Deep Sea Betrayal

PART 1: Elias and Amy

Elias

The true mate ceremony that I'm supposed to be a part of has almost begun by the time I make my way to the clearing. The light of the impending full moon guides me until I set eyes on the bonfire, but with every step I take, I hesitate. I know that once I step forward into the ring of firelight, there'll be no going back.

From a few paces away, I see the fire crackle, sending sparks dancing into the night, casting flickering shadows on the faces of my pack. They stand in a loose circle, a congregation of the people I've known my whole life. But two faces in particular make me stop dead in my tracks.

At the edge of the crowd, my parents stand, and I can't help but notice my father's arm clamped tightly around my mother's waist. To anyone else this might seem like a gesture of affection -- certainly that's how it's intended to look -- but I know better. Even by the dim light of the fire I can see the strained expression on my mother's face, the grimace that pulls at the corners of her mouth and eyes.

For a second I wonder what kind of woman she was before she was forced into a mate bond with my father. Her long dark hair is thin and wispy now, her black eyes dull, her smile strained. But I know I get my looks from her -- I have the same long dark hair, though mine is thick and lustrous, the same black eyes are sharp and penetrating.

It makes my heart break to think of the life she could have had if she hadn't gone through the ceremony I'm about to go through.

For a second, I want to run -- to leave this all behind and escape the same fate as my parents. But before I can, my father's eyes flicker over to me.

"Elias!" he calls, and the entire pack hears his too-loud voice. His blue eyes flash at me, his salt and pepper hair catching the firelight. His lips curl into a harsh smile that shows his canines.

Suddenly a hundred eyes are on me and I know it's too late.

"Come on boy, you're holding up the ceremony!" he exclaims in a jovial voice that thinly veils a warning.

I hate it when he calls me 'boy'. I'm 24 years old and haven't lived with my parents for years, but I fight down the scowl that threatens to emerge.

Instead, I nod curtly and take a few final steps toward the circle. I know better than to speak back to my father, especially in front of the whole pack. He might not be Alpha anymore but he still holds enough sway in this group that I'd be cast out the second I opened my mouth. Loyalty is, after all, the most important trait of a werewolf.

To avoid the gaze of the pack and the murmurs about my tardiness, I look up to the sky, letting my eyes rest on the almost full moon for a moment. Just the sight of it stirs the wolf in me. Already, I feel that familiar sense of expansion that comes when I turn but that won’t be happening tonight. Tonight it’s my human side’s turn.

Damien, our Alpha, and my older brother, steps forward, his commanding presence silencing the muttering pack. Even my father quietens down. His eyes, the same black as mine and my mother's, scan the eager faces gathered around the fire. 

“Thorntrees!” Damien calls out, and we all beat our chests in response to the name of our pack. “We gather under the watchful eye of the impending moon to ready five young hearts for their destined mates.”

His words resonate through the clearing, a mixture of reverence and excitement palpable in the air. The pack members nod in agreement, their anticipation building like a storm on the horizon.

But for me, the words send a tendril of dread through my heart. 

I steal a glance around, catching the eyes of my pack members for the first time. There's a warmth in their smiles, an expectation that dances in the firelight. I wonder how many of them really buy into this and how many, like me, just have to go along with it because there's no other option. I steal a glimpse at my mother again and she catches my eye. A moment of pain flashes in her gaze but it's replaced just as quickly with a reassuring smile. She knows, as well as I do, this is just the way of the wolf. 

I glance around the pack again, seeing several coy smiles on the faces of female pack members. I know they’re each wondering which of them will be chosen by fate to bond with the new eligible bachelors. I can only shake my head though — the thought of a true mate being revealed in some ancient ceremony is absurd to me. If I was going to fall in love with any of these women, I would have done that by now. 

I know though, that defying these traditions would mean getting kicked from the pack and a wolf without a pack is as good as dead when there are rival packs lurking in the shadows.

Damien's voice, a commanding melody, cuts through my internal struggle.

"The first step of the ritual begins tonight."

I try to clear the frown that has settled on my face as I step out of the crowd to join the four others. As I do, I feel several pack members clap me on the back in a show of camaraderie, but I barely manage a grimace in response.

Each of those hands, I know, is wishing me luck and congratulations in reaching this rite of passage — the same rite of passage they all went through at my age. But I can’t help but bristle at their touch.

As I catch sight of the other four men though, I see I’m the only one who doesn’t want to be there. The other four — Seth, Adrian, Max, and Sebastian — wear excited smiles, even if tinged with a hint of trepidation. They are the hopeful, the ones destined to drink a potion meant to unveil their true mates. And I, unfortunately, find myself among them.

“We begin this ceremony in our human forms,” Damien continues, and I catch a flash of his eyes on me, as if he senses my uncertainty. “Both human side and wolf side must be tied in the mating bond.”

He rambles on some more about eternal love and soul bonds, but I’m barely listening. My eyes are fixed only on the chalice he holds in his hand, knowing that its content will seal my fate and force me to follow in the footsteps of everyone I know, whether I like it or not.

“Take this cup,” Damien is saying, and I suddenly snap back to attention.

The line moves forward, a slow progression toward an uncertain destiny. My turn comes, and I step up to the makeshift altar, the potion before me like a vessel of fate. Damien gives me a stare — not just the stare of a brother, but the stare of my Alpha, commanding me to drink.

I know, despite my misgivings, I have no choice. I tip the cup to my lips and with eyes screwed shut, I drink.

The liquid burns down my throat, a warmth spreading through me like a subtle flame. A bitter taste settles in my mouth as the potion becomes a symbol of choices stripped away.

As I step aside, Damien continues with his closing words.

“These five men are now on the path to forming the next generation of Thorntree families. Under the full moon, when their wolf selves take this same elixir, their true mates will be revealed and the pack will live on!”

At this point, the entire crowd erupts into a cheer, fists raised, or else beating on their chests. Every fist except mine.

That's when it hits me—a sudden, urgent need to escape. The pressure of commitment, the weight of tradition, bears down on me. The notion of being compelled to find a mate within the confines of our pack, dictated by ancient customs, doesn't sit well with my restless spirit.

I cast one more glance over my shoulder at the unfolding ritual. The firelight dances on the faces of my pack, their expressions a mixture of hope and anticipation. Without a word, I turn away, moving into the inky darkness that beckons beyond the fire's glow. I only hope my father doesn't notice until I'm already long gone.