Chapter: 5

Elizabeth.

Carol comes knocking at my doors moments after, but I don’t want to speak with her, so I stay where I am, with my head buried in a soft pillow on which my tears dry. I’m normally not a person to cry out loud when I am upset. Most of the time, I’d just bury my face in a pillow and let the tears fall soundlessly as I run every reason as to why I’m sad in my head until the severity of those reasons and the intensity of my emotions die out. It was my coping mechanism with grief, and after a good cry, I would find myself being able to completely move on from it.

“Eliza,” Carol’s voice comes from the other side of the door, and I think I hear the sadness in it, “I am so very sorry that we made a scene at the table today, especially considering how it’s your birthday. I didn’t intend to let myself get carried away like that, I was too caught up in my own emotions that I failed to think about you, and I truly, truly regret it. Today was supposed to be your celebration, but we managed to make it a shouting match,” She pauses for a moment, “What Easton did today was completely wrong. You have been nothing but a good sister to him, and I don’t know what he’s going through at the moment with Greyson, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior. I’m sorry if it looked like I was defending him. I was just…I guess I didn’t like Greyson calling him an ingrate when he isn’t.”

Another silence follows, and I debate whether I should talk with her. The petty, selfish part of me wants her to just leave me alone in my misery, but that part is small and is easily overpowered by the other part that is hurt.

I get up from my bed and walk towards the door.

I open it to see the sorrowful face of my stepmother, and she lightens up upon seeing me. There are remnants of tears in her eyes, and I feel bad for storming off from the dining room as I did. Only slightly so.

“Eliza…” She starts but drawls off, unable to find words.

“It’s…well, it’s not entirely alright,” I find myself saying, “But I understand.”

“I’m sorry for having a shouting match at your birthday lunch,” She states in a small voice, and I go to embrace her. My stepmother is taller than me, but when I embrace her it feels like hugging a younger child. I feel sorry for the strain she was under, trying to manage her son and her husband who was starting to be at odds with one another. My father was not the easiest man to be married to, I presume, with his countenance, but she had handled him for eighteen years. I just wish she stood up to him like she did today sooner.

“It’s fine, mother,” I say, “I forgive you.”

“Thank you, Eliza,” She replies in a choked sort of voice.

We keep hugging for a few moments before breaking off.

She smiles at me and touches my face with her hand, “You’ve grown so big, I remember as if it was yesterday when I was holding you in my arms as you slept soundly,” She remarks, “And now you’re ready to have your very own Midnight Ceremony. You’re a pup no more, Elizabeth.”

“But I will always be your child,” I reply, “Nothing will change that. Even if father and Easton are going to be at each other’s throats. That’s their problem, not ours.”

She laughs deprecatingly, “If only it was that easy…” She shakes her head, “But enough of this. Today is your birthday, and I don’t want to take the mood down further by talking about your brother. Are you hungry? You didn’t eat anything at lunch and you came from practice, so you’re bound to be hungry.”

“I was,” I confess, “But I lost my appetite afterward.”

“You have to have the strength to go through your ceremony,” Carol insists, “So you must have something. Besides the lovely maids baked you a nice cake with chocolate icing inside, you have to have a piece. Here, let me fix you a plate, so you can eat it here in your room. After that, I’ll help you get ready for tonight.”

***

When the sun starts to stray from the skies to kiss the seas, I exit the castle.

The summer heat is significantly less at this time of the day, and the sunrays are less harsh. The sun itself glows orange in the distant mountains, setting serenely t give way to the night. Today is a new moon day, hence the only light source in the sky would be from the stars. Commonly, this is considered to be inopportune for a Midnight ceremony as visibility would be less.

But we were werewolves, dubbed as the creatures of the night. Such things would never deter us from fulfilling our traditions.

I’m dressed in a simple white dress that trails a bit below my knees, which is quite flowy. My hair is loose, and it curls down my back. I am unadorned, with no jewelry or rouge on my face in sight. Just the way I was born. I am also barefoot, and I feel the freshly cut grass of the north pasture of the Crescent Moon pack beneath my sole, dotted with the occasional pebble. I feel connected to mother nature in a way unlike ever before, and that calms me down. The worry I had over my brother and my father, neither of whom had apologized to me yet as Carol did, all but vanishes as I make my way towards the small gathering at the nethermost order of the pack. There are about 10-12 pack elders gathered, each holding a cup of pain in their hands. As soon as they notice me, they turn towards me.

“Welcome, Elizabeth Mannering, daughter of the Alpha,” They say, “Welcome to your Midnight ceremony.”