Chapter 3: The Ceremony From Hell

The Vale Estate was crawling with tension, buzzing the way a nest of snakes might when you poke it with a stick. Candlelight flickered across polished marble, shadows writhing along the walls like they had a mind of their own. Every Elder in the pack was there, and not one of them looked friendly. Their eyes darted, sharp and suspicious, like they were each waiting for someone to draw first blood, and the air was thick with unspoken threats. Every breath was a challenge; every glance a dare. It was as if the ancient walls themselves held their breath, waiting to see who would shatter the uneasy silence.

Right in the middle, Celeste stood tall—white-lavender hair spilling down her back, glowing like moonlight you could actually touch. Power hummed under her skin, alive, itching for release, the kind of energy that made the very air vibrate, as if reality itself was struggling to contain her. Every step she took made the ancient floorboards vibrate, a warning to everyone present that something unstoppable was coiled within her. Even her breathing seemed to bend the air to her will, each inhale and exhale a subtle flex of dominance over everything and everyone in the room.

This is it, her wolf whispered, hungry. Time to put these old bastards in their place. The words echoed in her mind, sharp as broken glass and twice as dangerous. Celeste could feel her wolf prowling just beneath the surface, its anticipation winding tighter, ready to spring. She knew this was the moment her entire life had been leading toward—the moment when she would show them that she wasn’t just another name in the Vale line, but a force that could never be caged.

A voice boomed across the hall, silencing the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the crowd like nervous static. “Welcome, reborn Celeste Vale,” Elder Kael called out, offering a stiff little bow, every inch of him radiating the kind of grudging respect that comes from fear. “Tonight’s your first full awakening. May the White Wolf rise and show us what she’s made of.” His words hung in the air, ceremonial and heavy, but beneath them beat a pulse of challenge—an old lion daring the new to prove herself worthy.

Celeste’s violet eyes narrowed, their color deepening to something almost inhuman. Yeah, right. Awakening, my ass. Her wolf let out a low, dark laugh, the sound vibrating through her bones, filling her with a reckless kind of joy. Bring it on, old man. The defiance was electric, pulsing from her feet to her fingertips, and she could almost taste the fear that rolled off the Elders in waves.

“Proceed,” Kael said, and the word hung in the air like a threat, slicing through the tension and setting every nerve on fire.

The room tensed up. The Elders expected some delicate little ritual, maybe a nervous girl fumbling through her first taste of real power. They were ready for a display, a show of control—a gentle ripple, a flicker of light, something they could dismiss or contain. Instead, they got a wildfire. They got a storm that refused to be tamed.

Celeste lifted her hands, and the air thickened, crackling with energy that tasted of lightning and ancient, wild places. Her wolf howled inside her skull, clawing to break free, desperate to run, to hunt, to remind them all of what true power felt like. She tensed, every muscle ready to snap, her body a conduit for something older and more dangerous than any of them could imagine. The Elders braced themselves, but they had no idea what was coming—not really. Not in their wildest, most desperate nightmares.

The first shockwave crashed through the hall, a tidal wave of raw force that shattered the calm. Candles toppled, silk banners caught fire, and the marble floor groaned under the weight of her power, hairline cracks racing across its surface. A cold wind, tinged with violet, ripped through the ceremony, yanking robes and hair in every direction, filling the air with the scent of ozone and scorched silk. The Elders lost their composure—some screaming, some just frozen, faces painted with awe and terror, unable to reconcile the image of the girl they thought they knew with the tempest standing before them.

“Fuck!” Celeste growled, the word torn from her throat by the force of her own magic. Now that felt right. Her wolf reveled in the chaos, every fiber of her being alight with satisfaction as the old order crumbled around her.

One Elder stepped up, trying to play brave, his voice shaking but his chin lifted in defiance. “Celeste! Control yourself!” His words were empty, a feeble command in the face of something so much greater than his understanding.

Her wolf just laughed, deep and savage, a sound that echoed through the hall and sent shivers down every spine. Control? That’s for people who are afraid. Survivors and killers don’t ask for permission. The wolf’s voice was a snarl, ancient and wild, reminding her—and everyone else—what it meant to be a force of nature.

Her hands burned white, violet sparks dancing along her skin, illuminating her face with an unearthly glow. The shadows around her twisted, forming wolves with eyes like knives, circling the Elders with low, snarling growls. The room was alive with the sound of howling wind and grinding teeth, a symphony of fear and reverence echoing off the stone.

Kael’s voice broke, his composure slipping as he finally understood what he was facing. “This… this power—I’ve never seen…” He trailed off, his words swallowed by the howling magic, his authority crumbling.

You never should’ve underestimated me, Celeste thought, lips pulled back in a feral grin, her teeth flashing in the candlelight. Her wolf surged up, voice echoing through the hall, filling every corner with its presence. We don’t play your games. We are the storm. Her declaration was absolute, a line drawn in fire and blood.

One Elder staggered back, clutching his chest as blue light raced through his veins, the magic burning away his arrogance and leaving only terror in its wake. Celeste hesitated, guilt pricking her—a small, sharp reminder of the girl she once was—but only for a second. Her rebirth wasn’t about being soft. It was about burning her name into their memories, carving her legacy into their bones so deeply they’d never forget.

Purple fire erupted from her palms, licking at the walls, hungry and wild. The shadow wolves solidified, all fangs and fury, their eyes glowing with the promise of violence. Another Elder shrieked as they lunged, never touching, but close enough that every hair on his body must’ve stood on end. He felt it—the fear, the pain, and, buried underneath, respect. The kind that could only be wrung from true power.

This is my world now, Celeste thought. No one would ever mistake her for anything less than sovereign again.

Then she sensed it—the scent she’d know anywhere, raw and magnetic. Her mate. Not here yet, but close enough her wolf’s claws ached to tear down anything in the way. Every sense screamed as he approached, his dominance brushing against hers like a challenge, a promise, a spark ready to ignite something even more dangerous.

Oh, hell yes, her wolf purred, the sound thick with anticipation. He’s here, and he’s already losing his grip. The thought sent a thrill through her, a reminder that power recognized power—and craved it.

The Elders didn’t notice the shift in her attention. They were too busy shaking, their world turned upside down by the girl they’d hoped to control. Kael raised a trembling hand, desperation etched into every line of his face. “Celeste… you have to stop… now!” His plea was thin, a last gasp of an old regime that didn’t understand it was already dead.

Celeste just laughed, eyes gleaming violet, her voice filled with wild delight. “Stop? You really think I’m done?” She leaned into the chaos, her power swirling around her like a hurricane, daring anyone to try and rein her in.

Energy cracked around her, purple-white and wild. Marble shattered beneath her feet, jagged shards flying as if reality itself was breaking apart. Candles burst, sending hot wax raining onto the terrified crowd, and the air stank of ozone and scorched silk, a promise of more destruction to come.

The Elders stumbled, clinging to their robes, their pride in tatters. Pathetic. Her wolf circled her, a living shadow, every muscle coiled and ready. Every inch of her screamed with the thrill of unleashed power, the joy of finally being fully herself.

Kael tried again, voice barely more than a gasp, his authority shattered beyond repair. “You… you’re—” But he never finished the sentence.

She snapped her fingers, the sound sharp as a whipcrack. The shockwave tossed the Elders like rag dolls, sending them sprawling across the floor. Some landed hard, bruised and broken, their dignity left behind on the polished marble. The last one standing just stared, wide-eyed and speechless, his world forever changed.

“Fucking hell,” Celeste muttered, letting the energy fade at last. Her wolf purred, the sound vibrating through the stone, a deep, satisfied rumble that promised this was only the beginning. That’s how you make an entrance.

Silence settled, thick as smoke, pressing in from all sides. The only sounds were ragged breaths and the occasional groan, the echoes of power still humming in the air. Mist curled in the air, heavy and strange, as if the very atmosphere had been rewritten. Every Elder in the room understood now: Celeste Vale wasn’t just reborn—she was something they’d never be able to leash, something wild and eternal.

Then, from the shadows near the balcony, the air rippled, a subtle distortion that sent a fresh wave of tension through the room.

Her mate appeared. Tall, dangerous, magnetic as a black hole, every movement evidence of barely restrained violence and infinite promise. Broad shoulders, eyes that burned with a challenge, an energy that dared her to match it and raise the stakes. Even the White Wolf in her shivered with anticipation, drawn to him by a pull older than memory.

Celeste went still. Finally. The world narrowed to a single point, every sense focused on the man before her.

Her wolf growled, low and sure, the sound a claim and a challenge all in one. Mine. The word reverberated through her, as certain as gravity.

He stopped a few feet away, sizing her up, his gaze lingering on every inch of her as if memorizing the moment. Their eyes locked, and everything else faded—the chaos, the fear, the Elders—they were nothing now. The energy in the room twisted, thickened, crackling with the promise of what might come next. Even the smoke seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the next clash of titans.

“Celeste,” he finally said, his voice all low and dangerous, rough with something old and unfinished between them, “you’ve grown… way faster than I thought you would.”

She just smirked, violet energy sparking at her fingertips—brighter and wilder than before, more her own with every heartbeat. “You really think I needed your approval?” Her tone was mocking, but there was steel beneath it, a challenge thrown at his feet.

He shook his head, gaze never leaving hers, and stepped in closer, crowding her space until the air thinned and her pulse hammered in her ears—overwhelming, but somehow she couldn’t help wanting more, craving the intensity he brought with him. “No. I just need to see what you’ve turned into… before someone else tries to kill you first.” His words were half-warning, half-admission, and the promise in them made her blood sing.

Her wolf growled, hungry and restless inside her chest, pressing against her skin as if it could claw its way out and claim him. Oh, he’s definitely my kind of trouble. Let’s see how far he’ll go before he breaks, before I do.

Celeste flashed a grin, sharp as broken glass. “You’re late,” she teased, her voice curling around him like smoke. “I almost got bored waiting for you.” In truth, she’d felt the hours stretch out, tension making her skin itch, her power restless for a reason to burn.

The air between them snapped and sizzled, electricity and longing tangled together so tightly it was impossible to tell which belonged to whom—nobody in control, not really, both of them poised on the edge of something dangerous and new. Her wolf whimpered, desperate for the mess, the wildness, the taste of power and want she’d become, hungry for the chaos she could unleash.

The Elders watched from the shadows, battered and afraid, clutching at their old secrets and broken authority, whispering like cowards: She can’t be stopped. The prophecy is real. Their fear rolled off them in waves, but Celeste barely noticed, too wrapped up in the storm building between her and her mate.

Purple-white fire danced along Celeste’s hands, flames licking her skin without burning, as she looked straight at him—her mate, the only one who’d ever matched her stride for stride. The pull between them was magnetic, old as the moon and twice as inevitable. This was it: the collision of power and fury and want she could never fight off, no matter how hard she tried.

This was her rebirth. Revenge, just the beginning—a taste of the reckoning she intended to bring. And now, with him so close she could feel his breath, she could feel everything in her world about to catch fire, all the old rules and fears burning away until only possibility remained.