CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

The town hall smelled like polished wood, lavender oil, and mint, but just like almost every other building in this pack, the architecture looked like something my parent’s pack would spend their entire finances on just to achieve half of its beauty.

Grand, tall windows let in long ribbons of sunlight that made the room look soft, polished mahogany wood served as pillars for the circular hall, at the head of the hall were two chairs placed higher than others.

Every elder sat in their designated carved chair, wearing long white beads on their necks while warriors stood along the back wall and pack members filled the benches.

And every single one of them looked… normal.

Normal.

But not everyone was here. It was weird. Outside the town hall, the pack looked like it was bustling with life as every member of the pack moved about doing their daily activities and inside hall? 

It looked like every one cramped themselves in to attend whatever was happening.

As if last week wasn’t a near-death rollercoaster that left me gagging in terror. As if today wasn’t some alternate reality where they all pretended my memories were N*****x fiction.

The doors creaked shut behind me, and suddenly the air felt too heavy.

My wolf who’d been tense all morning, but still reminding me of her presence suddenly went quiet.

Completely quiet.

Like someone had pressed a mute button inside my skull.

Hello? I called out internally.

Nothing.

Her silence chilled me more than anything else in the room.

Was I about to return to being wolfless? What was the story about the white wolf then! Am I hallucinating?

Grandma stood near the center, dressed in a silver-toned gown with embroidery that shimmered like moonlight. Her eyes softened instantly as she spotted me.

“Emily,” she called gently, opening her arms.

I forced myself forward, my boots making dull thuds against the polished floor. The moment her fingers touched my shoulders, warmth spread through me, not Luna supernatural warmth, just… grandmother warmth. Human, comforting, confusing warmth.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” she said, smiling as she adjusted the crooked hem of my shirt like nobody in the room mattered except me. “Are you alright, dear?”

A hundred eyes watched. Matteo - my grandfather - was nowhere to be found, same with Bella.

I swallowed my entire emotional crisis down like rotten medicine.

“I’m fine,” I lied smoothly. “Just needed a moment.”

A few elders nodded approvingly, like emotional stability was a checkbox I’d passed.

Grandma slipped her arm through mine and guided me forward toward the center circle. “You look lovely,” she whispered.

I looked like a gremlin who’d lost a fight with a laundry basket, but sure. Lovely was fine.

A hush fell over the hall as she stepped forward to address the crowd.

“Pack of Silvercrest,” she announced warmly, “today we gather to formally welcome my granddaughter, Emily, as an officially recognized member of the Alpha’s family.”

A scattered applause rose. Gentle. Reserved. Polite.

My heart thudded weirdly.

Elder Thorian stood, his voice booming even without effort. “We honor blood, lineage, and legacy. Today, we honor the child returned to us. Though she has endured much, she stands here as one of ours.”

I smiled shakily, praying no one noticed how my palms were sweating like they were training for the Olympics.

Another elder spoke. Another blessing. Another welcoming line.

All of it normal.

Too normal.

Like this was just a sweet family ceremony and not a masterclass in psychological warfare where the cast insisted last week’s chaos didn’t exist.

I kept my face neutral, inhaling deep breaths of lavender-scented air and pretending this was fine. Perfectly fine.

My wolf still refused to speak.

When it was Grandma’s turn again, she squeezed my hand.

“Emily, dear,” she murmured softly, “step forward.”

I obeyed, moving into the center circle marked by glowing runes.

A ceremonial cloth was placed around my shoulders. Someone tied a silver thread bracelet around my wrist as a sign of bloodline belonging. One of the elders traced something cold across my forehead in the shape of a crescent moon.

I bowed my head politely, hoping no one could hear how hard my pulse was pounding.

Then came the recitations, the vows, the welcoming phrases in the old language, the introductions to the council. I repeated what I was told, smiled when expected, bowed slightly when an elder approached.

I should have felt honored.

Instead, I felt like I was standing in a theater where everyone knew the script except me.

At one point, an elder reached out to touch my cheek.

“It’s good to finally have you home, child,” she said kindly.

I didn’t know how to respond without screaming into the void, so I smiled with all the stability of a damp biscuit.

I stayed with my parents. Why are you acting like you’ve been expecting me?

More speeches followed. Blessings. Nods. Approval murmurs.

And absolutely no mention of last week.

Not a single whisper.

No retiring warrior boasting about victory.

No elder referencing the pack’s strength.

Nothing.

The way it would have been in my pack. No, scratch that. I was now a member of this pack, so it should be my parent’s pack.

It was like the entire pack had taken a collective vow to commit selective amnesia.

Grandma guided me through it all with soft reassurances and gentle touches, fixing my sleeve, brushing dust from my collar, whispering small directions in my ear so I wouldn’t get lost in the ceremony.

She was gentle.

Loving.

And yet, a major part of the silence.

By the time she finished introducing me to the final elder, my face hurt from polite smiling. My brain was exhausted. My wolf was still silent.

But I kept my composure. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t ask why everyone was playing dumb.

I played along.

I survived the ceremony.

At least until I turned to walk back toward my seat.

Someone stepped into my path.

I froze.

A tall, broad-shouldered guy stood there, roughly in his twenties, with warm brown skin, dark hair shaved short at the sides, and a pair of sharp eyes that mirrored mine watching me with an odd intensity.

His expression was gentle, but something about him felt… unnervingly familiar.

He smirked looking at me up and down.

“Emily” he asked, voice smooth enough to pour over pancakes.

“Uh… yes?” I

answered, unsure.

He extended a hand.

“Nice to meet you, sister.”

My wolf which was silent all ceremony, flared awake in a violent, icy jolt.