Hours seemed to stretch into an eternity before the ceremony finally commenced. The pack Alpha took the stage, his voice a low hum as he recounted the history and importance of the ritual – a narrative so predictable I fought the urge to sleep. Then, the doors creaked open, and a procession of women began to fill the hall. Though my position at the back made observation difficult, a wave of disappointment was already washing over me. No one seemed to capture my attention, no spark ignited my interest.
Historical documents described a powerful, almost magnetic pull towards one's destined mate, a connection so profound your wolf would instantly identify their scent from afar. It was meant to be an irresistible force. Yet, as I scanned the room, all I felt was an unnerving emptiness.
I let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back, the weight of another futile day pressing down. Nothing for me here, just the familiar sting of disappointment. My hand automatically reached for my phone. After scrolling for what felt like a good half-hour, my phone pinged. Matts text flashed across the screen: "Might want to look up Alpha, gonna miss out on the excitement." As if on cue, a hush descended on the hall, punctuated by a few gasps from the gallery.
I straightened instinctively, my gaze snapping forward. Just in time to see a girl, likely attending her first ceremony, struggling to tame her appearance. Her half-up/half-down hairstyle had devolved into a chaotic knot of stray strands, and her green dress, now hopelessly wrinkled, resisted her attempts to smooth it. But what truly captured my attention, more than her dishevelment, was the smell. Faint, almost imperceptible, but undeniably present.
It was the scent of fresh-baked cookies, of newly mowed grass, of the boundless ocean – an indescribable, delicious aroma. A powerful urge to rise swept over me, but I forced myself to remain seated, gripping the arms of my chair. A soft crack echoed, yet my eyes remained fixed on her.
She finally straightened and I saw the Alpha frown at her, but she looked away and looked up into the gallery. I followed her gaze and saw a older woman with black hair looking down at her and nod. Her mother perhaps? They looked very similar.
The girl turned back and it seemed the excitement had worn out and everyone start mummering again and the other girls were moving to make their choice, but I didn't care. I kept my eyes focused on her. She looked around and I saw her eyes land on someone in the front row. I sat up a bit to get a good look and noticed it was the very first seat in the aisle, where the Alphas family typically got placed. His seat was still empty. Waiting for her perhaps?
It wasn't uncommon, but typically the family already has someone in mind for their son, so if that person isn't old enough, then they leave the seat empty until the lady is.
It was easy to miss to the untrained eyes, but I saw the man straighten up a bit, clearly interested as well, but I nearly broke as she turned and started walking to him, keeping eye contact with him.
I had to calm myself down. Even if she chose him, later at the ball after the ceremony I could introduce myself as the Alpha Crown Prince and let her know I was interested. She would no doubt leave this lowly pack Alpha for a Prince right?
I slowed my breathing. At least now I know who she is, I thought to myself and watched as she inched closer and closer, then turned abruptly and started heading further down the aisle turning away from him. A small smile played on her lips and my breath caught. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever witnessed.
As she moved closer, it wasn't just my heart that pounded, but my entire being seemed to hum with an unfamiliar resonance. This… this was something entirely new, a visceral certainty that whispered, no, demanded that she was essential. The thought, sharp and urgent, seized me: I needed her. The world narrowed to this singular, breathtaking truth – she would be mine, whatever the price, whatever the circumstance.
Then she paused, a breath away, her profile finally turning, but away from my row. So close. The impulse was overwhelming, a raw instinct to simply stand, to reach out, to claim her. A strange tension built within me, my jaw tightening, a low rumble beginning in my chest. When another man, from a different aisle, dared to offer her a smile, a primal surge, almost a growl, clawed at my throat, a fierce possessiveness I couldn't quite contain.
*Mine!* The thought, raw and primal, ripped through me, a sound I barely recognized as my own. My head snapped around, a guttural growl rumbling in my chest, searching for the source of that possessive declaration.
But then, she moved. A hesitant step towards another, and a desperate instinct flared, hotter than any flame. I lunged, not in body, but in will, a silent scream echoing in the sudden, charged air between us. She stopped, her body freezing mid-motion, and then, as if drawn by an invisible string, she turned. Her eyes, wide and startled, locked with me.
*Mate!* The voice, deeper, rougher, vibrated not just in my ears, but through the very marrow of my bones. This time, I knew. It was me. Or rather, the ancient, untamed thing that had slumbered within me, finally awake, roaring its recognition.
Her eyes, the color of a summer forest after rain, held me captive. A delicate curve to her jaw, a fullness to her cheeks, and a shape that spoke of both strength and soft vulnerability. The world outside our shared gaze dissolved. The noise, the people, the very passage of time ceased to exist. It was just us, caught in a cosmic breath. And I knew, with a certainty that bypassed all thought, that she felt it too. The earth-shattering, soul-deep tug, the absolute, undeniable truth that pulsed between us, a magnetic force binding us as one. This was not just proximity; this was fate.
"Excuse me," a gruff voice cut through the air. We both flinched, turning to the man nearest the aisle. His brow was furrowed, a clear mask of annoyance. "Can you sit down already?" he grumbled, arms now crossed in a definitive gesture.
"Oh! S-Sorry," she said, a little breathlessly, and then, with a quick glance back at him, she moved to stand directly in front of me. For a moment, she just stood there, her gaze tentative, before finally asking, her voice a fragile thread, "Can I sit here? With you?" The question hung in the air, a delicate offering.
I managed a quick nod, my own composure feeling surprisingly fragile. She settled beside me with a shy swiftness, our thighs touching. The contact was so immediate, so unexpectedly intimate, that my breath hitched, and a primal instinct screamed at me to simply gather her into my arms.