Chapter 5

Accepting my fate.

Lenora

The morning was quiet, deceptively so. I moved through the corridors on bare feet, careful not to disturb the servants who passed by with polite nods that barely acknowledged my existence. The soft brush of my fingertips against the walls was the only reminder that I had a presence here at all.

I grabbed the gown for the ceremony, folded meticulously on a chaise, smelling faintly of lavender and cedarwood from the pack’s perfumed clothes, and hurried to my room. It was beautiful, a pristine white, embroidered with the symbols of the moon goddess, and meant to represent honor, purity, and selflessness. It was ironic to me, seeing as they saw me as a tool now, a vessel, a sacrifice, yet they had lavished time and effort into a dress that I would wear as if my life had meaning in their eyes.

I closed the door softly behind me, dropped the dress meticulously on my bed. I drew the ritual oils from their small container. The scent of herbs and minerals, carefully prepared to cleanse the body and soul, wafted over me, strong and almost intoxicating. I held the vial in both hands, feeling its weight, and reminded myself to savor this moment, the last touch of care I would allow myself before the ritual consumed me entirely.

My fingers brushed the surface of the oil and I tipped it slowly, letting it warm against my palms before rubbing it onto my arms, shoulders, and neck. The warmth spread, tingling, and the faint energy that lingered in me flickered briefly.

I had just moved to my legs when a sharp noise made me freeze, heart hammering violently. The door creaked open. A shadow fell across the floor, and I knew without looking that it was Davis. My stomach lurched violently, and I froze completely, hoping he would turn away before seeing the faint shimmer of the oils on my skin.