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Dominick walked behind us, Morgan and Jackson in front. Eugenia and Ben worked their way into the pilgrimage a little farther up the path, and she looked back, throwing me a smile and a wave. I waved back but couldn’t make my lips form a smile.
I was going to throw up.
I remembered my imaginary top-ten list of worst experiences ever. If I got into the ceremony circle and didn’t shift…well maybe the whole damned list would have to be revisited.
Sensing my unease, Lucas took my hand, and we walked that way for the rest of the journey. He’d been looking at me differently since our woodland sexcapades. An expression somewhere between reverence and worry. Who knew what was going on in his head? He hadn’t tried for a second round.
We arrived at the ceremony site, amongst the last to show up except for Callum. When Lucas and I entered the circle, the whole pack bowed their heads as one. Callum entered behind us, and they all removed their hoods and lowered to the ground, bowing before him.
“Let the ceremonial fire be lit,” he commanded, his huge voice filling the circle of trees like he were wearing a microphone.
A middle-aged pack member pulled one of the torches from the ground and threw it onto the fire pit. The flame caught instantly, roaring to life with hot ferocity, its crackling arms reaching to the sky, trying to consume all the oxygen. It was as if the fire wanted to burn the night itself.
Heat licked my face, and I blinked at the sudden brilliance of a secondary sun in our midst.
“We have a special treat tonight,” Callum announced. “Tonight we will bear witness to the union of two royals, a very rare event indeed. Our own Secret McQueen will wed her mate Lucas Rain, and we will celebrate their love when we make our change.”
There were so many wolves here, so much energy in one place. Between the barely contained animal wildness and the heat of the fire, I felt like I was being electrocuted. It was thrilling, but more than anything it was scaring the crap out of me.
Callum guided Lucas and me to the head of the circle, and before I had a chance to have any more second thoughts, the ceremony had begun.
“Lucas Rain, son of Jeremiah, King of the Eastern pack. You stand before us in good faith. Do you declare your intention is to marry our pack daughter, Secret McQueen?”
“It is.”
“You will be her mate, her protector, and your strength will be her strength?”
“It will.”
My heart throbbed inside my mouth when Callum turned his attention to me. “Secret McQueen, daughter of Mercy, Princess of the Southern pack. You stand before us in good faith. Do you declare your intention is to marry the Eastern king, Lucas Rain?”
No, my brain screamed.
“It is,” my mouth said, defiant.
“You will be his mate, his protector, and your strength will be his strength?”
No, no, no.
“It will.”
“The knife.” Callum held out his hand to no one in particular. Someone in the pack knew their role, because suddenly an old dagger was in his palm. “Your hands,” he instructed Lucas and me.
We held out our hands, and Callum dragged a cut through each of our palms. He bisected my long lifeline, and I felt the sudden urge to cry or scream and throw myself to the ground. I wanted to run far and fast and be gone from here.
Instead I stared stupidly at the blood pooling in the cup of my hand.
“Blood to blood.”
Lucas and I said it in unison, “Blood to blood.”
“Love forever.”
“Love forever,” we parroted.
Callum took hold of our hands and slapped our bloody palms together. “Now and always.”
Lucas said it, but my mouth just moved soundlessly.
