They prefer open and exaggerated adoration.” “I’m not sure I’m capable of that.” I murmur. Remember Dmitry. In the end, it is all for him and his salvation. Him reclaiming what's ours by birthright. The true alpha of the pack. My destiny became forever tied to his the day our father died. “I’m sorry love, but your daddy is gone.” I remember Agatha whispering to me. Her tone was laden with grie