A month later
Kenna
A rush of cool air greets me as I step out on the balcony overlooking the city of Veiled Valley. The valley is a sea of green against the mist rising from the river far below–mist that swallows whole a dozen or so bridges connecting the city on either side of the pristine, near tropical mountains.
I take a deep breath, my ribs aching as the corset I’m wearing cuts into my skin. Why do we bother wearing these anymore?
I pinch the fabric of my silver-blue gown between my fingers. The fabric billows out around my waist, creating a ball-gown effect that’s honestly very beautiful, if not totally inefficient. I can barely walk in this gown–this gown of silver stars and fresh-water pearls that glimmer in the moonlight–but I guess that doesn’t matter. I won’t be doing much walking until the after-party tonight, after my ascension ceremony.
The mist keeps rising, covering the sparkling city in a milky white hazy, but the moon is full and beckoning me to shift–to tear out of my dress–and sprint into the woods.
It’s not that I don’t want to go through with this. Not at all. After everything Evander and I have been through the past few months, sitting down together on Veiled Valley’s Shadowsynger thrones and falling into a mundane routine feels like we’re stepping into heaven hand-in-hand.
I don’t want to think about war, or politics, or the ever changing political landscape behind the mystical veil that surrounds my new pack.
I just want to wake up with my mate, eat breakfast, do paperwork, and pepper Brie with kisses.
Another whoosh of air spirits from the house, ruffling my skirts.
“I know, I know,” I mumble, turning to the ancient doors of stained glass behind me. The magic that resides in this strange castle of onyx stone rustles the curtains in our bedroom in annoyance. I’m running late. It took ages to turn my unruly brown waves into the intricate updo–a nest of braids and pearl clips and a crown–and don’t even get me started on my makeup.
Once upon a time, I lived for this. For primping, fancy clothes, and shoes.
But now I’ve seen the worst of the world and this feels… unimportant.
“Kenna?”
Evander slips into the bedroom, dressed in a suit of the deepest blue, which makes his green eyes pop. Even from the edge of the balcony, I can see his eyes shining in the soft light of the massive chandelier in the center of the domed ceiling in our bedroom.
His blonde hair is swept away from his face, and he’s clean shaven for the first time in weeks.
He looks, at least for a moment, like the Evander who covered my eyes that night when he ran over a Draven wolf when he was desperately trying to get us to the port. The night we fell through the roof of the chicken coop. The night I crawled to him, laying my hands on him knowingly for the first time and feeling that pull that would bind us together for eternity.
My mate, in all his glory, smirks as he strides in my direction.
“Don’t laugh,” I beg, my cheeks going bright pink. “I look like a wedding cake.”
“You don’t,” he tries to assure me, but his eyes glimmer with mischief as he stops in front of me, giving me a brief inspection. “You look beautiful.”
“I begged to just wear my after party dress.” I turn back to the city, gripping the railing. “But Mom and my grandmas teamed up against me. Only Aunt Maddy was on my side.”
“What’s bothering you about the dress?” He comes up behind me, his body a welcoming, comforting presence as my nerves threaten to start pulling me apart.
“The corset is too tight. It’s cutting into my skin. I can barely breathe.”
“That’s an easy fix.” He pushes the silken, transparent cloak of stars that attaches to my shoulders and flows down my back in a train that would give most brides a run for their money and starts loosening the laces.
“You’re rather good at that for someone who was a virgin when we first slept together–oh!”
He gives my laces a little tug. “Don’t tempt me, Kenna,” he rasps, leaning in to brush the words over my neck. “We’ll play later.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I counter, testing the tightness of my corset by taking an easy breath. Much better. “I’d give anything to just stay in our room for the night. We’ve barely had time to move in and unpack our things.”
“Should I go downstairs and cause a distraction to give you time to escape?”
I turn to face him, shaking my head. He would, too. If I asked–if I told him I didn’t want to do this–he’d sneak me out of the castle.
“I’m just nervous.”
“I know. So am I. Being the First Mate of Veiled Valley is a huge weight on my shoulders.”
I swat him. “You’ll be Alpha, Evander.”
“Maybe in name. You’re the true Alpha here, Kenna.”
The balcony around us trembles with impatience. I roll my eyes, murmuring a prayer to the Goddess, and nod to myself. “The house is right; it’s time. Where’s Brie?”
“Isla has her. She won’t let anyone else hold her.”
I smirk as I follow Evander out of our bedroom and through the winding, onyx corridors leading to the throne room where practically everyone in Veiled Valley will be waiting for us.
“That sounds like my grandma.”
“Cressendra looked like she was about to fight Isla for a chance with the baby,” Evander chuckles. “I’d pay to see that, honestly.”
“I’m not sure who’d win,” I admit with a laugh, the tension in my chest lessening.
We reach the side door to the throne room. I can hear the thrum of conversation, music, and excitement from within. It’s been centuries since Veiled Valley held a ceremony like this. I’m the first Shadowsynger Luna to ascend the throne since the time of the Firestone Queens.
So, I invited the whole freakin'’ pack. Every man, woman, and child is squished into the colossal throne room and adjacent ballroom.
And everyone is waiting for me.
A flash of blonde hair tinged with white catches my attention. I turn, smiling as Grandma Isla rushes in my direction. Poor Brie, now two months old, is dressed in a fluffy pale blue dress with a huge bow on the top of her hairless head.
“I thought I’d have to drag you out of that room, Kenna.” Grandma Isla huffs then smiles, carefully handing Brie to Evander, who cradles her.
“I’m ready. I just needed a minute,” I tell her.
Her smile sends a warmth spreading through my heart as she reaches up to caress my cheek. “I’m so proud of you. We’re all so proud of you.”
Tears sting by eyes as I nod, unable to form the words I need to thank her, but she’s on a mission.
“Ready?”
“We’re ready,” Evander answers for me, giving my shoulder a little nudge with his elbow.
Grandma moves in front of us and opens the door wide.
Now or never.
I step into the throne room beside my mate holding my daughter. We walk up the stairs leading to the twin thrones as a hush falls over the crowd.
In the sea of onlookers, I spot my parents standing together whispering to Uncle Isaac and Aunt Maddy.
Ryan and Sydney edge through the crowd, towering over pretty much everyone else in the area. Even Misty came, and I briefly see her and Piper, Evander’s little sister, sneaking glasses of champagne while everyone else is distracted.
I’m not sure what’s meant to happen next, but a priestess meets us in the center of the platform dressed in robes of deep blue, black, and violet–the official colors of the Shadowsynger line.
I expect her to say a few words, but she simply motions for me to follow her into the crowd.
Confused, I turn to Evander, who nods for me to follow her. My nerves erupt again. I wonder if they’re going to cut me open and do some blood ritual.
But when we pass through the center of the crowd, my dad steps to my left side, and on the right
“Don’t be nervous,” Grandpa Westfall murmurs, leaning into me to whisper the words into my hair.
He looks so much like my dad. Handsome, even in his old age. Dad takes my arm and squeezes, but his expression is serious, icy.
Only his eyes show his true feelings. Pride shines there as he looks from me, to his father.
The crowd parts, allowing us to walk out onto the sweeping, moon-drenched veranda. Intricate tiles swirl into a mosaic of a full moon surrounded by the cycle at the edge of the veranda. The tiles shine like diamonds in the light of the moon.
I turn to look over my shoulder and notice the excited crowd is following us, crowding the open doors overlooking the veranda.
My dad and grandpa come to a stop and guide me to stand in the center of the full moon.
“The last person to go through this ceremony was my father,” Grandpa Westfall says in a voice that carries to the crowd. “Tonight, we crown a new Luna to the Shadowsynger throne.”
Metal sings through the air as Dad unsheathes his sword of pure midnight. Gems of the deepest blues and purples glimmer as he slowly tilts the sword tip down, holding Grandpa’s gaze.
This is pretty serious, I realize, my cheeks glowing with a nervous blush.
“Kneel, Kenna Westfall, my daughter,” Dad says steadily.
I drop to my knees. In the crowd, I see Evander and Brie standing between Sydney and Ryan, all three of them wide-eyed and excited.
“Are you going to cut off my head?” I whisper.
Grandpa Westfall shushes me.
Dad says something in a language long lost to time–something that sounds like music. Something that makes my shadows swirl to life. Some people in the crowd echo his strange words, and I spot several people in tears–happy tears. Tears of awe. Tears that tell me this pack never thought they’d ever see this again.
“For the pack,” Dad says, laying his sword on my right shoulder. “For the family,” he says, laying it on my left. He gently rests the tip against my heart, his eyes meeting mine. “For the Goddess.”
I hold his gaze as my powers tremble, reaching for the sword. I fight the urge to gasp as my shadows start to seep into the onyx sword, igniting the gems to the point they glow.
“Rise, Kenna,” Grandpa says with a smile I’ve only seen a few times in my life.
I do.
I rise, and Dad kneels, extending his sword to me.
“But–”
“It’s yours,” he says, smiling. “Take it.”
My hand curls around the hilt. It’s lighter than I expected. The crowd waits on pins on needles–for what, I’m not sure–but I raise the sword to the moon, and the tiles beneath my feet begin to glow.
A single tear rolls down my cheek. I meet Evander’s gaze and find he’s also teary eyed as he smiles at me, letting out a surprised laugh.
The crowd erupts in a riotous applause, and then I’m laughing too.
“Luna Kenna of Veiled Valley!” he shouts, and soon everyone is shouting and hollering, dousing me in praise.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, choking on a laugh.
“I’ve never heard those words come out of your mouth,” Dad smirks.
“Now what?” I ask, lowering the sword. I was wrong about it being light. My arm aches, and I nearly drop it before he takes it and sheaths it down his back.
“I’ll hang onto this for tonight. Now, you go sit on your throne beside your mate.”
I search his eyes–so like mine–and see the pride there. “Thank you, Dad.”
He says nothing, but his answering smile has fresh tears pricking my lashes.
“Go dance with your mate, Kenna,” he laughs, giving me a nudge.
Beaming, I turn from him to Evander, who is waiting for me in the doorway. Sydney takes Brie from his arms and gives me a knowing bob of his head as he walks away with the baby.
I step up to Evander’s side. He takes my hand, knitting his fingers with mine.
“We’ve only danced together that one time,” I tell him.
“Let’s make up for lost time, then.”