201 The Ceremony and the Ring
Lucian
The handover ceremony was smooth, almost surreal. Martha showed up glowing-smiling, gracious, dressed to impress. She claimed she’d been sick to explain the weight loss, but I knew better.
It was a lie, but a thoughtful one. She played her part perfectly, kind to everyone, charming even. I respected that.
My father had said she’d make the day about herself, but she didn’t. She stayed beside him the entire time, calm, collected, pretending everything was fine.
She was either medicated or masterfully composed. Maybe both. Either way, she fooled everyone.
Lacy didn’t come. She said she was packing, and I believed her. Still, I couldn’t shake the question: Why did Martha think I’d throw her out of the mansion? I let it go. Some things aren’t worth chasing.
People approached me constantly-some familiar, some strangers-each more curious than the last. All they wanted to
talk about was Daniel Northwood.
Whispers turned into bold questions. Why had we locked him up? When would he be released? I had no easy answers. Not because I was hiding anything, but because I honestly didn’t know who I could trust.
Chase wasn’t just operating within Winston Corp. He had allies closer than we liked-inside the pack, maybe even inside that very room. Our investigation had barely scratched the surface. Mistwood kept coming up, again and again.
Chase wanted us to follow that trail. He was leaving clues like breadcrumbs in the dark. But I wasn’t ready to follow-not
yet.
After the greetings and pleasantries, Mara and I finally took our seats at the high table. I noticed the looks almost
instantly.
Hungry, lingering stares from men who had no shame. My wife was radiant-wearing a red velvet dress with a plunging neckline and a slit that left little to the imagination. She was magnetic.
My pride didn’t let jealousy in. They looked, but when I caught their eyes, they always looked away.
I didn’t blame them. She was the kind of woman you couldn’t help but notice-and she was mine. That was enough.
We sat beside my father and Martha. He held her hand the whole time. It was a show, sure, but there was history in the way their fingers locked-memories too old and too tender to fake entirely.
I hated that they couldn’t just let go or, better yet, forgive each other. Whatever else Martha was hiding, I was sure she didn’t know where her ex had disappeared to. Still, I couldn’t stop second-guessing her.
She wore no jewelry, just the family ring-said she’d return it to my father after the ceremony. No one else noticed. She was too beautiful for anyone to care.
Watching her take care of my father the way she always had, I felt something tighten in my chest. Regret, maybe. Wistfulness. I just wished their story had ended differently.
The crowd eventually thinned, laughter and applause fading into the night. Just like that, it was official: I was now Alpha of Mooncrest, and Mara was my Luna.
We made our way to my father’s office-no, my office now-for the final rite of passage. The family quill. No one used it, but tradition demanded its ceremony. The room buzzed with warmth, pride, and the weight of legacy.
Martha stepped forward, her expression calm, maybe even relieved. She removed the Nighthorn family ring from her finger
1/2
and turned to Mara.
“You now carry the responsibility of Luna and lady of this house,” she said softly, her voice carrying an old reverence. “I trust you’ll bless this home with joy, love, and peace. Every Luna of the Nighthorn line has worn this ring. Today, I pass it on to you, Luna Mara.”
She hugged Mara tightly before letting go. Mara gave a polite smile, but I saw the stiffness in her shoulders. She wasn’t comfortable with the moment, but she respected its weight.
“Let me see it,” my father said, reaching for the ring.
Mara passed it to him, and he held it up to the light, tilting it, inspecting it as if he could see through time. I couldn’t believe it. Did he really think Martha would have sold the original and replaced it with a fake? That was low-even for him.
But after a moment, he lowered the ring, his face clouded with guilt. Whatever he saw in the light, it shut him up. He
handed it back to Mara without a word.
“Satisfied?” she asked, the corners of her lips lifting just slightly.
He gave a stiff nod.
Martha smoothed her dress, gathered herself, and turned to leave. “This is where I take my leave and say goodnight,” she said. She hugged Tiffany and Darian, then looked at me, her smile soft. “Congratulations again, Alpha.”
Then she walked out.
Silence lingered in her wake.
“She’s just acting up,” my father muttered, brushing it off, but I wasn’t buying it. Neither was Darian.
“Lacy packed her things, Father,” Darian said quietly. “They’re really leaving.”
The way he said it-it cracked something open. He wasn’t okay with it. He’d been holding back, but now the hurt was spilling through his voice.
“They’re not going anywhere,” my father said, his voice suddenly cold. “I’ve instructed security not to let either of them leave the grounds. Not until she tells me where Alaric is.”
Darian’s head shook slowly. His eyes were wet.
“She doesn’t know,” he said. “Mother’s many things, but not a liar about this. If she had Alaric, she would’ve used it against you by now. She would’ve told you. She really doesn’t know. And this-this is too far, Father.”
The silence after that wasn’t peaceful. It was heavy. Charged. Something between us all had shifted.
