Chapter 189

Olivia

The soft rustling of leaves and the melodic chirping of birds greeted the dawn.

Weeks had passed since Elliot and Aurora were born. Nathan and I went through all of the necessary, and sometimes grueling, phases of early parenthood: figuring out schedules, spending sleepless nights tending to the babies, changing diapers, and cleaning up messes.

Nathan was a wonderful father. I could tell already, just from the way that he interacted with little Elliot and Aurora. Their bond was so strong already that even when he entered the room, their faces lit up. I felt as though I had made the right choice, making his leap of faith with him.

But there had been something on my mind. Aurora and Elliot were a little over a month old now, and today was the day.

I felt an odd mixture of anticipation and apprehension as the day unfolded. The day Nathan had told me about had finally come, the day of the ancient ceremony for our babies.

…

“Olivia,” Nathan’s voice had a gentle but serious undertone when he first told me about it. “There’s a tradition in our pack. All the newborns have to undergo a ceremony. It’s an important rite of passage.”

I had met his statement with a puzzled frown. “A ceremony? I’ve never heard of this.”

He nodded, his amber eyes searching my face, likely gauging my reaction. “It’s a private ceremony held only for Alphas and their children. It’s held in the heart of the forest. They say an ancient wolf resides there, one that lost its human form ages ago. This wolf is said to bless the new Alphas of our pack. It essentially determines whether they will become Alphas or not.”

“Alphas?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “I’m sorry to say this, Nathan, but—”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Nathan held his hand up to stop me. “I’ve already talked to the Elders. Since I’ve chosen to essentially adopt Elliot and Aurora, they’re allowing it.”

The weight of the tradition, although intriguing, felt heavy on my shoulders. The idea of involving my babies in an ancient tradition that I knew nothing about, with a wolf who had lost its human form, would scare any new mother. “Is it... safe?” I asked.

He took a deep breath. “It involves laying the babies in a forest clearing and allowing the ancient wolf to approach them. But Liv,” he cupped my face, his touch warm and reassuring, “I promise you, nothing will harm them. This is a sacred ceremony, respected by all. The wolf is not feral; it's a guardian.”

I looked down, biting my lip. The very thought of placing Elliot and Aurora in a situation even remotely risky made my heart race. But I trusted Nathan, and I knew he wouldn’t put our children in harm's way.

“Okay. We’ll do it,” I whispered.

…

On the morning of the ceremony, I carefully dressed Elliot and Aurora in the ceremonial robes. Soft, white fabric, adorned with intricate gold embroidery. Symbols of protection, unity, and blessings.

The twins looked angelic, their soft coos filling the room with sweetness. Taking a moment, I whispered a quiet prayer, hoping that everything would go smoothly.

The path to the Elders was lined with tall, age-old trees. Their gnarled roots peeked through the ground, and their leaves rustled in the gentle breeze, whispering tales from times long past. As we approached, I noticed that several elders stood tall, their posture rigid and expressions inscrutable. The weight of tradition and the solemnity of the occasion was palpable.

With each step, I felt a mixture of reverence and nervous anticipation. The Elders were the keepers of the pack’s history, traditions, and rituals. Their approval and blessings were paramount for any ceremony, especially one as significant as this.

The twins, swaddled in their ceremonial robes, gazed around with innocent wonder. Every so often, Elliot would let out a tiny coo, drawing amused glances from those around. Aurora, ever the quiet observer, simply took in her surroundings, her bright eyes darting curiously.

As we approached the gathering of Elders, I couldn’t help but notice the subtle shifts in their expressions. While most offered kind smiles, a few observed the babies with discerning, almost suspicious eyes. Their lingering gazes made me uneasy, and I instinctively held the twins closer.

Elder Mingan, the oldest among them and revered for her wisdom, stepped forward. Her silver hair cascaded down her back, and her piercing blue eyes seemed to hold centuries of knowledge. She looked at the babies, then at us, her expression unreadable.

“It is uncommon,” she began, her voice deep and resonant, echoing the gravity of her words, “for babies who aren’t biological Alphas to be allowed to partake in this ceremony.”

I exchanged a glance with Nathan, feeling a sudden chill. I hadn’t anticipated this. Nathan’s grip on my hand tightened reassuringly, but I could sense his own apprehension.

Mingan continued, “You should consider yourselves fortunate, especially if the Ancient Wolf chooses to bless these children.”

My heart raced. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice. “Would something happen to our babies otherwise?”

The Elder’s eyes softened, perhaps sensing my distress. “No, child. It’s nothing like that. However, an Alpha child without the blessing cannot take the Alpha mantle in the future. It is the way of our people.”

Nathan cleared his throat, addressing Mingan. “Elder, we respect the traditions and the ways of our ancestors. We understand the significance of the blessing. But our children, whether they are blessed today or not, are valuable members of this pack.”

Mingan nodded, her gaze lingering on the twins. “Indeed. Every child is precious. But traditions exist for a reason. They ensure the stability and strength of our pack.”

I looked at Nathan, my eyes filled with uncertainty. I had known that rejoining the pack would come with its own set of traditions and customs, but I hadn’t anticipated the weight they would bear on our children’s futures.

“I just want what’s best for them,” I whispered to Nathan.

He leaned in, his voice gentle. “I know, Liv. But remember, whether they are blessed today or not, we will always be there for them. We’ll guide them, protect them, and love them. The title of Alpha isn’t the only path to significance.”

Mingan, having overheard our conversation, offered a small, reassuring smile. “Worry not. The Ancient Wolf has been known to be generous in its blessings. But remember, every blessing, every challenge, every experience shapes the future leader. Your children will find their path, as all our kin have.”

Grateful for her words, I nodded. Taking a deep breath, I tried to find solace in the knowledge that regardless of the outcome of the ceremony, Elliot and Aurora would be surrounded by love and guidance.

As the Elders began to prepare for the ceremony, whispering chants and laying out sacred artifacts, Nathan pulled me close, shielding our children from prying eyes.

“We are in this together,” he murmured. “No matter what.”

Nodding, I leaned into his embrace, drawing strength from his unwavering support. We watched as the elders continued their preparations, the weight of the upcoming ceremony pressing heavily upon us, but united in our hope and love for our children.

The clearing itself, which laid up ahead, was a thing of beauty. Bathed in dappled sunlight, the grass seemed greener, the flowers more vibrant. I could feel the ancient energy pulsating from the ground. It was a place where the veil between worlds seemed thinner, where the magic of old still held sway.

“Come,” Nathan murmured, holding his hand out for me and stepping toward the clearing. “It’s time.”

As we approached the center, my hands began to tremble. The weight of what we were about to do pressed down on me. Laying my babies down in the green grass, I felt a tear escape my eye.

Nathan sensed my anxiety and gently wrapped an arm around me. “It’s going to be okay, Liv,” he whispered. “I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to them.”

His words provided some solace, but the real test was about to begin. As we stepped back, the atmosphere became thick with anticipation. A silence descended, broken only by the soft chirping of birds and the distant rustle of leaves.