Chapter 61

Before I know it, I’m in my room, getting ready to become alpha.

Catherine had finished my dress just two days after the announcement—and it’s breathtaking. Sage green with shimmering threads that catch the light like frost on moonlit leaves. It hugs my frame with elegance and strength, a perfect reflection of who I am, and who I must become.

I take a long shower, scrubbing my skin until it glows, as if trying to wash away every last remnant of weakness, doubt, and fear. Tonight, I must be more than just a girl with a title. I am a leader.

Mom, Chione, and Celeste enter quietly, as though stepping into sacred ground. They help with my hair, my makeup, and the thousand tiny preparations that come with ascending to power.

We decide on my signature: a braid crown. Tight, intricate, and commanding. Wisps fall naturally, softening my face. My mother weaves a living vine through the crown with her magic, the leaves dewy and green.

Then I raise my hands and manifest icy thorns twining through the vine. Soft and cold. Nature and winter. Peace and vengeance. The duality of my blood.

Mom’s eyes shimmer with pride, and then she brings out a wooden box carved with old symbols. It hums with magic as she hands it to me. I lift the lid.

Inside lies a ceremonial pin: the goddess Artemis holding her crescent moon, surrounded by the base elements—air, water, fire, and earth.

My breath catches. I know this.

It was my father’s. The same one he wore at his own succession. I’ve only ever seen it in photographs—shining against his broad chest, always looking proud.

I lift it, reverently, and hand it to my mother.

“Pin it on for me?”

Her fingers tremble slightly as she does. “He is proud of you, my sweet, powerful girl. I know he is.”

A lump forms in my throat. I nod, unable to speak.

I will avenge you, Father.
I will make those wolves pay—for what they did to you, to me, and to this pack.

We all nod to each other—silent confirmation that I’m ready. That the trap is set.

I open the door.

Silas stands there with his beta. He’s sharp and elegant in a suit of near-black blue. His hair is slicked back at the sides, the top left just messy enough to look dangerous. That smirk of his? The one that says, you’ve got this? It settles me.

“Well,” I murmur as I look him over, “you clean up well.”

“When your mate’s becoming alpha,” he replies with a wink, “you dress the part.”

He leans down and kisses me softly.

I link my arm through his, and Celeste joins Alaric on the other side. Together, we turn to my mother.

“Let’s go face the music,” she says, her eyes locking onto mine, scanning for cracks in my resolve.

There are none.

We begin the walk to the most sacred site of our pack.

This is where Aiden and I first transformed. Where the goddess first touched us with power. The place where every oath was ever sworn in blood and moonlight. The place where legends are born.

The full moon is high in the sky, a silver guard watching from above. As we approach the clearing, I hear howls in the distance—our people gathered, waiting.

Time slows.

My grip tightens on Silas’s arm.

He places his hand over mine, grounding me. “You’re not alone,” he whispers.

The trees part, revealing the clearing. At our arrival, the crowd falls instantly silent. Dozens—no, hundreds—of wolves line the perimeter, faces raised to the moon, waiting.

I release Silas’s arm and fall into step behind my mother, with him a breath behind me. My spine is straight. My chin high. Show no fear. If I falter now, even for a heartbeat, they’ll smell it. Doubt is poison to an alpha’s claim.

The clearing is surrounded by flaming torches that crackle against the hush. The scent of ash, sage, and pine hangs thick in the air. Behind the altar stand the other Alphas—some cold-eyed, some wary, and one who meets my gaze with quiet pride.

Darius.

I nod to him. He returns it, a silent act of support.

James and Chione flank my mother, proud and observant. Celeste and Atlas take their places beside me, their expressions hard and ready.

“Brothers and sisters!” my mother calls, her voice echoing like thunder across the trees. “We gather at this sacred site to crown a new leader. With the death of Alpha Granite Goldstein and the loss of the other twin heir, the Goddess has led us to a new path. We ask Artemis to judge the worth of this successor.”

Silas steps forward with the ceremonial paint. Mom signals for me to kneel at the altar.

I obey, kneeling before the crowd—my shoulders bare, my breath catching. My heartbeat pounds like war drums.

Mom and Chione gently slide my sleeves down, exposing my skin to the moonlight.

Suddenly, the chill is too much.

My pulse races. My skin begins to itch. The past claws at the edge of my mind. I can almost hear them—those monsters. The ones who hurt me. Who laughed while I was violated.

The sneers. The violence.
My brother, watching, disinterested. As if my pain was boring.

Then Silas steps into my line of sight.

His eyes find mine. Unwavering. Unafraid.

“You are stronger than your trauma,” Blanche’s voice echoes in my mind. “Focus on him. Only him.”

I steady my breathing. One heartbeat at a time. He is here. I am safe. I am not broken.

I nod.

Silas kneels before me. Gently, he dips his fingers in the  paint. He marks symbols across my shoulders—honoring air, fire, water, and earth. Then down my arms, across my palms, and over my chest: protection, wisdom, power, endurance. Finally, over my heart—he paints a crescent moon.

Loyalty to the goddess. Loyalty to myself.

The air grows thick with energy. I swear I feel her touch—a warm hand on my shoulder. Artemis. She’s watching.

Mom steps forward, her hands steady, and draws the alpha symbol on my forehead.

The ritual markings complete, I rise.

Mom unsheathes the ceremonial dagger—the same I used during my first transformation. It gleams in the moonlight.

“Athena Goldstein,” she intones, “you have the Goddess’s favor. But all alphas must prove themselves. The Moonshadow Rite awaits. If you survive it, you will be named not just leader—but legend. Do you accept?”

“I do,” I say without hesitation.

She turns the blade and offers it to me, hilt first.

My fingers are just about to close around it when a voice rips through the night:

“NO!”

Gasps echo.

The crowd stirs.

Silas snarls, stepping in front of me.

From the shadows, wolves emerge.

Alpha Orion appears, dragging my mother into a chokehold. His beta blocks James and Chione before they can react. Alpha Ezra and the rebels follow—grabbing Celeste, Alaric, and Atlas.

“This farce ends now,” Orion says. “The Eclipse Pack and the true blood of Mystic Evergreen refuse to kneel to a female. We will not be ruled by weakness. Nor by her mate’s cursed kind.”

A ripple of rage courses through the crowd.

Some shout in support. Others growl in fury. A chorus of “Traitor!” and “She’s not one of us!” mingles with “String her up!” and “LEAVE!”

Orion’s voice booms. “Athena Goldstein, leave now, and your loved ones live. If you stay… they die. The Council will await Aiden’s return or choose new leadership.”

Silas’s body trembles. He’s on the edge of transformation, his voice a growl. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Tears sting my eyes. I place a hand over his. Should be convincing enough.

“I will. But not because I’m afraid. Make sure they’re safe. Then come find me.”

He nods, reluctantly letting go.

And I begin my walk of exile.

Faces blur. Some spit. Some cry. Some are silent.

But one smirk pierces the fog.

Selene. Recording everything on her phone.

Let her. Let the world see this.

Because I’m not done.

Not yet.

Not even close.