Chapter 2 TWO

BAILEY

I've witnessed this ceremony every year for as long as I can remember. It's become ingrained in my memory, every word and every gesture. But this time, it feels different. This year, I find myself among the women waiting anxiously to be assigned a mate. Standing in line, facing the men of the pack, I can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. The weight of the moment hangs in the air, as our alpha, Brandon, begins to speak the sacred words of the ritual.

Beside me, I feel Molly's hand searching for mine. I interlace our fingers, providing her with a sense of comfort. She's nervous, but I'm not. I'm filled with anticipation, knowing that tonight will mark a significant turning point in my life. The moonlight bathes us in its ethereal glow, and my heart flutters in my chest. I dismiss the sensation as mere jitters, focusing on the event unfolding before me.

Brandon strides confidently to the center of our clearing, commanding everyone's attention. The silence is deafening, a testament to the respect we hold for our alpha. He begins his address, welcoming everyone to this auspicious mating night. His gaze falls upon the five of us women, standing shoulder to shoulder, before shifting to the men across from us. Slowly, he turns, taking in the entire pack that surrounds us.

"With each passing year," Brandon starts, his voice carrying a tinge of solemnity, "our pack ages." A hushed silence fills the atmosphere, as we all grasp the gravity of his words. We understand the significance of this night, not only for us as individuals, but for the pack as a whole. It is a reminder of our resilience, our ability to survive the trials and tribulations that have befallen us since the Night Weavers unleashed their malevolence.

"In the aftermath of the Lunar Reversal," Brandon continues, his voice steady and commanding, "our pack witnessed a new generation, a generation we considered fortunate. We called ourselves survivors, for we had weathered the storms and overcome the perils that claimed the lives of so many others." I lift my gaze to the moon, its radiant presence serving as a constant reminder of the forces at play in our lives.

I've witnessed this ceremony every year for as long as I can remember. It's become ingrained in my memory, every word and every gesture. But this time, it feels different.

This year, I find myself among the women waiting anxiously to be assigned a mate. Standing in line, facing the men of the pack, I can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. The weight of the moment hangs in the air, as our alpha, Brandon, begins to speak the sacred words of the ritual.

Beside me, I feel Molly's hand searching for mine. I interlace our fingers, providing her with a sense of comfort. She's nervous, but I'm not. I'm filled with anticipation, knowing that tonight will mark a significant turning point in my life. The moonlight bathes us in its ethereal glow, and my heart flutters in my chest. I dismiss the sensation as mere jitters, focusing on the event unfolding before me.

Brandon strides confidently to the center of our clearing, commanding everyone's attention. The silence is deafening, a testament to the respect we hold for our alpha. He begins his address, welcoming everyone to this auspicious mating night. His gaze falls upon the five of us women, standing shoulder to shoulder, before shifting to the men across from us. Slowly, he turns, taking in the entire pack that surrounds us.

"With each passing year," Brandon starts, his voice carrying a tinge of solemnity, "our pack ages." A hushed silence fills the atmosphere, as we all grasp the gravity of his words. We understand the significance of this night, not only for us as individuals, but for the pack as a whole. It is a reminder of our resilience, our ability to survive the trials and tribulations that have befallen us since the Night Weavers unleashed their malevolence.

"In the aftermath of the Lunar Reversal," Brandon continues, his voice steady and commanding, "our pack witnessed a new generation, a generation we considered fortunate. We called ourselves survivors, for we had weathered the storms and overcome the perils that claimed the lives of so many others."

I lift my gaze to the moon, its radiant presence serving as a constant reminder of the forces at play in our lives.

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"It took us several years to understand what we now know and accept," Brandon said. "For reasons we don't comprehend, the Inverse Moon has affected our ability to bear children. In the twenty years since the reversal took place, only six new children have been born to us."

This time I'm not the only one looking away from my alpha. Everyone's eyes find the children. When I was younger, we came to the ceremony with family or sought out our friends. But now because our few children are so precious, they're minded constantly by Brandon's mate, Melinda. We can't risk that a parent would decide to try to leave the pack with a child.

"The Iron Claw are a proud pack," Brandon says. "We survived the Lunar Reversal, when so many were killed. And we will survive whatever blight has caused us to struggle to produce our next generation. We'll survive by creating the best and strongest mate bonds possible, giving each of you the best chance to produce children who can survive in this new world."

I survey the men standing across from me. As usual, my eyes go right to Vermon. Tall, fair-skinned, blond hair that he keeps cropped close. Even though I know that tonight is about my alpha mate, he's the only one I can't wait to be with. After this ceremony, I'm allowed to mate with anyone I want, as long as I go to my alpha mate's bed when I am most fertile. But no matter what, I am determined to mate with Vermon.

"When I call your name," Brandon says, addressing the women now, "step forward to receive your mate." My heart skips again.

My heart races, pounding in my chest like a wild stallion galloping freely. It feels as if my blood surges through my veins at an accelerated pace, flowing like a rushing river eager to reach its destination. Is it possible for anxiety to have such a physical impact? I can't deny the strange sensations coursing through me, even though I'm not particularly nervous. I wish I could understand why my body is reacting in this peculiar manner. Perhaps it's a normal occurrence on the night of the mating ceremony. I should have taken the opportunity to ask Molly if she's experiencing anything similar.

"Molly, daughter of Verne," Brandon announces, breaking my train of thought. Molly gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and stepping forward. It's a familiar scene, one I've witnessed countless times before. But this time, it's different. It's my best friend, the person I've shared countless secrets and dreams with, taking this momentous step. Brandon takes Molly's hand in his, his voice resonating with warmth and sincerity.

"Molly, our pack honors your compassionate heart and gentle nature," he declares. "Your mate will be the man whose kindness matches your own-Harley, son of Peter." A radiant smile lights up Molly's face as Harley steps forward, his presence exuding warmth and kindness. I share in her joy, knowing deep down that Harley is a perfect match for my tender-hearted friend. He's a true sweetheart, the type of person who will cherish and protect her with all his might. Yet, as happy as I am for them, I can't help but acknowledge that Harley is not the one I would have chosen for myself.

Brandon leads Molly and Harley through their vows, their voices overflowing with love and commitment. As they exchange heartfelt words, sealing their bond with a tender kiss, they join the ranks of the mated pairs. The atmosphere around us shifts subtly, the expressions on some of the men's faces turning sour. The realization dawns upon them that one woman has already found her mate, leaving them still awaiting their turn.

Vermon doesn't look upset, though. His expression is one of extreme confidence. He should be confident. I can't imagine he won't be chosen.

One by one, the women around me are called forward and assigned their mates. Finally, I'm the only one left in the line. There are six men still standing across from me. Some of them are looking at me like their predicament is my fault. I raise my eyebrows at them. As if I can help the fact that there are more men than women in this pack!

"Bailey, daughter of Elizabeth," Brandon says. "Come forward." I'm the only one to be called by my mother's name instead of my father's, of course. I'm the only one here who never knew my father. He wasn't from our pack; my mother told me when I asked, and refused to say another word about it. I learned pretty quickly to stop asking questions.

I step forward, and Brandon takes my hand.

"Bailey," Brandon said, "our pack honors your warrior spirit and the fighting skills you've honed throughout your life. One day, you'll no doubt be one of the best female hunters our pack has ever known. Your mate will be the man who can hunt by your side, our greatest warrior."

I know then. I know I'm going to get my wish. He knows it too. I can tell because he starts to move forward a moment before Brandon says his name.

"Vermon, son of Thomas."

A surge of triumph courses through my veins, though I make sure not to let it show on my face, maintaining a composed smile. Brandon, our pack leader, takes Vermon's hand and seamlessly places it in mine. The moment our skin touches, a wave of heat engulfs me, igniting a primal desire within. There's an unmistakable hunger in Vermon's gaze, mirroring the intensity of my own longing. I can't help but believe that he desired this outcome as fervently as I did.

"Vermon," Brandon's voice resounds with authority. "Do you willingly accept Bailey as your alpha mate?"

"Hell yeah, I do," Vermon's response reverberates through the air, each syllable feeling like a seductive caress. I never anticipated that the moment of our alpha mating would hold such power over me. It's as if even the sound of his voice becomes a form of foreplay.

"And Bailey," Brandon's gaze shifts to me. "Do you willingly accept Vermon as your alpha mate?"

"Yes," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. I find myself locked in a mesmerizing gaze with Vermon, his piercing blue eyes radiating a heat that matches the intensity of his touch. In that moment, I realize that I have never yearned for anything as strongly as I do for him.

"As the alpha of the Iron Claw, I bind you," Brandon solemnly declares. "You have chosen each other freely, and now I command you to fulfill your duty to our pack by procreating, starting tonight and continuing throughout your lives."

The weight of Brandon's words settles around me, intensifying the hunger that courses through my body. There is an undeniable magnetic pull drawing me towards Vermon, a gravitational force that transcends mere desire. It is no longer solely about what I want; it is a shared responsibility, a commitment to our pack's future.

The hunger for him consumes me completely. I never thought it was possible for my desire to intensify, but here I am, yearning for him with a burning intensity. While it is not a requirement to seal our union with a kiss at this stage of the ceremony, it seems that we will be no exception. If only I could unleash my primal instincts and ravish him right here and now. However, I must adhere to the formalities of the ceremony. There are still tasks to complete before I can revel in the pleasure that awaits me.

Nevertheless, he pulls me closer, his grip firm and possessive, and we engage in a passionate kiss. The forcefulness of his lips against mine ignites a fire within, spreading throughout my entire being. His teeth graze my flesh with a sharpness that matches his eagerness, his tongue explores my mouth with a scorching and uninhibited fervor. I lose myself in the overwhelming intensity of the moment, feeling the heat building up inside me, drawing me closer to the edge of desire.

With a mischievous grin, he releases his hold on me, breaking the kiss. "Let's embark on our hunt!" he exclaims, his voice filled with excitement and anticipation.