From the shadows beyond the ring, Elena Ortiz steps forward.
She’s out of place among the torchlight and bristling ranks of the pack, but she carries herself with quiet force—as if her presence itself is a challenge to centuries of custom. Dark hair winds loose around her shoulders, streaked with silver and moonlight, her face pale with tension. But her eyes—her eyes are steady.
“Mom?” Maya breathes.
The circle shifts again, this time with a ripple of murmurs. Heads swivel. Someone swears under their breath. Those who recognize Elena stare wide-eyed. Those who don’t still feel it—the weight of her.
Elena stops just at the edge of the circle but she doesn’t step inside.
“You did it,” she says, her voice raw and proud and scared all at once. “You found your wolf.”
Maya takes a step toward her—but falters. “You’re here?”
“I told myself I was keeping you safe. But safety isn’t the same as truth.”
A silence spreads again. No one moves.
Elena lifts her chin. “The girl who stood in this ring and shifted tonight… she is both her parents. And you’d all do well to remember who her father was.”
I see Alpha Sharpe at the edge of the torchlight, watching her, unreadable.
Then Elena’s gaze finds her daughter again. “I’m sorry it took me this long.”
Maya nods once—just once—then turns back toward me, wiping at the edge of her eye with the back of her hand.
Behind us, Alpha Sharpe steps forward again. The crowd shifts like wind-blown grass—some heads bowed, some turned. But they’re all watching us.
“Let the witnesses bear truth,” the Alpha says. “The challenge has been answered. The wolf has awakened. The Luna has risen.”
My breath catches.
So does Maya’s.
There’s no noise in the circle. Just stillness. Recognition.
My father’s voice slices through the hush.
“Bolton.”
I look at him. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Is this your mate?”
My wolf surges forward behind my ribs, pacing. Hungry. Sure.
“She is.” My voice doesn’t shake.
Maya’s eyes snap to mine. I feel her breath catch—but I don’t look away.
“And have you marked her?”
Everyone hears it. Everyone waits.
“No,” I say. “Not yet.”
My father raises an eyebrow. Barely. But it’s there.
“Then complete the bond,” he says simply. “The Goddess bears witness beneath this moon, and the pack stands ready.”
