CHAPTER 5: Three Days Before The Ceremony

Three days before the mating ceremony, Blackthorn Pack began preparing for a celebration I was not certain I would survive emotionally.

The packhouse transformed almost overnight.

Workers carried fresh flowers through the corridors. Long tables were moved into the ceremonial hall, and servants polished silver trays until they reflected the morning light. Outside, guards erected wooden frames for lanterns while young wolves practised the ceremonial dance on the training grounds.

Everyone was excited.

Everyone except me.

I stood on a ladder near the eastern entrance, tying a length of white fabric around a wooden beam. The material slipped from my fingers, and I had to catch it before it fell.

Below me, two workers argued about the placement of the decorations.

“The Alpha wants the silver ribbons along the main aisle,” one insisted.

“And Sienna wants white roses,” the other replied. “Apparently, the flowers must match her dress.”

I tightened the knot.

Sienna's dress.

Blake's announcement.

The ceremony that would decide who stood beside the Alpha as his chosen partner.

I had spent years imagining myself at Blake's side. Now I was decorating the very hall where he might publicly choose another woman.

There was something almost impressive about the cruelty of it.

“Nyla, are you listening?”

I looked down.

Mara stood beside the ladder, holding a bundle of ribbons.

“Sorry.”

She passed them to me.

“You've been staring at that fabric for five minutes.”

“I was thinking.”

“Dangerous habit.”

I smiled faintly.

Mara's expression softened.

“Have you heard anything from Blake?”

“No.”

“Has he spoken to the healer?”

“Not to me.”

“Then perhaps you should ask him.”

I tied another ribbon.

“And give him another chance to tell me that he knows nothing?”

“You could ask him what he has discovered.”

“That sounds suspiciously like the same conversation with different words.”

She sighed.

“I don't like watching you do this to yourself.”

“Do what?”

“Stand in the middle of your own heartbreak and pretend you're only tired.”

I looked away.

Below us, workers carried a wooden arch towards the ceremonial grounds. It was decorated with white roses and silver leaves. At the centre, someone had carved the Blackthorn crest.

The pack's symbol.

Its history.

Its pride.

Everything I had been taught to respect.

I wondered whether any of those people would remember the woman who spent three days helping prepare the place where she might be humiliated.

Or whether they would simply step around me when I fell.

“I don't know what to do, Mara,” I admitted.

She came closer to the ladder.

“You don't have to decide everything today.”

“What if Blake chooses Sienna?”

“Then you will know where you stand.”

“And if he doesn't?”

Mara studied me.

“Then you will have to decide whether the man you have been waiting for is actually the man you want.”

I stared at her.

It was an uncomfortable question.

I had spent so much time asking whether Blake would choose me that I had rarely considered whether I was choosing him freely, or simply holding on to the first person who had ever made me feel as if I might matter.

Before I could answer, a voice called from the courtyard.

“Move those flowers! The eastern entrance must be clear!”

Sienna appeared beneath the arch, dressed in a pale blue gown that looked far too elegant for someone supervising decorations.

She carried a small notebook and spoke to the workers with the confidence of a woman who already believed the pack belonged to her.

“No, not there. The roses should frame the entrance, not block it. And I want the lanterns moved closer together.”

One worker hesitated.

“Alpha Blake approved the current arrangement.”

“Then Alpha Blake will approve the new one.”

She glanced up and noticed me on the ladder.

“Nyla. You're still working?”

I kept tying the ribbon.

“That's generally what happens when someone is given a task.”

Her smile tightened.

“Good. Then you won't mind changing the entrance decorations. I want the silver fabric replaced with white.”

I looked at the fabric I had just finished securing.

“You can ask the supervisor.”

“I am asking you.”

“And I'm telling you to speak to the supervisor.”

The courtyard fell quiet.

Mara's eyes widened.

Sienna stared at me as though I had slapped her.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

She stepped closer to the ladder.

“Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?”

“Yes. Sienna Vale.”

“Then perhaps you should remember that.”

I descended the ladder carefully, keeping my hands on the sides until my feet touched the ground.

“I remember exactly who you are.”

Her face hardened.

“You've become rather bold lately.”

“Perhaps I've become tired.”

“Tired of what?”

“Being spoken to as if I'm less human than everyone else.”

A few workers suddenly found their tasks very interesting.

Sienna glanced around and lowered her voice.

“You should be careful. People might start thinking you believe you deserve more than you do.”

I held her gaze.

“Let them think whatever they want.”

For a moment, she seemed genuinely unsettled.

Then her expression changed into something colder.

“You think Blake will choose you because you've spent years following him around?”

My throat tightened.

“I have never followed him around.”

“No? Then why do you always look at him as if he owes you something?”

“I'm not having this conversation with you.”

“You should be grateful he has tolerated your attachment for so long.”

Mara stepped between us.

“That's enough, Sienna.”

Sienna's gaze snapped towards her.

“This has nothing to do with you.”

“It does when you insist on humiliating my friend.”

Sienna laughed softly.

“Humiliating her? I'm only telling her what everyone else is too polite to say.”

She turned back to me.

“The ceremony is three days away, Nyla. Whatever little fantasy you've built around Blake, you should put it aside before it embarrasses you.”

Then she walked away.

I stood motionless until she disappeared behind the ceremonial hall.

Mara touched my arm.

“Don't listen to her.”

“I wasn't planning to.”

“Good.”

But the truth was that Sienna had touched a fear I had carried for years.

Not that Blake might choose another woman.

That he might never have intended to choose me at all.

I finished the decorations without speaking much. By late afternoon, the ceremonial grounds were nearly ready. The silver ribbons shone in the fading light, and the white roses looked almost luminous against the dark wooden arch.

I stepped back to admire the work.

For a moment, I felt proud.

I had done something well.

Not because Blake might notice. Not because Sienna might approve.

Because I had taken a task and completed it with care.

The feeling was small, but it belonged to me.

I was gathering the remaining fabric when a guard approached.

“Nyla Graves?”

“Yes?”

“Alpha Blake requests your presence in his office.”

My stomach tightened.

“Did he say why?”

“No.”

The guard waited.

I put down the fabric and followed him.

Blake's office occupied the western side of the packhouse, overlooking the training grounds. I had been there many times over the years, usually to deliver documents or bring him food when he worked late.

The room had always felt familiar.

Today, it felt like a place where I might receive a sentence.

Blake stood behind his desk, studying a stack of papers. He looked up when I entered.

“Close the door.”

I did.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes.”

He gestured towards the chair opposite his desk.

I remained standing.

“What is this about?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he did not insist that I sit.

“The ceremony is approaching, and I need you to understand something.”

I folded my hands in front of me.

“I'm listening.”

“The next few days will be difficult. There will be visitors from other packs, and the council will be watching closely.”

“I'm aware.”

“Good. Then you understand why I need everyone to behave appropriately.”

I stared at him.

“Everyone?”

His expression became guarded.

“I am speaking to you because I don't want you caught in the middle of matters you don't understand.”

I almost laughed.

“Is that what you told Councilman Darius?”

His face changed.

“Why are you bringing him into this?”

“Because I heard you talking about my pendant.”

He walked around the desk.

“Nyla, we have discussed this.”

“No. You told me you would find out what was happening. You didn't tell me what you already knew.”

He stopped a few feet away.

“I cannot give you answers I don't have.”

“Then tell me what you do know.”

Silence.

I felt the old familiar ache rising in my chest.

“You keep asking me to trust you,” I continued, “but every time I ask you a question, you remind me that I'm not important enough to understand the answer.”

“That is not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean, Blake?”

He looked towards the window.

For a moment, he seemed almost exhausted.

“There are people who would use your ignorance against you.”

“Then help me become less ignorant.”

His gaze returned to mine.

Something in his expression softened, but it did not last.

“I am trying to keep you out of trouble.”

“I didn't ask you to protect me from the truth.”

He looked as though he wanted to say something.

Instead, he reached for a small envelope on his desk.

“The council has requested a review of certain pack records. I need you to stay away from the archive room until the review is finished.”

I frowned.

“What records?”

“Old records.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

The answer landed between us like a slap.

I stared at him.

“You called me here to tell me not to enter a room?”

“I called you here because I don't want you stumbling into something dangerous.”

“Then perhaps you should explain what makes it dangerous.”

He pressed his lips together.

I took a slow breath.

“Is this about my mother?”

Blake's hand tightened around the envelope.

I saw it.

The smallest movement, but enough.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because every time I mention her, you look as if you wish I hadn't.”

He said nothing.

I nodded.

“I see.”

“Nyla—”

“No. You don't have to explain. You have already made it clear that you won't.”

I turned towards the door.

“Wait.”

I stopped but did not face him.

“The ceremony is in three days,” he said. “Whatever happens, I need you to remain calm.”

I turned slowly.

“Whatever happens?”

He seemed to realise his mistake.

“It's an expression.”

“Is it?”

He looked away.

I left without another word.

Outside, the evening air was cool. The last sunlight rested on the rooftops, and the scent of roses drifted from the ceremonial grounds.

I walked until I reached the far side of the courtyard, where the noise of preparation faded behind me.

Then I sat on a low stone wall and pulled the pendant from beneath my blouse.

My mother's face rose in my memory.

I remembered her sitting beside my childhood bed, brushing my hair away from my forehead. I remembered the way she used to check the windows before telling me stories. I remembered her hands trembling whenever I asked about my father.

And I remembered the night she gave me the pendant.

Her voice had been weak.

“Whatever anyone tells you, Nyla, you are not a mistake.”

I had been too young to understand why she said it.

Now the words returned with painful clarity.

You are not a mistake.

I closed my fingers around the silver crescent.

“What were you trying to tell me?” I whispered.

The pendant warmed.

A sudden rush of sensation swept through my body. For a moment, the courtyard seemed to tilt, and the sounds around me grew distant.

I heard a howl.

This time, it was unmistakable.

It was deep and powerful, filled with a loneliness so profound that my eyes burned.

Then came a second sensation.

Not a voice.

Not words.

A presence.

Something within me pressed against the boundaries of my consciousness, as if it had been waiting in darkness for someone to call its name.

I gasped and dropped the pendant.

It struck the stone wall but did not break.

The sensation vanished.

I sat frozen, my hands trembling.

Three days remained before the ceremony.

Three days before Blake might make a decision that would change my place in Blackthorn forever.

But for the first time, I understood that the ceremony might not be the only thing approaching.

Something was waking inside me.

And whatever it was, it had been waiting far longer than I had.