Chapter 6
1065 Words
Rebecca’s POV
"An ascension?" Lysander's mother echoed, her face etched with horror disguised as shock. "So soon into the wedding?" She asked.
There was no hesitation from Lysander as took a sip of his bourbon. "She will become Luna of Silverpine on the next ospecous date."
My jaw could have dropped from how stunned I was. So quickly. My heart was doing somersaults in my chest. I should have been satisfied but uneasiness slipped into my veins at the news. He did not even know me.
"Lysander," I kept my voice level and every eye in the room fell on me. "We can wait." I did not want to outright dismiss his plans or question his decision. I knew this role well, I was his wife. "Acclimating would be nice first."
Lysander’s gaze shifted to me, his expression unreadable at first. Then, he gave a small nod, his tone calm but resolute. “Fair enough. Acclimating is important.”
Relief coursed through me, but before I could say more, he added, “But you’ve already proven you know what it means to stand beside an Alpha. You’ve handled leadership before, Rebecca, and I have no doubt you’ll rise to meet Silverpine’s expectations.”
His words were steady, encouraging, and something in the way he looked at me made my heart skip. For a moment, I forgot the room full of watching eyes. Mila stirred inside me, her usual guarded demeanor replaced by a rare warmth.
I nodded slowly, my voice softer now. “Thank you for your faith in me.”
“Faith isn’t needed,” Lysander replied, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “You’re more capable than you think. You’ll see it too, in time.”
My chest tightened at the unexpected kindness. His confidence in me was unwavering, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
Lysander’s mother tilted her head, her smile measured but her tone light. “Lysander, darling, don’t you think this might be a bit... rushed? Rebecca is still adjusting, and the responsibilities of Luna are no small task. Perhaps it’s better to allow her more time.”
Several officials nodded in agreement, their murmurs low but supportive.
“Your mother makes a good point,” one said cautiously. “The transition should be seamless. Rushing might lead to unnecessary challenges.”
Lysander leaned back in his chair, his expression unchanging. He swirled the bourbon in his glass, his gaze fixed on them but devoid of emotion. “I hear what you’re saying,” he replied smoothly, his tone polite but firm. “But I’ve already made my decision. Rebecca will ascend as Luna on the chosen date.”
His calm yet authoritative dismissal silenced the room. The officials exchanged glances, unsure whether to press further, and his mother’s smile tightened, though she didn’t push again.
I kept my expression neutral, but inside, my thoughts churned. Why was he so determined to do this? Lysander wasn’t the type to act on whims. A man like him made calculated moves, every decision an investment. And investments came with returns.
What would he gain from elevating me so quickly? I couldn’t ignore the gnawing question: what more was at play here?
Lysander set his glass down and looked at the officials. “What’s the next auspicious date?”
One of them cleared his throat, flipping through a small planner. “The next date is two weeks from now, during the waxing moon. It’s a time of growth and strength.”
“Perfect,” Lysander said with a nod. “Two weeks it is.”
I opened my mouth to object, but his gaze flickered to me, sharp yet reassuring. “Rebecca, this is your moment as much as mine. Let’s make it something you’ll remember fondly.”
I bit my lip but nodded slowly. “All right.”
Lysander turned to me, his tone softening. “Now, about the ceremony—what colors do you like?”
The question caught me off guard. I blinked. “Colors?”
“Yes, colors,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Unless you’d prefer I choose?”
I hesitated, unsure if this was a test or genuine interest. “I... like deep green and gold.”
“Green and gold,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Classic. Elegant. It’ll suit you.”
His mother raised a brow but said nothing, her disapproval hovering in the background.
“And flowers?” Lysander continued, ignoring the others. “Roses? Lilies? Something exotic?”
I tilted my head, mildly amused. “Roses are fine.”
“Red, white, or something unexpected?” he pressed.
“White,” I said firmly, trying to hide my growing smile.
He nodded, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “White roses and gold accents it is. You’ve got good taste.”
The subtle warmth in his tone made my chest flutter. Despite the tension in the room, Lysander seemed intent on making this about me, about us. It felt strange, almost surreal, but also... nice.
As he went on asking about the music and food preferences, his wit and attentiveness began to draw me in. He made a dry remark about pack traditions that had me stifling a laugh, and when one of the officials tried to chime in, he waved them off with a casual, “She’s the Luna, not you.”
By the end of it, I felt more at ease, even managing to hold his gaze without smiling like a bloody fool. Lysander leaned back, satisfied. “That settles it. Two weeks from now, Silverpine will have a Luna.”
The officials murmured their agreement, though I could sense the lingering reservation in their eyes. His mother didn’t say a word, but the sharpness in her gaze was unmistakable.
As we stood to leave, Lysander leaned closer, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “You’ll be magnificent.”
For a moment, I wanted to believe him. Almost. My eyes narrowed slightly at him.
"Did you know?" Rina seemingly spawned out of nowhere, her sickly sweet voice tempting me to roll my eyes.
Lysander casted her with a questioning look. "Know what?"
Her eyes fell on me, so did everyone else's. "Did you know that our soon-to-be Luna is a hybrid? She is part witch."
The silence that followed was deafening.
- Writer
