Chapter 3 : The Ritual

Chapter 3

Selene woke up feeling hands on her body. Soft, nimble fingers traced over her arms, adjusted her position, and combed through her tangled hair. Her limbs felt heavy, her mind sluggish, as if she were wading through a thick fog.

Memories crashed into her all at once—her desperate escape, the cold night air against her skin, the brutal impact of hitting the ground when Killian caught her. And then... the Commander, Rayna.

The bastard had forced a bitter-tasting potion down her throat. She had thrashed and fought, but the effects were swift and merciless. Darkness had swallowed her whole, dragging her into a deep, unnatural slumber.

Her eyes flew open, and she shot upright, heart pounding.

A group of women surrounded her—maids dressed in flowing ivory gowns. They moved efficiently, their faces impassive, as if they were dressing a lifeless doll.

"What the hell is going on?" Selene snarled, jerking away from their hands.

None of them answered. One of them, a tall, dark-haired woman with a strict posture, stepped forward, holding out a delicate white gown.

"You must prepare," she said simply. "The mating ritual is tonight."

The words crashed over Selene like a tidal wave. Her breath hitched. No. No, no, no.

Her failed escape had cost her everything.

She was being forced into a bond she never wanted. A ritual that, if the legend was true, could very well kill her.

Rage surged up like a wildfire, burning away the fear clawing at her chest. Killian didn't care if she lived or died. He was going through with this like she was nothing more than a pawn in his game.

Fine.

If he was going to kill her, she would make damn sure she took him down with her.

She curled her fingers into fists, forcing her breathing to steady. Before he kills me, I'll slit his throat.

The maids continued their work despite Selene's glare, their hands firm but careful as they prepared her for the ritual.

She was stripped of her clothes and lowered into a warm bath filled with strange herbs. The air was thick with the scent of lavender mixed with something sharper—maybe wolfsbane—causing her skin to tingle.

Every instinct urged her to fight, to flee, to resist, but the potion's effects still weighed heavily on her. Her muscles felt sluggish, her thoughts clouded. They had drugged her thoroughly.

Cowards.

Once the bath was over, they wrapped her in an ivory gown that clung to her body, the fabric soft as a whisper against her skin. It was delicate, ceremonial—too pristine for the violence she had intended.

She would not go down without a fight.

A heavy silence enveloped the room as the maids completed their task. Then, as if on cue, the door creaked open. The tall, poised woman from the previous day—Selene recognized her instantly.

Rayna, the commander overseeing the warriors.

Rayna stood by the door, arms crossed, her sharp gaze scrutinizing Selene's every move. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm—too calm.

"How are you feeling?"

Selene let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Oh, you know. I woke up in a stranger's bed, dressed like some sacrificial offering, with no memory of how I got here." She met Rayna's gaze, her eyes blazing with fury. "So, I'd say I feel fantastic."

Rayna exhaled, her expression unreadable. "Selene—"

"Save it." Selene's voice sliced through the air like a knife. "I don't need your empty niceties."

A muscle in Rayna's jaw twitched, but she nodded once, as if she had anticipated this reaction.

"You." Selene lunged forward, quicker than the maids could respond. Her fingers gripped Rayna's collar, pushing her back against the door. "You drugged me."

Rayna didn't resist. She took a slow breath. "I did."

The maids gasped and hurried away, but Rayna remained unfazed. She simply held Selene's gaze, steady. "I did what was necessary."

Selene's grip tightened. "Necessary?" Her voice trembled with rage. "You fucking drugged me!"

Rayna didn't resist, nor did she attempt to push Selene away. "And I'm sorry for it."

Selene's breath came in quick, sharp gasps. "You think saying sorry will make this right?"

"No," Rayna conceded. "But you need to realize—this wasn't out of malice."

"I had no choice," she continued.

Selene gritted her teeth. "You really expect me to buy that?"

Rayna's face remained unchanged. "Believe what you want. But we need this ritual."

Selene's breath quickened again. "We?"

Rayna's jaw tightened. "The pack."

The weight of those words pressed heavily on Selene's chest.

"This isn't just about you, Selene," Rayna went on, her voice steady yet firm. "Killian's bond with you is the key to unlocking our pack's strength. The Scar Hound Pack is closing in on us, and they're stronger than ever. Without the ritual, we won't stand a chance against them."

Selene's stomach churned. "So you're just going to sacrifice me?" She let out a hollow laugh. "Literally?"

Rayna sighed. "No one wants you dead."

Selene scoffed. "Then maybe you should tell that to the legend that says my mate is destined to kill me."

Silence fell between them.

For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed Rayna's face.

Selene's heart raced.

"You knew, didn't you?" she accused, her voice sharp with realization. "You knew the truth about the curse."

Rayna hesitated before answering. She looked away for a brief moment, then finally spoke.

"You won't die tonight."

Selene's breath hitched.

"What?"

Rayna met her gaze directly. "The ritual won't kill you."

Selene's heart raced in her chest. "You're lying."

"I'm not," Rayna replied firmly. "Killian wouldn't allow that."

Selene let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Oh, of course. Because I should trust him, right?"

Rayna sighed. "Believe what you want. But this isn't just about you and Killian. The pack needs this."

Selene's hands shook as she gripped Rayna's collar. Every part of her screamed to fight, to lash out, to flee.

But the truth was already settling in.

The ritual was going to happen.

Whether she wanted it to or not.

Rayna exhaled slowly and gently pried Selene's fingers from her collar. "It's time," she said, her voice softer now, almost unreadable.

Selene didn't resist as Rayna turned toward the door, but her body felt cold, as if a part of her had gone numb. She followed in silence, her mind racing.

They thought they had won.

They thought they could force her into this.

But Selene wasn't a pawn. She wasn't a savior.

She was a survivor.

And survivors found a way out.

The corridor leading outside was dimly lit, the stone walls towering above, suffocating. The moment they stepped through the grand archway, her senses were overwhelmed by the scent of fresh roses and burning incense. The path before her was lined with white petals, scattered across the ground like a trail leading to her execution.

Torches blazed on either side, their flames dancing in the night breeze.

And beyond them, the pack was waiting.

Hundreds of wolves stood in the courtyard, their bodies tense with anticipation. The moment they spotted her, a deafening roar of approval filled the air.

"Hail the Luna!"

"Our Alpha's mate!"

"She will bring us strength!"

Selene barely registered their words.

She walked forward, her steps deliberate, her face an unreadable mask. But inside, she was screaming.

These people weren't celebrating her.

They were celebrating what she would provide.

A tool. A necessity. A means to an end.

Her hands were clenched at her sides as she scanned the crowd, ignoring the countless eyes on her, the murmurs of approval, the reverence in their voices. She only cared about one person. Where was he? Her gaze swept through the sea of bodies, searching. And then— Then came Alpha Killian. Selene's heart slammed against her ribs. He stood at the end of the pathway, just beneath the ceremonial altar, dressed in a dark, intricately embroidered tunic that did nothing to soften the harshness of his presence. His expression was unreadable, cold. But his eyes— His silver eyes pierced through the crowd as they roamed over her. Selene's gaze locked onto him, and the moment it did, something inside her shifted. A jolt of energy surged through her veins, raw and primal. Mate. Nyx, her wolf, howled in joy, a sound that echoed in the depths of her soul. She clawed at Selene's restraint, desperate to break free, to run to him, to claim him. Selene gritted her teeth, her body trembling as she fought against the sudden, overwhelming pull. It was instinct—burning, undeniable instinct—urging her to surrender, to submit to the bond, to let Nyx take control and shift right there under the moonlight. No. She wasn't some lovesick fool. She wasn't one of the weak-willed she-wolves who melted under the weight of a mate bond. She hated him. This was a trick. A cruel, twisted part of nature that she would never give in to. So she swallowed the fire that coursed through her, locking Nyx in a cage of iron will. She focused instead on the man before her—the man who had ruined her life, who had stolen her freedom. Killian's expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in his gaze. Recognition. A knowing that settled deep within his dark eyes as if he could sense her struggle. Her fists clenched at her sides. I will never belong to you. And yet, her traitorous heart pounded harder with every step she took toward him. Selene's heart pounded against her ribs. Not from fear. From rage.

If tonight was meant to be her last, she would ensure he regretted ever crossing her path.

The ceremony unfolded in a blur. Selene hardly registered the chants, the vows, or the ceremonial blade pressed against her palm as their blood mingled before the pack. The weight of it all—the stares directed at her, the thunderous roars of celebration—felt distant, muted, as if she were observing from outside her own body. The only thing anchoring her was the storm raging within. The urge to flee. The urge to fight.

Before she could fully grasp what had just occurred, she was being pulled away. Strong hands guided her through torch-lit corridors, past warriors and elders, past faces filled with reverence as they bowed in her direction.

Then, in an instant, she found herself in a different room—one unlike anything she had ever encountered. It was breathtaking. Spacious and illuminated by soft golden candlelight. White petals blanketed the floors and the bed, and the air itself seemed to hum with the fragrance of roses and something darker—something ancient.

Her stomach twisted. No... No, this isn't—

A door swung open, and before she could react, a group of maids entered.

Selene instinctively stepped back as they approached, their hands reaching for her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

None of them replied. They moved in perfect harmony, untying the ceremonial robe from her shoulders and letting the heavy fabric fall to the ground.

Panic surged in her chest as the cold air brushed against her skin.

"Stop—"

She pushed against their hands, twisting away, but they were unyielding, their touch firm yet reverent, as if she were something sacred.

"It is time, Luna," one of them finally said. "The ritual must be consummated."

The words struck her like a cold dagger of realization.

Consummate.

The most crucial part of the mating ritual.

Selene froze. Her body stiffened as the truth crashed over her. They continued their work, brushing her hair and weaving delicate petals around her head like a crown.

Their voices whispered soft blessings, words of devotion—of duty. She barely registered them. She stood there, exposed, still trying to grasp what was unfolding when the door swung open again. As Killian entered the room, the atmosphere shifted. The maids, who had been attending to her just moments before, bowed their heads and hurried away in silent compliance, leaving them alone. Selene remained frozen, her bare skin tingling under the intensity of his gaze. His eyes roamed over her—dark, piercing, unreadable. But then something flickered, something almost uncertain, and he tore his gaze away, his jaw tightening. With stiff movements, he stepped forward, as if forcing himself to proceed. But Selene wasn't waiting. Blinded by rage and fear, she lunged. Her fingers wrapped around the heavy candlestick on the bedside before she swung it with all her strength. Killian barely had time to react. He caught her wrist at the last moment, halting the weapon inches from his head. "Are you out of your mind?" he growled, his grip tightening. Selene snarled, pulling against his hold, her body vibrating with desperation. He was going to kill her. He was going to complete this ritual and take her life, just as the legend foretold. "I won't go down without a fight!" she spat, twisting violently in his grasp. Killian exhaled sharply, pushing the candlestick away. "For heaven's sake, Selene—calm down." She laughed, wild and bitter. "Calm down? You brought me here to die, and you expect me to calm down?" His eyes darkened. "You're not going to die." She froze, her chest heaving. "What?" Killian's jaw clenched, his hands twitching at his sides. "The ritual won't kill you." Selene searched his face, waiting for the deception, but all she found was frustration, controlled and simmering beneath the surface. "Then why the hell did you force this on me?" she snapped. "You of all people should know what happens when the cursed Alpha mates! I've heard the stories. The moment you complete this, I—" "You don't know anything about the curse," he interrupted, his voice sharp.

Selene's heart raced. "Then tell me."

A muscle in his jaw twitched. His hands clenched into fists before he finally let out a breath, shaking his head. "The curse doesn't activate during the ritual," he said, his voice now lower and rougher. "It only takes effect when the mates... fall in love."

Selene's breath hitched.

She examined him, noting the harsh lines of his face and the chill in his gaze.

"That's why," he continued, his voice hard as steel, "you won't die. Because I will never love you."