He steps closer, eyes narrowing. “Besuresoon, Alpha. The gods are not infinite in their patience,” he gestures vaguely. “They are watching.”
I nod once, jaw tight.
The elder priest backs toward the door. “Feast begins at midnight. Let’s hope the night holds something new.”
He slips out without another word.
When the door closes, the silence feels colder than before. I stare out the window. Somewhere out there, my mate exists. But the wolves are getting restless. The gods are growing impatient. Even the stone seems to ask:How much longer will you wait?
Chapter 6
EMBER
The invitation to dinner arrived with two black robes and instructions to meet at the temple. Werewolves aren’t modest. Nudity is natural. We live as skin and fur without shame. But the gods clearly don’t want a stray nipple popping into the dessert, or a burly chest hair falling in the roast. Another part of me wonders if it’s to deter the male wolves from acting upon their primal urges prematurely. A wolf during mating season is … aggressive and impulsive, to put it nicely. I’ve heard some horror stories and seen wolves come back scarred, or not at all.
“I don’t like it. It has sleeves, what if it gets in my soup?” Roman is flapping his arms like a bird. The robe is too large for him, the arms are belled and hang past his fingers, and the length pools around his feet. I hide a smile.
“Mmm, robe-y soup, my favorite,” I tease as I pull back my hair on the right side and refasten my seashell to keep my hair off my face.
“Ember, I’m being serious.” He props his hands on his hips. It makes the robe look even bigger on him.
“Oh, me too. What I wouldn’t give for some cottony soupright now.” This is the only part of the rituals surrounding the trials Roman is allowed to attend, for obvious reasons. I won’t let an oversized robe ruin his night.
After a pause, his voice softens. “Are you nervous?”
“Me? Nervous? Who wouldn’t want to find a fated mate and live happily ever after?”
Me. I wouldn’t want that. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. But I’ll be damned if I put worry on my brother, who’s already been through so much loss.
“I’d be nervous.” He shrugs.
“Well, you have nothing to worry about. Not with those stinky feet and that beef jerky breath.”
I open the door and slip out into the hall, trying to contain my laughter.
“Hey!” he yells, chasing after me. “You have jerky breath too!”
The temple hall is nothing like the drafty stone corridors we’ve seen so far. Two towering columns frame the entrance, snarling wolves carved at their bases. The double-arched doors swing open into a huge circular room. The room is lined with columns that hold up nothing but tendrils of ivy and eucalyptus as the ceiling is open to the night sky above. The midnight moon pours silver light down at a long table that stretches from end to end.
The Shadow pack isn’t hard to identify as we are all wearing the color robe of our pack, black. We’re not named for anything creepy or nefarious, only named after the shadows of a cave in which we reside. The others are sorted by color as well. Aurora pack from Alaska, donning stark white, Pinepack from Maine in green, Autumn pack from Washington in gold, and Great Lakes pack from Michigan in sea blue.
Roman and I make our way across the room to our pack. As I walk, my leg slips out of the slit in my robe, making me suddenly feel conscious of my nakedness underneath. I’ve never been noticeably aware of nudity until I realized every pair of eyes in this place is evaluating me as a potential mate. I meet no one’s eye as we find two open seats amongst the Shadow pack all lined at the far side.
Cullen is standing across the table, talking and laughing with another male with long white hair. They are comparable in size, although the snow-haired male has wider shoulders and bigger muscles. I’ve never seen my Alpha share a hearty laugh. Until today, I was under the assumption that he didn’t. Now I can see why, it almost makes him look … approachable. His companion turns, I notice three parallel scars from temple to cheek just missing his eye. Claw marks. His face is carved from ice and angles and combined with his ice-blue serious eyes, it makes him look terrifying. His long white hair is partially pulled back with twine. He is proud of his scars. It’s as if he wants his battle scars to be seen. He’s wearing a white robe, Aurora pack. They are located in the remote Alaskan tundra, said to live in an entire cavern of ice. The brutal winters have made them just as cold and cruel, or so I’ve heard. No one ever stays mated to one of them for long. I can’t say I blame those mates; I love sunsets in summer and a nice warm dip in the lake.
The amusement in the white-robed male’s eye extinguishes when he meets mine. If looks could kill, I’d be aflame. I can tell there is no exaggeration to the brutality of Aurora pack.
“Ah, back again, Thorn?” Honi calls from beside me, grinning, “Are you finally going to choose a matethis season?”
He turns to meet her gaze. “We shall see.” Before Cullen and Thorn turn back into conversation.
Leaning into Honi, I whisper, “Who is that?”
“Thorn? Alpha of Aurora pack.”
“Oh…” I can see why. One look and I’m pinned into place.
She leans in conspiratorially. “He’s been coming to the Mating Trials for years. Never once claimed a mate.”