Page 52 of Full Moon
Chapter 25
Khal
I havemy suspicions about who is involved in all of this. Without my twin, I'm questioning almost everything.
Wolves are more about the purity of the species than any of the others, besides the basilisks and dragons. With everything that has surfaced since our arrival here, I wouldn't be shocked if the councils have been in cahoots since day one. Why else would they ban the taking of more than one mate? They knew what Feray's bloodline's potential is. I pace the lobby, my mind racing with doubts and fears, waiting for the others. We're heading to see the seer and then to cross the tundra.
Diaval found a sled in the shed and has loaded it up with food and camping supplies for the trek. The beta, Alec, said it's a two-day journey due east of our position. Feray has spoken to the pack and is leaving Alec in charge while she's gone.
"Let's get the show on the road," Feray yells as she walks past me, heading toward the front door. Her voice cuts through my thoughts like a blade.
"Did something happen?" I jog to catch up as she turns right out the front door.
"Esther's time is almost up. I feel it." Feray draws in a deep breath, her face a mask of determination. She turns away, picking up the pace and moving faster through the snow.
It's not a long walk to where the seer lives, but the atmosphere is tense. Dozens of wolves sit staring at the house, their eyes filled with a mix of hope and dread.
"Is this normal?" I ask, noting that none of them possess a coat as white as my mate's.
Feray reaches for the doorknob and lets herself into the small cabin. The townspeople within bow their heads in deference and move out of her way. "For wolves, yes. The pack is a huge family of sorts." Her voice is steady, though I can feel the swirling emotions within her through the bond—a silent storm beneath her composed exterior. She makes it to the room where the crone lays under a pale blue duvet.
A smile graces her weathered, pale tan skin. "You came..." Her voice is so soft and weak as she tries to raise a hand.
"Shhh... It's okay, I'm here. You can rest now. I'll protect our people," Feray whispers. She slides off the bed, lowering her head to the mattress, and gently rests the crone's hand on her own head.
I watch as the elder's gnarled fingers thread through Feray's hair. "You are my Claridon's heir." Her voice wavers with pride and sorrow. "You look just like your mother, but you have my Claridon's eyes." She coughs a little before managing a smile. "May I see your wolf before I pass?"
Wordlessly, Feray nods and steps back. The transformation is seamless and powerful. Her wolf's form is enormous compared to the others, the white of her fur blending perfectly with the snow outside. Slowly, she inches her massive body onto the bed, laying her head in her grandmother's lap. "The false alpha will not yield," her grandmother says, stroking Feray's fur with a trembling hand. "You are everything my son prayed for." With a final, tender caress, she rests her hand on Feray's head. And then closes her eyes.
The moment the old woman passes, I feel a shift—as if a ripple moves through the room, awakening the shared pack awareness. Something ancient and profound just left this world. And something equally ancient just stepped forward to take her place. Stepping closer, I gently remove the elder's hand from Feray's head. She sits up on the bed, her eyes meeting mine. I nod, and she throws her head back in a mournful howl that rattles the walls.
Pictures and trinkets vibrate and fall to the ground as the voices of the other wolves join in, filling the air with their death song. The sound is unlike anything I've ever heard—raw and primal, grief given voice, a hundred hearts breaking in unison. Our bond-mates finally arrive, taking in the scene before them.
"It's a mourning song," Easton says, his voice hushed in reverence.
"The seer was Feray's grandmother. She warned us about the Alpha in Crescent Valley," I update the others.
"At least she got to meet her before she passed," Torben says softly, moving to hug Feray's wolf.
"What happens now?" I ask.
"No clue. I've never witnessed what happens at a traditional wolf burial," Diaval replies.
Easton sighs heavily. "I only saw it once. The royal bloodline has a cavern where they lay the bodies to rest."
Feray jumps down from the bed and shifts back to her human form. "They're getting the sled, and I'm going to deliver her to her final resting place." Her face is a mask of emotionless determination as she scans the room, her eyes landing on a cluster of pictures. She stops, staring at what must be her dad's family.
I move behind her and wrap my arms around her, holding her close. "Your dad looks like he was a really strong man. Look here..." I grab another picture frame and hold it in front of her—her parents' wedding photo. "They made a beautiful couple." I press my lips to her temple as she stares at the image.
"I look so much like my mom," she whispers. Her index finger traces the image tenderly. "Grams shared some of her memories of my parents with me. It was nice getting to see them in life. They loved each other so much." She sighs and hands the picture to Torben to take with us.
"Princess?" A young woman appears at the door, shifting nervously.
Feray stiffens in my arms, unaccustomed to the title. "Yes?"
"We're ready for you. Alec and Dorian will bring your grandmother out as soon as we have you set."
"Here we go..." Feray mutters before stepping out of my embrace. She walks to the front of the house, shifting seamlessly as she moves. I marvel at how smooth and effortless hertransformation has become. We follow Feray out into what appears to be a storm squall, the wind howling and snow lashing at our faces. I watch as they adjust the harness to fit her, noting her immense size. She stands easily three feet at the shoulder and is almost twice the size of the other wolves present.
