Serena POV:
The morning fog was a grey shroud upon the castle's mullioned windows when a timid knock fell upon my door.
A maidservant entered, bearing a large, flat box bound with a silver ribbon.
"From the Lady Elena," the girl murmured, her gaze fixed firmly upon the floorboards.
I opened the box.
Inside, nestled in tissue, lay a gown of heavy velvet, its colour the deep, arterial crimson of a fresh kill.
It was a garment of exquisite craftsmanship, but I understood its purpose at once.
Elena would be wearing its twin at the Council meeting. It was a calculated visual stratagem, designed to present us as equals, to blur the sacred and singular distinction between the Fated Mate and the chosen companion.
"Return it," I said, my voice even. "Inform her ladyship that I find my own attire more suitable."
The maid's eyes widened with terror, but she curtsied and fled with the box.
I turned to Leo, who was sitting quietly on his bed.
I dressed him in a simple, thick wool coat I had sewn myself.
It was a plain, dun-coloured garment, lacking the silver-thread embroidery that denoted a high-born pup, but it was warm.
I myself wore a dress of unadorned navy blue, without so much as a single pin for ornament.
When we arrived before the great double doors of the Elder Council hall, the intended contrast was stark.
Kael stood near the entrance, wearing his formal Alpha coat adorned with silver medals.
Beside him, Elena was a blaze of crimson velvet, her throat and wrists dripping with silver chains.
Her son was a miniature effigy of Kael, garbed in a replica of the Alpha's coat.
They were a perfect, regal tableau.
Kael's eyes flicked to my plain dress, his brow furrowing slightly, but he said nothing.
The heavy doors groaned open.
The hall was a vast, gothic chamber, its vaulted ceiling lost in shadows above the flickering light of a hundred beeswax candles.
At the far end, a colossal marble statue of the Moon Goddess stood in silent judgment.
"Today, we commit to record the future of the Dark Moon Pack," the Chief Elder's voice reverberated from the stone walls, though his hands gripped the ledger with a visible reluctance. He looked at Kael. "Alpha, the law of the pack dictates that the pure-blooded son of the Fated Mate must be named heir."
Kael's eyes flashed a dangerous gold, and a palpable pressure emanated from him, pressing down upon the old man. "My decree is the law, Elder. You will record it as I have commanded."
The Elder swallowed, a dry, audible click in the silence. His shoulders seemed to sink under an invisible weight as he dipped his quill. "The pup born in the month of March, to the Lady Elena, is hereby recorded as first in the line of the Alpha inheritance."
A rustle of uneasy movement passed through the assembled pack members. And then, the Elder's voice dropped, as if the words pained him: "The pup born in the month of December of the preceding year, to the Luna Serena, is recorded as second in the line of inheritance."
The words were a public scourging.
My son, the elder pup, the son of the Fated Mate, was pushed aside.
Kael stepped forward.
He took the hand of Elena's son and gently guided him to the marble altar.
"Kneel," Kael said softly, his voice full of pride. "Show the Goddess your strength."
When it was Leo's turn, Kael stepped back.
He did not watch us. His arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed upon a tapestry on the far wall.
I took Leo's small hand and walked him to the altar.
Leo looked up at me, his green eyes wide.
"Mother," he whispered. "Why am I second? Was I not good enough?"
A sharp, physical pain lanced through me, but I lowered my eyelids, my gaze falling past Kael's polished boots to a loose flagstone in the floor, and I held it there until the tremor in my hands had passed.
"No, my brave boy," I answered softly. "This is merely the Alpha's arrangement."
Leo nodded slowly.
He knelt on the cold stone, the dust staining the knees of his wool pants.
I saw his small shoulders tremble once, a violent, quickly suppressed shudder.
I knew the pup within him was howling, a cry of bewildered agony for the sire who refused to claim him.
But Leo bit his lip and stayed silent, burying the pain deep inside.
After the ritual, the pack moved to the banquet hall for the morning feast.
Elena glided to the head table, taking the seat directly to Kael's right.
She began issuing orders to the servants, a flawless pantomime of the Luna's role.
I stood holding Leo's hand, looking for our places.
"Lady Serena," Elena called out, her voice a confection of false sweetness that carried to every corner of the hall. "I have reserved a special place for you and the boy."
She pointed to a small wooden table near the drafty doors.
It was the table set for the Omegas, the lowest-ranking members of the pack, and for those too old or infirm to be of consequence.
The clatter of cutlery ceased. The scrape of a bench on stone was unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet.
Every eye in the hall was upon me, waiting for the outburst, the scene.
I did not grant it to them.
I gave a slight, formal nod and led my son to the Omega table, pulling out a rough-hewn chair for him.
As I sat down, a passing Warrior bowed his head slightly.
"Good morning, Lady Serena," he mumbled.
Not Luna. Lady Serena.
The title had been stripped from me not by decree, but by the silent, collective assent of the pack.
I cut a piece of bread for Leo, committing to memory the chill of every averted gaze, the cadence of every whispered comment.
*When the feast ended, I would begin the quiet work of disappearing. *
